As I lie with my head on your lap,
I do not care one Commonwealth rap
What may hap!
Not — one — blooming — young — Commonwealth — rap!
Let other hands delve ’mid the garbage and grime,
And let other lips puff till they blaze—
Oh! ’tis weary work marching when fools beat the time—
But ’tis easy to drift and to laze
All our nights and our jubilant days,
Sweet Eileen!