MY SONG.
I LEARNT a simple bit of rhyme—
An easy air to sing;—
I thought the ditty at the time
A rather funny thing.
Of course, as I was green and young,
My judgment might be wrong;
Still, folks applauded when I sung
My only comic song.
Twas all about a Cavalier
Who finds a pair of gloves,
Which implicate, it's very clear,
The lady whom he loves.
That knight incontinently sends
That lady to Hong-Kong—
And thereupon abruptly ends
My only comic song.
'Twas most successful in its way,
For I could understand
Enough of harmony to play
Upon a Collard's grand.
My voice (though never very sweet,
And never very strong)
Possess'd sufficient force to treat
My only comic song.
One evening, anxious to impress
The lady of my choice,
I took some pains about my dress
And more about my voice.
But lo! a miserable man
(My rival all along)
Stept in before me, and began
My only comic song.