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From Ancient Greek mythology

    The Hamadryads hail:
Mysterious, gentle, woodland nymphs,

      Their presence did prevail

Over woodland places, forest floors,

      Especially old oak trees.
'Love and protect our woodlands,'

      Were their oft repeated pleas.

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*Hamadryads were quite mortal,

      As were trees for which they cared.
Their lives were tightly coupled

      To these trees whose lives they shared.

The King of Thessaly once thought

     He’d like to build a hall
And he little cared at all about

      The trees that soon would fall.

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His men looked round and chanced upon

     A sacred grove of trees.
'Ah, just what we’ve been looking for. 

      We’ll fell a few of these.'

'Cut them down,' the King told them,

      With very little thought,
But as the axe cut through the oak,

     He heard a voice, distraught:

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'Please stop,' the voice cried feebly

     As they cut the bleeding bark.
'You’re striking at this mighty oak,

      And also at my heart.'                                                 

 

                                                                     

Continued . . . . . . . . . .    ​​​