(Yankee Doodle.)
There is many a weeping mother longing, morning, night, and noon,
For her boy to come back whistling just the fragment of a tune;
But he’s yonder entertaining all the angels unaware
With a melody so human they’re bound to keep him there;
For all that heavenly music nothing sounds to them so sweet
As that cheery, boyish whistle and the patter of his feet,—
For he whistles all in tune:
(Nearer, My God, to Thee.)
—Copyright by Forbes & Co., Chicago, and used by kind permission of author and publisher.