FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   12   13   14   15   16   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   >>  
ur._ Not yet. What have you got, GEORGE, in your Budget? _Master George._ Not very much, I fear! _Master Arthur._ Ah, that's vexatious! It might have cheered us up a bit. _Master George_ (_indignantly_). Good gracious! You're always down on me, with no good reasons. You know _I_'m not the ruler of the Seasons. Now if I'd been in _your_ place--but no matter! _Master Robert._ By Jingo, how the raindrops rush and clatter! Ah, Primrose-gathering is not half so jolly As once it used to be. _Master Arthur._ Ah! my dear SOLLY, The springs are now so awfully wet and cold, The "cry" don't seem so fetching as of old. [_Pipes up._ _Recitative_. "_Who will buy my pretty, pretty Pri-im-ro-o-ses!_ _All fresh gathered from the va-a-a-ll-ey?_" _Master George._ The wet and cold have got into your throat, A quaver and a crack on every note! _Master Robert._ Don't aggravate each other, boys; 'tis wrong, But while it rains _I_'ll tootle out a song:-- (_Sings._) The days we went a-Primrosing! AIR--"_The days we went a-Gipsying!_" The days are gone, the happy days When _we_ were in our Spring; When all the Primrose loved to praise, And join its gathering. Oh! we could sing like anything, We felt the conqueror's glow, In the days when we went Primrosing, A long time ago. _Chorus._--In the days, &c. Then April's flowery return Was "Peace-with-Honour's" goal. And the bright brimstone-bunch would burn In every button-hole. Our Dames were gaily on the wing, With blossoms in full blow, In the days when we went Primrosing, A long time ago. _Chorus._--In the days, &c. But now Progressive storms prevail Election blizzards chill; The Primroses seem sparse and pale In valley and on hill. Yon cloud looks black as raven's wing! Things did not menace so. In the days when we went Primrosing A long time ago! _Chorus._--In the days, &c. _Both._ Oh, brayvo, BOBBY! _Master Robert._ Thanks. Yet my song's burden Is dismal as the croakings of _Dame Durden_. Our holiday is spoilt by driving showers. I fear we shall have no great show of flowers; But--anyhow my boys we're under cover; And let us hope that storm-cloud will pass over
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   12   13   14   15   16   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   >>  



Top keywords:

Master

 

Primrosing

 

Robert

 

Chorus

 
George
 

Primrose

 

gathering

 

pretty

 

Arthur

 

button


bright
 

brimstone

 
Progressive
 
blossoms
 

return

 

conqueror

 
Budget
 

flowery

 
storms
 
GEORGE

Honour

 

blizzards

 

driving

 

showers

 
spoilt
 
holiday
 

dismal

 

croakings

 

Durden

 

flowers


burden

 
valley
 

sparse

 

Election

 

Primroses

 
brayvo
 

Thanks

 

menace

 
Things
 

prevail


reasons

 

springs

 

fetching

 
Recitative
 

clatter

 

raindrops

 

Seasons

 

cheered

 

tootle

 

Gipsying