Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Harp of Renfrewshire

470
Perhaps there's something better now — the folks think so,
at least,
And stronger meat they all uphold a fitter childish feast.
So be it ! Still, I'll keep my creed, and say there may be
worse
To warm the heart of Childhood than those fables of the
In the shiny summer Saturdays, when we were boys at
school,
Noon found us nestling in the woods, or angling in the pool ;
And then the evening twilights, with their shadows length-
ening down,
Assembled us for sport in lanes of the dear native town.
No strict preceptor's frown to fear with the to-morrow's sun.
For tasks neglected over night, and 'Bland' and 'Mair'
undone ;
To-morrow is the Sabbath, so, our satchels on the peg,
We'll have it out to-night till ten at ' Corby,' or the ' Gegg '!
No niceness in our company, no modish pride was there ;
Each boy his neighbour's equal, if he choose the game to
share ;
The piecer from the miU hard by, the drawboy from the
loom.
And the laddie from the ropery — all welcomely had room !
Cloth- jacket chummed with Corduroy, and loved him dearly
too ;
And whatsoe'er the one proposed the other one would do ;
So clear the shouts rang up the street, and fast and far the
run.
While quaint weavers in red night-caps, looked intently at
the fun !
No stiff policeman meddled us, he rather liked the sport,
As out and in, and up and down, we threaded every court;
If, unawares, we overset a candy-woman's stall.
For reasons of her own she said but little of the fall ;