Historic Oak on La Grange's square,
The tryst of Fayette's fighting men,
Will be remembered by all who met
Beneath the shade that shielded them.

Dawson's men assembled here
To relieve brace Caldwell's plight;
Here ever after men have met
Before they went to fight.

Historic Oak, when you were young,
Your limbs reached for the stars;
Your Spanish tresses must have lured
Brave Texans to her Wars.

Many who bade a fond farewell
And clasped there loved ones in your shade
Never returned to meet again,
But were buried with a stranger's spade.

Your once proud branches have been cut;
Your leaves are sparse and sear;
Your gnarled trunk hides concrete poured
Within a heart that men hold dear.

How you must wish that you could die,
That men would war no more;
Yet men decree that you must live
Until they have no war in store.

If there were no need for useless war,
Then you could die and be at rest;
Your shade would not be needed then,
And mankind would be blessed.