An Original Collection of Songs sung at the Theatres Royal, Public Concerts &c. &c. By W. T. Moncrieff |
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ALL WHEN THE LEAVES WERE GREEN. |
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 | An Original Collection of Songs |  |
152
ALL WHEN THE LEAVES WERE GREEN.
I was a brisk and sprightly lad—a very merry boy—
My mother's hope, my father's pride—nought could my rest destroy—
The neighbours all admired—I was the pride of every scene,
At wake, or fair, or harvest home, all when the leaves were green!
My mother's hope, my father's pride—nought could my rest destroy—
The neighbours all admired—I was the pride of every scene,
At wake, or fair, or harvest home, all when the leaves were green!
Then Health was mine, and Wealth was mine, and all my heart desir'd—
The pretty girls all flock'd around—with love my soul was fired.
I chose out one from all the rest, she was my bosom's queen—
I kiss'd and woo'd her, day and night, all when the leaves were green!
The pretty girls all flock'd around—with love my soul was fired.
I chose out one from all the rest, she was my bosom's queen—
I kiss'd and woo'd her, day and night, all when the leaves were green!
I kept my horse, I ran my dogs, was at all in the ring,
I hunted, betted, sported, gam'd—but time was on the wing
I took my glass, I kiss'd my lass, sought joy from morn till e'en,
Nor ever dreamt I should grow old, all when the leaves were green!
I hunted, betted, sported, gam'd—but time was on the wing
I took my glass, I kiss'd my lass, sought joy from morn till e'en,
Nor ever dreamt I should grow old, all when the leaves were green!
Now here I am in prison laid, exposed to want and scorn—
My friends have fled, my Love is dead, and I am left forlorn.
I pass each day in grief away, nought variegates the scene,
Except to think upon the time all when the leaves were green!
My friends have fled, my Love is dead, and I am left forlorn.
I pass each day in grief away, nought variegates the scene,
Except to think upon the time all when the leaves were green!
153
All you, like me, when young and gay, and friends and fortune smile,
Don't think it will for ever last, nor let the world beguile—
Beware of want, look out for woe—ingratitude bites keen—
Remember Winter time will come, although the leaves be green!
Don't think it will for ever last, nor let the world beguile—
Beware of want, look out for woe—ingratitude bites keen—
Remember Winter time will come, although the leaves be green!
| An Original Collection of Songs | |