The Fine Old English Gentleman.I’ll sing you a good old song, made by a good old pate,Of a fine old English gentleman, who had an old estate;And who kept up his old mansion at a bountiful old rate,With a good old porter to relieve the old poor at the gate.Like a fine old English gentleman, all of the olden time.His hall, so old, was hung around with pikes, and guns, and bows,And swords, and good old bucklers, which had stood against old foes,And ’twas here “his worship†sat in state, in doublet and trunk hose,And quaff’d his cup of good old sack to warm his good old nose.Like a fine old, &c.When winter old, brought frost and cold, he open’d house to all,And though threescore and ten his years, he featly led the ball,Nor was the houseless wanderer e’er driven from his hall,For while he feasted all the great he ne’er forgot the small.Like a fine old, &c.But time, though sweet, is strong in flight, and years roll’d swiftly by,And autumn’s falling leaf proclaim’d, the old man—he must die!He laid him down right tranquilly, gave up life’s latest sigh,And mournful friends stood round his couch, and tears bedim’d each eye.For the fine old, &c.
The Fine Old English Gentleman.I’ll sing you a good old song, made by a good old pate,Of a fine old English gentleman, who had an old estate;And who kept up his old mansion at a bountiful old rate,With a good old porter to relieve the old poor at the gate.Like a fine old English gentleman, all of the olden time.His hall, so old, was hung around with pikes, and guns, and bows,And swords, and good old bucklers, which had stood against old foes,And ’twas here “his worship†sat in state, in doublet and trunk hose,And quaff’d his cup of good old sack to warm his good old nose.Like a fine old, &c.When winter old, brought frost and cold, he open’d house to all,And though threescore and ten his years, he featly led the ball,Nor was the houseless wanderer e’er driven from his hall,For while he feasted all the great he ne’er forgot the small.Like a fine old, &c.But time, though sweet, is strong in flight, and years roll’d swiftly by,And autumn’s falling leaf proclaim’d, the old man—he must die!He laid him down right tranquilly, gave up life’s latest sigh,And mournful friends stood round his couch, and tears bedim’d each eye.For the fine old, &c.
The Fine Old English Gentleman.I’ll sing you a good old song, made by a good old pate,Of a fine old English gentleman, who had an old estate;And who kept up his old mansion at a bountiful old rate,With a good old porter to relieve the old poor at the gate.Like a fine old English gentleman, all of the olden time.His hall, so old, was hung around with pikes, and guns, and bows,And swords, and good old bucklers, which had stood against old foes,And ’twas here “his worship†sat in state, in doublet and trunk hose,And quaff’d his cup of good old sack to warm his good old nose.Like a fine old, &c.When winter old, brought frost and cold, he open’d house to all,And though threescore and ten his years, he featly led the ball,Nor was the houseless wanderer e’er driven from his hall,For while he feasted all the great he ne’er forgot the small.Like a fine old, &c.But time, though sweet, is strong in flight, and years roll’d swiftly by,And autumn’s falling leaf proclaim’d, the old man—he must die!He laid him down right tranquilly, gave up life’s latest sigh,And mournful friends stood round his couch, and tears bedim’d each eye.For the fine old, &c.
I’ll sing you a good old song, made by a good old pate,Of a fine old English gentleman, who had an old estate;And who kept up his old mansion at a bountiful old rate,With a good old porter to relieve the old poor at the gate.Like a fine old English gentleman, all of the olden time.
I’ll sing you a good old song, made by a good old pate,
Of a fine old English gentleman, who had an old estate;
And who kept up his old mansion at a bountiful old rate,
With a good old porter to relieve the old poor at the gate.
Like a fine old English gentleman, all of the olden time.
His hall, so old, was hung around with pikes, and guns, and bows,And swords, and good old bucklers, which had stood against old foes,And ’twas here “his worship†sat in state, in doublet and trunk hose,And quaff’d his cup of good old sack to warm his good old nose.Like a fine old, &c.
His hall, so old, was hung around with pikes, and guns, and bows,
And swords, and good old bucklers, which had stood against old foes,
And ’twas here “his worship†sat in state, in doublet and trunk hose,
And quaff’d his cup of good old sack to warm his good old nose.
Like a fine old, &c.
When winter old, brought frost and cold, he open’d house to all,And though threescore and ten his years, he featly led the ball,Nor was the houseless wanderer e’er driven from his hall,For while he feasted all the great he ne’er forgot the small.Like a fine old, &c.
When winter old, brought frost and cold, he open’d house to all,
And though threescore and ten his years, he featly led the ball,
Nor was the houseless wanderer e’er driven from his hall,
For while he feasted all the great he ne’er forgot the small.
Like a fine old, &c.
But time, though sweet, is strong in flight, and years roll’d swiftly by,And autumn’s falling leaf proclaim’d, the old man—he must die!He laid him down right tranquilly, gave up life’s latest sigh,And mournful friends stood round his couch, and tears bedim’d each eye.For the fine old, &c.
But time, though sweet, is strong in flight, and years roll’d swiftly by,
And autumn’s falling leaf proclaim’d, the old man—he must die!
He laid him down right tranquilly, gave up life’s latest sigh,
And mournful friends stood round his couch, and tears bedim’d each eye.
For the fine old, &c.