LITMIR.BIZ

      Have you heard the strange news just come down, Gaffer Green,

      That they’re talking of now far and near?

      How young Robin Ruff has his wish sure enough,

      And he’s now got a thousand a year, Gaffer Green!

      He’s now got a thousand a year!

      Young Rob’s a good heart, and I’m glad Master Cross,

      Oh, it will not spoil him, never fear!

      In the face of the poor he will not shut his door,

      Though he has got a thousand a year, Master Cross!

      Though he has got a thousand a year!

      But ’twould be but the way of the world. Gaffer Green,

      If he did not see now quite so clear;

      They say yellow mists rise, and soon dim a man’s eyes,

      When he once gets a thousand a year, Gaffer Green!

      When he once gets a thousand a year!

      Robin’s eyes were not dim t’other day, Master Cross,

      When his poor old friend Harry was here;

      Robin soon cured his pain, and soon made sunshine again,

      With a touch of his thousand a year, Master Cross!

      With a touch of his thousand a year!

      Ah! but Rob must take care, must take care, Gaffer Green,

      Or he’ll spend all his new-gotten gear;

      How much better ’twould be – he may want it, you see —

      If he saved all his thousand a year, Gaffer Green!

      If he saved all his thousand a year!

      If he spends the last pound that he’s got, Master Cross,

      He’ll be richer than some folks, I fear;

      For a heart such as Rob’s, though ’neath tatters it throbs,

      Is worth ten times a thousand a year, Master Cross!

      Is worth ten times a thousand a year!

      I’m sitting to-day in the old play-ground,

      Where you and I have sat so oft together,

      I’m thinking of the joys when you and I were boys

      In the merry days now gone, John, forever;

      ’Twas here we sat in the merry olden time,

      And we dream’d of the wild world before us,

      And our visions and hopes of the coming time

      Were as bright as the sun that shone o’er us.

      I’m sitting to-day in the old play-ground,

      Where you and I have sat so oft together,

      I’m thinking of the joys when you and I were boys

      In those merry days now gone, John, forever.

      O’er the threshold, John, we pass’d forlorn,

      To wander we knew not where,

      The heaven we thought so bright was o’ershadow’d by night,

      And the pathway lay dark and drear.

      But I am sitting to-day in the old play-ground,

      Where you and I have sat so oft together,

      And these memories wild have made me a child,

      As in the merry days now gone, John, forever.

      Oh, who has not seen Kitty Clyde?

      She lives at the foot of the hill,

      In a sly little nook by the babbling brook,

      That carries her father’s old mill.

      Oh, who does not love Kitty Clyde?

      That sunny eyed, rosy cheek’d lass,

      With a sweet dimpled chin that looks roguish as sin,

      With always a smile as you pass.

      Sweet Kitty, dear Kitty, my own sweet Kitty Clyde,

      In a sly little nook by the babbling brook,

      Lives my own sweet Kitty Clyde.

      With a basket to put in her fish,

      Every morn with a line and a hook,

      This sweet little lass, through the tall heavy grass,

      Steals along by the clear running brook.

      She throws her line into the stream,

      And trips it along the brook side,

      Oh, how I do wish that I was a fish.

      To be caught by sweet Kitty Clyde.

      How I wish that I was a Bee,

      I’d not gather honey from flowers,

      But would steal a dear sip from Kitty’s sweet lip,

      And make my own hive in her bowers.

      Or, if I was some little bird,

      I would not build nests in the air,

      But keep close by the side of sweet Kitty Clyde,

      And sleep in her soft silken hair,

      Oh! Willie, is it you, dear, safe, safe at home?

      They did not tell me true, dear, they said you would not come,

      I heard you at the gate, and it made my heart rejoice,

      For I knew that welcome footstep, and that dear familiar voice,

      Making music on my ear in the lonely midnight gloom,

      Oh! Willie, we have miss’d you; welcome, welcome home.

      We’ve long’d to see you nightly, but this night of all;

      The fire was blazing brightly, and lights were in the hall,

      The little ones were up ’till ’twas ten o’clock and past,

      Then their eyes began to twinkle and they have gone to sleep at last;

      But they listen’d for your voice till they thought you’d never come,

      Oh! Willie, we have miss’d you; welcome, welcome home.

      The days were sad without you, the nights long and drear,

      My dreams have been about you, oh, welcome, Willie dear,

      Last night I wept and watch’d, by the moonlight’s cheerless ray,

      Till I thought I heard your footsteps, then I wiped my tears away,

      But my heart grew sad again, when I found you had not come;

      Oh! Willie, we have missed you; welcome, welcome home.

      Yes, Mary, I have come, love, across the dark, blue sea,

      To

Скачать книгу