 | Along the trail |  |
THE LOVE OF A BOY—TO-DAY
Heigh-ho! my thoughts are far away;
For wine or books I have no care;
I like to think upon the way
She has of looking very fair.
Oh, work is nought, and play is nought,
And all the livelong day is nought,
There 's nothing much I care to learn
But what her lovely lips have taught.
For wine or books I have no care;
I like to think upon the way
She has of looking very fair.
Oh, work is nought, and play is nought,
And all the livelong day is nought,
There 's nothing much I care to learn
But what her lovely lips have taught.
The campus cannot tempt me out,
The classics cannot keep me in;
The only place I care about
Is where perchance she may have been.
Oh, work is nought, and play is nought,
And all the livelong day is nought;
There 's nothing much I care to find
Except the way she would be sought.
The classics cannot keep me in;
The only place I care about
Is where perchance she may have been.
Oh, work is nought, and play is nought,
And all the livelong day is nought;
There 's nothing much I care to find
Except the way she would be sought.
35
The train across the valley screams,
And like a hawk sweeps out of sight;
It bears me to her in my dreams
By day and night, by day and night.
Oh, work is nought, and play is nought,
And all the livelong day is nought;
There 's nothing much I care to be,
If I be only in her thought.
And like a hawk sweeps out of sight;
It bears me to her in my dreams
By day and night, by day and night.
Oh, work is nought, and play is nought,
And all the livelong day is nought;
There 's nothing much I care to be,
If I be only in her thought.
1897
| Along the trail | |