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!