His favourite tunes to grind ’em.
“Balm of Gilead” loud they sing,
As if they’d been hob-nobbin’;
And then the midnight echoes ring
To the wail of “Poor Cock Robin.”
“There now it’s “Over the Garden Wall”—
Shut up, you noisy crew, you!
But list, the liquid rise and fall
Of “Glory Hallelujah!”
Will no one from a window take