As I went a-walking on _Lavender Hill_,
O, I met a Darling in frock and frill;
And she looked at me shyly, with eyes of blue,
'Are you going a-walking? Then take me too!'
So we strolled to the field where the cowslips grow,
And we played--and we played, for an hour or so;
Then we climbed to the top of the old park wall,
And the Darling she threaded a cowslip ball.
Then we played again, till I said--'My Dear,
This pain in my side, it has grown severe;
I ought to have mentioned I'm past three-score,
And I fear that I scarcely can play any more!'
But the Darling she answered,-'O no! O no!
You must play--you must play.--I sha'n't let you go!'
--And I woke with a start and a sigh of despair,
And I found myself safe in my Grandfather's-chair!
More verses by Henry Austin Dobson
- A Pepys' 'Diary'
- A Pleasant Invective Against Printing
- A Dead Letter
- On The Future Of Poetry
- A Rondeau To Ethel