And to see his look you would almost think
That he was tipping a devilish wink
To his old, familiar friend.
Oh, he is a jolly good fellow, in truth,
With a wit that is ever new,
And a heart like which, in this world of ours,
There are only, I fear, too few.
And he doesn’t complain when I come in late
Or keep him awake o’ nights,
So I have respect for his comfort, too,