Polka Dot And Overalls

‘Twas but the other day, dear,

     ‘Twas but the other day,

When you and I, at home, dear,

     Were little ones at play.

You in your polka dot, dear,

     And I in overalls;

A-nutting down the lane, dear,

     Along the tumbled walls.

The golden autumn days, dear,

     Anear the cider mill;

The mellow, foaming tub, dear,

     The simple yellow quill.

We drew it through the straws, dear,

     And laughed in childish way;

And life was sweet, as well, dear,

     When little ones at play.

We’re well to do in town, dear,

     No polka dots you wear;

And overall? Ah, me, dear,

     Broadcloth makes me despair.

And in the autumn time, dear,

     When cider greets our lips;

Cut glass despoils the taste, dear,

     And turns a draught to sips.

O false and burdened lives, dear,

     O fickle bonds of style;

To breathe the breath of life, dear,

     Just for a little while.

The cider mill, the straws, dear,

     The frock and overalls;

The nutting down the lane, dear,

     Along the tumbled walls!

Oct. 3, ‘97