In her eyes only are his lucky numbers,
so he – old-fashioned as he is –
calls her “sweet-of-my-heart,
darling of my remembrance –
“you have so many good songs
to thrill then calm my ears.
No water lapping by seashore,
no wind in the willows,
no distant violin or far-off bell
can compare with your songs,
darling of distances soon to be reckoned.
But you’ve one song I’ve never heard,
the one you’ve denied me,
and I miss it more than all the coins I’ve lost
through sloth & folly,
all the pennies left in heaven.
[print-me]
