Or, the Sad End of a little Girl's Romance.
Sitting alone in the fire-light's flare,
This is the house that Bell built.
This is the girl with the golden hair,
That lived in the house that Bell built.
This is the garden fresh and fair,
Where played the girl with the golden hair,
That lived in the house that Bell built.
These are the peaches sweet and rare,
That grew in the garden fresh and fair,
Where played the girl with the golden hair,
That lived in the house that Bell built.
