The Book of Ballads Edited by Bon Gaultier [i.e. W. E. Aytoun and Theodore Martin]. A New Edition, with Several New Ballads. Illustrated by Alfred Crowquill, Richard Doyle and John Leech |
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Night and Morning.
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 | The Book of Ballads |  |
74
Night and Morning.
Not by Sir E. Bulwer Lytton.
“Thy coffee, Tom, 's untasted,
And thy egg is very cold;
Thy cheeks are wan and wasted,
Not rosy as of old.
My boy, what has come o'er ye,
You surely are not well!
Try some of that ham before ye,
And then, Tom, ring the bell!”
And thy egg is very cold;
Thy cheeks are wan and wasted,
Not rosy as of old.
My boy, what has come o'er ye,
You surely are not well!
Try some of that ham before ye,
And then, Tom, ring the bell!”
“I cannot eat, my mother,
My tongue is parched and bound,
And my head, somehow or other,
Is swimming round and round.
In my eyes there is a fulness,
And my pulse is beating quick;
On my brain is a weight of dulness;
Oh, mother, I am sick!”
My tongue is parched and bound,
And my head, somehow or other,
Is swimming round and round.
In my eyes there is a fulness,
And my pulse is beating quick;
On my brain is a weight of dulness;
Oh, mother, I am sick!”
75
“These long, long nights of watching
Are killing you outright;
The evening dews are catching,
And you're out every night.
Why does that horrid grumbler,
Old Inkpen, work you so?”
Tom
Are killing you outright;
The evening dews are catching,
And you're out every night.
Why does that horrid grumbler,
Old Inkpen, work you so?”
(lene susurrans)
“My head! Oh, that tenth tumbler!
'Twas that which wrought my woe!”
| The Book of Ballads | |