Next morning like a lark he ’rose,
And merrily tripp’d along
Towards the mine, and as he goes,
Hums o’er his old lov’d song.
* * * * *
Three days pass’d by: Joe doubted (what?)
If all was strictly true;
And thought t’himself—hath “John” forgot
Joe James of, of Westlooe? * * *
Another day pass’d o’er his head;