You’re comforted, you’re comforted,
An’ rested thru an’ thru;
Why, that old rocker’s heaven to me,
But ’taint the same to you.
I ain’t a-goin’ to tell you why,
There ain’t no fairies here,
I h’an’t hearn Annie Laurie sung
For more nor fifty year.
There’s folks what thinks they know “Ben Bolt,”
An’ “Comin’ Thru’ the Rye,”