Oxcoose me if I shed some tears,Und wipe my nose avay;Und if a lump vos in my troat,It comes up dere to shtay.My sadness I shall now unfoldt;Und if dot tale of woeDon'd do some Dutchmans any good,Den I don't pelief I know.You see I fall myself in love;Und effery night I goesAcross to Brooklyn by dot pridge,All dressed in Sunday clothes.A vidder vomans vos der brize,Her husband he vos dead;Und all alone in this colt vorldt,Dot vidder vos, she said.Her heart for love vos on der pine,Und dot I like to see;Und all der time I hoped dot heartVos on der pine for me.I keeps a butcher shop, you know,Und in a stocking stout,I put avay my gold and bills,Und no one gets him oudt.If in der night some bank cashierGoes skipping off mit cash,I shleep so sound as nefer vos,Vhile rich folks go to shmash.I court dot vidder sixteen months,Dot vidder she courts me;Und vhen I says, "Vill you be mine?"She says, "You bet I'll be!"Ve vos engaged—oh, blessed fact!I squeeze dot dimpled hand;Her head upon my shoulder lays,Shust like a bag of sand."Before der vedding day vos set,"She vispers in mine ear,"I like to say I haf to useSome cash, my Jacob, dear."I owns dis house and two big farms,Und ponds und railroad shtock;Und up in Yonkers I bossessA grand big peesness block."Der times vos dull, my butcher boy,Der market vos no good;Und if I sell"—I squeezed her handtTo show I understood.Next day—oxcoose my briny tears—Dot shtocking took a shrink;I counted out twelf hundred inDer cleanest kind o' chink.Und later, by two days or more,Dot vidder shlopes avay;Und leaves a note behindt for me,In vhich dot vidder say,—"Dear Shake:—Der rose vas redt,Der violet blue—You see I've left,Und you're left, too!"
Oxcoose me if I shed some tears,Und wipe my nose avay;Und if a lump vos in my troat,It comes up dere to shtay.My sadness I shall now unfoldt;Und if dot tale of woeDon'd do some Dutchmans any good,Den I don't pelief I know.You see I fall myself in love;Und effery night I goesAcross to Brooklyn by dot pridge,All dressed in Sunday clothes.A vidder vomans vos der brize,Her husband he vos dead;Und all alone in this colt vorldt,Dot vidder vos, she said.Her heart for love vos on der pine,Und dot I like to see;Und all der time I hoped dot heartVos on der pine for me.I keeps a butcher shop, you know,Und in a stocking stout,I put avay my gold and bills,Und no one gets him oudt.If in der night some bank cashierGoes skipping off mit cash,I shleep so sound as nefer vos,Vhile rich folks go to shmash.I court dot vidder sixteen months,Dot vidder she courts me;Und vhen I says, "Vill you be mine?"She says, "You bet I'll be!"Ve vos engaged—oh, blessed fact!I squeeze dot dimpled hand;Her head upon my shoulder lays,Shust like a bag of sand."Before der vedding day vos set,"She vispers in mine ear,"I like to say I haf to useSome cash, my Jacob, dear."I owns dis house and two big farms,Und ponds und railroad shtock;Und up in Yonkers I bossessA grand big peesness block."Der times vos dull, my butcher boy,Der market vos no good;Und if I sell"—I squeezed her handtTo show I understood.Next day—oxcoose my briny tears—Dot shtocking took a shrink;I counted out twelf hundred inDer cleanest kind o' chink.Und later, by two days or more,Dot vidder shlopes avay;Und leaves a note behindt for me,In vhich dot vidder say,—"Dear Shake:—Der rose vas redt,Der violet blue—You see I've left,Und you're left, too!"
Oxcoose me if I shed some tears,Und wipe my nose avay;Und if a lump vos in my troat,It comes up dere to shtay.
My sadness I shall now unfoldt;Und if dot tale of woeDon'd do some Dutchmans any good,Den I don't pelief I know.
You see I fall myself in love;Und effery night I goesAcross to Brooklyn by dot pridge,All dressed in Sunday clothes.
A vidder vomans vos der brize,Her husband he vos dead;Und all alone in this colt vorldt,Dot vidder vos, she said.
Her heart for love vos on der pine,Und dot I like to see;Und all der time I hoped dot heartVos on der pine for me.
I keeps a butcher shop, you know,Und in a stocking stout,I put avay my gold and bills,Und no one gets him oudt.
If in der night some bank cashierGoes skipping off mit cash,I shleep so sound as nefer vos,Vhile rich folks go to shmash.
I court dot vidder sixteen months,Dot vidder she courts me;Und vhen I says, "Vill you be mine?"She says, "You bet I'll be!"
Ve vos engaged—oh, blessed fact!I squeeze dot dimpled hand;Her head upon my shoulder lays,Shust like a bag of sand.
"Before der vedding day vos set,"She vispers in mine ear,"I like to say I haf to useSome cash, my Jacob, dear.
"I owns dis house and two big farms,Und ponds und railroad shtock;Und up in Yonkers I bossessA grand big peesness block.
"Der times vos dull, my butcher boy,Der market vos no good;Und if I sell"—I squeezed her handtTo show I understood.
Next day—oxcoose my briny tears—Dot shtocking took a shrink;I counted out twelf hundred inDer cleanest kind o' chink.
Und later, by two days or more,Dot vidder shlopes avay;Und leaves a note behindt for me,In vhich dot vidder say,—
"Dear Shake:—
Der rose vas redt,Der violet blue—You see I've left,Und you're left, too!"