To steady his palsied old lip and control
The old-fashioned harmonies stirring his soul—
There was nothing in Buckleby quite so for-
lorn
As the oomp-tooty-oomp of that old bass horn.
To the parties and sociables, quiltings and sings
They invited old Obadi’ Frye;
He’d give ’em doldrums of old-fashioned
things
With occasional bass obligato for strings