And our games upon the hill-side,
On the green, or by the swing,
With Antoinette and Amy,
Who were foremost in the ring?
Or our quarrel in the greenwood,
Underneath the spreading vine,
Because a school-boy lover
Preferred your eyes to mine?—
Do you remember, Mary,
All those happy girlhood hours,
When our hearts were light and airy,
And we trod a path of flowers?—
A path of thornless flowers,
Beneath a smiling sky,
Nor dreamed in such fair bowers
That care could ever lie.
On the green, or by the swing,
With Antoinette and Amy,
Who were foremost in the ring?
Or our quarrel in the greenwood,
Underneath the spreading vine,
Because a school-boy lover
Preferred your eyes to mine?—
Do you remember, Mary,
All those happy girlhood hours,
When our hearts were light and airy,
And we trod a path of flowers?—
A path of thornless flowers,
Beneath a smiling sky,
Nor dreamed in such fair bowers
That care could ever lie.
And I hope you've not forgotten
Our first and famous ball,
When we tripped it gay and lightly
Through that antiquated hall;
Our first and famous ball,
When we tripped it gay and lightly
Through that antiquated hall;
