Gloucester County Democrat., 1908-07-23

An oak, by sun and showers nursed,
Soon raised its infant head.
The boy, an.Indian chief became,
And many battles fought;
And 'mong the maids of royal blood,
His dusky bride he sought.
A mighty warrior wooed and won
The girl. to woman grown.
That he was worthy of her hand,
Was by his proves shown
And all these years the oak-tree grew
And fiourishtd hour by hour;
And strength and life and vigor drew
With every spring-time shower.
And, when their heads were white as snow,
The OAK had grown tree
That far and wide its branches spread
A sight sublime. TO see.
The white man came. The aged chief,
Beneath its cooling shade,
In council met savage band,
In warrior guise arrayed.
Go. warriors, go and slay the foe
Who robs us of our land;
And from his wife and children, hold
Not your avenging hand.
Go, burn his wigwan, waste his felds
Let not a trace remain
OF him who Der the waters came
To steal our fair domain -
But, when they fought. the white man won
And drove them far away
tTow'rd where their happy bunting ground
Are found near setting day.
The settler swung his ak among
The monarchs OF the wood:
Tall giants fell; a home be built
OF logs rough h-hewn and rude.
But, though his tender, toiling wife
Had come OF gentle birth,
And though with hard and wearing toll
He wrung their bread from earth;
No stately palace walls enclosed
Content more true and full:
For love ruled o. 'er their humble lives,
And made them beautiful.
Five little prattling babies came
To cheer their lonely hours,
These opened sweetness in their hearts.
Like sunshine, birds and flowers.
Full soon in games they skipped and sang
And sported in wild glee;
Free as the breeze as round them blew,
As woodland songsters free.
To youth and maidenhood they grew.
The old oaks singing boughs
Heard whispered there in earnest trust,
Loves earliest, sweetest vows.
When wounded freedom lifted up
For help pleading voice.
No second call was waited for
By those brave, stalwart boys.
But quick they flew to aid the cause
Which biesses you and me.
Gods blessing on the name OF those
Who fought to make US free,
The eldest one his life gave up
At bloody Brandywine,
No truer soldier ever stepped
His foot in battle line.
And one at Princeton bore the flag
That led to victory;
Wherever thiekest ragged the fight,
That boy was sure to be.
The other fought upon the sea:
And, when his ship went down;
While fash of guns and crash of nlasts
And death were ali around;
His voice was heard above the din,
Don't yield, boys, fight and Diet
Each man was nerved to glorious deeds,
For that was Freedoms cry
The last true ball was aimed by him,
1t sped; and, circling slow,
The foes tall mast went crashing down;
Ii proved a deadly blow.
Down, down he sank, and found his rest
Upon coral bed;
The sea. weed wrapped its arms around
To shroud the precious dead.
But one came home to tell the tale,
And he was wounded sore;
Yet TO his dying day. he loved
The noble scar he bore.
With JOY his sisters welcomed him
Beneath the old oak tree,
In silence, God they thanked; then sang
The Anthem of the Free
But tears of sorrow tricxied down
With tears of fullest joy;
For two were not; and sad they wept
The death OF each dear boy.
Their parents lie in moulding dust;
They too have met decay;
Their children, too, have lived their lives,
And they have passed away;
Yet still the old oak lifts its boughs
To shade the homestead der,
Time only makes it grander than
It stood in days OF yore.
In winter, while the wild winds blow,
It walls song of grief
For those who've lived and passed away.
Like its own autumn Leaf
The lovely babes; the maiders fair;
The youths with hearts of gold;
The gray-haired men and women, too,
Whose hearts had ne'er grown old.
It sings, n summer, songs of life;
It cools the toilers brow;
And still. upon the bright green sward,
1t hears the lovers vow.
And, from a stout and trusty branch,
Hangs. full of Iyy. a swing;
How fresh and wild we drink the air.
Like birds upon the wing.
Two hundred years have rolled away
Since fret its life began,
And still it stands monument
To teach to every man.
How great the might Of him who bids
The oaks from acorns grow
That works OF majesty and power
In growth are ever slow.
Long may it shade, in ragged strength.
The tender, grass-clothed sod!
Long may its boughs when breezes blow,
Sing anthems unto God.