See where the spread-ing beech has made
Be-neath its boughs a plea-sant shade
To screen them from the sun;
There George, and Anne, and Ma-ry play,
Or read up-on each sun-ny day,
When all their tasks are done.
George has pulled out his knife, you see,
And on the smooth-barked beech-en tree
Has some-thing found to do;
He's carv-ing deep, and plain, and well
The let-ters, one by one, which spell
His name and An-nie's too.
His sis-ter An-nie, stand-ing by,
Is watch-ing with a cu-ri-ous eye,
And won-der-ing at his skill.
To men and wo-men when they grow,
They'll come and find the beech tree show
Those names quite plain-ly still.