Songs and ballads | ||
75
'TWAS JUST BEFORE THE HAY WAS MOWN.
'Twas just before the hay was mown,
The season had been wet and cold;
When my good dame began to groan,
And speak of days and years of old:
Ye were a young man then,—and gay,—
And raven black your handsome hair;
Ah! Time steals many a grace away,
And leaves us many a grief to bear.
The season had been wet and cold;
When my good dame began to groan,
And speak of days and years of old:
Ye were a young man then,—and gay,—
And raven black your handsome hair;
Ah! Time steals many a grace away,
And leaves us many a grief to bear.
Tush! tush! said I, we've had our time,
And if 't were here again 't would go;
The youngest cannot keep their prime,
The darkest head some gray must show.
We've been together forty years,
And though it seem but like a day,
We've much less cause, dear dame, for tears,
Than many who have trod life's way.
And if 't were here again 't would go;
The youngest cannot keep their prime,
The darkest head some gray must show.
We've been together forty years,
And though it seem but like a day,
We've much less cause, dear dame, for tears,
Than many who have trod life's way.
Goodman, said she, ye're always right,
And 't is a pride to hear your tongue;
And though your fine old head be white,
'T is dear to me as if 't were young.
So give your hand—'t was never shown
But in affection unto me;
And, I shall be beneath the stone—
And lifeless—when I love not thee.
And 't is a pride to hear your tongue;
And though your fine old head be white,
'T is dear to me as if 't were young.
So give your hand—'t was never shown
But in affection unto me;
And, I shall be beneath the stone—
And lifeless—when I love not thee.
Songs and ballads | ||