#427 - The Dear Old Village School
- Composer:
- Incipit: 53345123543467651432123
- Condensed Incipit: 5345123543467651432123
- Lyrics:
How oft I've said too late, since I tarried by the gate,
Near the dear old schoolhouse down the shady lane;
Where little boys were classed, many happy days were pass'd,
Oh, those happy days that ne'er will come again,
How oft in childish glee I have read my A, B, C,
While my classmates play'd the scholar or the fool;
If I had the chance today what attention I would pay
To the teachings of the dear old village school!
chorus:
Those days of childish glee seemed a paradise to me,
As either one play'd scholar or the fool;
If I had the chance today, what attention I would pay
To the teachings of the dear old village school!
My playmates ev'ry one, when the schoolhouse bell was wrung,
In their merry laughter side by side would go;
Cheerful faces beaming bright, in the sunshine's welcome light,
As to mother dear, a goodbye kiss we'd throw;
Those days unheeded flew for how little then I knew,
The value of the pencil, slate and rule;
Such grains of knowledge cast, but to mingle with the past,
They were left to crumble with the village school!
The years have pass'd and gone, for the night has follower morn,
And to man's estate from boyhood's dream I've strayed,
My weary plodding feet tread a busy thriving street,
Just where the quiet shady lane once laid;
Where the schoolhouse used to stand there's a stately mansion grand,
Where still they play the scholar and the fool;
And I'm thinking now today of the chances thrown away,
That were mine when in the dear old village school!
