Classic Poem

In Folly-land what witchery
What pretty looks, what eyes there be!
What gamesome ways; what dimpled smiles;
What lissome limbs; what frolic wiles;
What pranks to play; what jests to hear!
Old Time forgets his sliding sand:
The days go tripping, hand-in-hand,
In Folly-land, in Folly-land.

In Folly-land, one idle hour,
The moonlight had a wizard power;
Its eerie glamour turned my brain—
I would that I were there again!
We stood together, 'neath the sky;
A bird was chirping drowsily;
He smiled, he sighed, he held my hand,
Ah me! ah well! we understand,
'T was Folly-land, 't was Folly-land.

My sober friend, how worn your looks!
Your heart is in your mouldy books.
Here 's half a cobweb on your brow!
I seldom see you jovial now.
Fling down your volumes and be free
To take a pleasure trip with me.
Come, “Here's my heart, and here's my hand!”
We 'll launch our skiff and seek the strand
Of Folly-land, of Folly-land.