Thomas Haynes Bayly

Friends depart, and memory takes them
To her caverns, pure and deep.

Friends depart, and memory takes them
To her caverns, pure and deep.

There is a method in man's wickedness:
It grows up by degrees.

There is a method in man's wickedness:
It grows up by degrees.

O give me new figures! I can't go on dancing
The same that were taught me ten seasons ago;
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O give me new figures! I can't go on dancing
The same that were taught me ten seasons ago;
The schoolmaster over the land is advancing,
Then why is the master of dancing so slow?
It is such a bore to be always caught tripping
In dull uniformity year after year;
Invent something new, and you'll set me a skipping:
I want a new figure to dance with my Dear!

Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.

Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.

And the Baron's retainers were blithe and gay,
And keeping their Christmas holiday.

And the Baron's retainers were blithe and gay,
And keeping their Christmas holiday.