As I went out a Crow
In a low voice said " Oh,
I was looking for you.
How do you do?
I just came to tell you
To tell Lesley (will you?)
That her little Bluebird
Wanted me to bring word
That the north wind last night
That made the stars bright
And made ice on the trough
Almost made him cough
His tail feathers off.
He just had to fly!
But he sent her Good-by,
And said to be good,
And wear her red hood,
And look for skunk tracks
In the snow with an ax —
And do everything!
And perhaps in the spring
He would come back and sing."

The rhythmic beating of his tail,
As though two hearts took turn about,
One thump inside, and then one out, —
Like all things earthly, it must fail.
Pacific gesture, made to span
The gap 'twixt animal and man,
Death stopt it. One last waggle; so
Went Kelso where the good dogs go.

As I went down to the old depot
To see the train roll by,
I thought I saw my dear old girl
Hang her head and cry.

The night was dark and stormy;
It sure did look like rain.
Not a friend in the whole wide world,
And no one knew my name.

No one knew my name, poor boy,
No one knew my name;
Not a friend in the whole wide world,
And no one knew my name.

" Go away, Mr. Judge, go away, Mr. Judge,
Just wait a little while.
I think I saw my dear old girl
Walk for miles and miles.

As I went down by Hastings Mill I lingered in my going
To smell the smell of piled-up deals and feel the salt wind blowing,
To hear the cables fret and creak and the ropes stir and sigh
(Shipmate, my shipmate!) as in days gone by.

As I went down by Hastings Mill I saw a ship there lying,
About her tawny yards the little clouds of sunset flying;
And half I took her for the ghost of one I used to know
(Shipmate, my shipmate!) many years ago.

As I went down by Hastings Mill I saw while I stood dreaming

As I was walking in the fields last Tuesday of all days, in a hollow under the quiet wood I heard two talking together. I drew nearer to them until I was at the very place, and who should be there conversing but my sweetheart with her mother. " My dear daughter, here you are by me with your hands free, your costume fair, handsomely set up — and I mean to marry you off.

As I was walking in a field of wheat,
I picked up something good to eat;
Neither fish, flesh, fowl, nor bone,
I kept it till it ran alone.

As I was lumb'ring down de street,
down de street,
down de street,
A handsome gal I chanc'd to meet;
Oh! she was fair to view.

  Buffalo gals, cant you come out tonight?
cant you come out tonight?
cant you come out tonight?
  Buffalo gals, cant you come out tonight?
  And dance by de light ob de moon.

I ax'd her would she hab some talk,
hab some talk,
hab some talk,
Her feet cover'd up de whole sidewalk
As she stood close by me.

I ax'd her would she hab a dance,
hab a dance,
hab a dance,

As I was walking down Covent Garden,
Listen awhile and the truth I'll declare,
Who should I meet but my dearest comrade,
Wrapped up in flannel, so hard was his fate.

Had I but known what his disorder was,
Had I but known it, and took it in time,
I'd took pila cotia, all sorts of white mercury,
But now I'm cut off in the height of my prime.

Doctors, take away your mercury bottles,
For I am going to draw my last breath,
And into my coffin throw handfuls of funeral fine,
Let them all see that I die a sad death.

As I was walking all alane,

I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
"Where sall we gang and dine today?"

"In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.

"His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.

"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue een;
Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair

As I was walkin' down Wexford Street
Me father's house I chanc't to meet;
Me aged father stood in the dure,
An' me sister stood on the flure,
While me tender mother her hair she ture.