And there's nothing like an old tune to make the heart beat high.
"That was well sung, my Alice," the farmer proudly said,
When the last strain was finished and the last word had fled;
"That is as true as Gospel; and since you've sung so well,
I'll give you a bit of a story you've never heard me tell.
"When the cry o' the axes first through these parts was heard,
I was young and happy, and chipper as a bird;
Fast as a flock o' pigeons the days appeared to fly,
With no one 'round for a six mile except your mother an' I.
Now we are rich, an' no one except the Lord to thank;