My Old Tunes
My old tunes are rather broken,
And they come from far away,
Bringing just a little token
Of a long forgotten day;When the children came to listen,
T’oth‑er side the garden fence,
And my heart leapt out of prison,
At the gift—of seven pence!Just beyond the haystack’s shadow,
Long a‑go that leafy June,
How they danced about the meadow
At the ris‑in’ of the moon!While from out a railway carriage,
Standing ready and alight,
Stepped their guests as to a marriage
Asked to dine—and stay the night!Sweep and Laugher danced to‑geth‑er,
And a man who had a lamp
Capered lightly as a feather
With à lazy looking tramp;When a voice disturbed the Lancers:
“Children, come, it’s time for bed”
“Railway carriages, Sprites and Dancers
Flew up—to the stars instead!Now I am a Con‑stel‑la‑tion,
Free from ev‑’ry earthly care,
Playing nightly at my station
For the Big and Little Bear.But my tunes are still en‑tranc‑ing
As that night in leafy June,
When I caught the children dancing
With the Sprites beneath the moon!Still the children come to hear me
In the lane or dingy street;
Still the heavy pavement near me
Flutters to their happy feet;For my tunes are ne’er forgotten,
And they bring the scent of musk;
Grown up folk may call ’em rotten,
But I’m looked—for when it’s dusk!