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The Merryman and His Maid

[HE] I have a song to sing, O!
[SHE] Sing me your song, O!
[HE] It is sung to the moon
By a love-lorn loon,
Who fled from the mocking throng, O!
It's the song of a merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye.
Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me—lackadaydee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!

[SHE] I have a song to sing, O!
[HE] Sing me your song, O!
[SHE] It is sung with the ring
Of the song maids sing

I thought our love at full, but I did err

I THOUGHT our love at full, but I did err;
Joy's wreath drooped o'er mine eyes; I could not see
That sorrow in our happy world must be
Love's deepest spokesman and interpreter:
But, as a mother feels her child first stir
Under her heart, so felt I instantly
Deep in my soul another bond to thee
Thrill with that life we saw depart from her;
O mother of our angel child! twice dear!
Death knits as well as parts, and still, I wis,
Her tender radiance shall infold us here,
Even as the light, borne up by inward bliss,

The Flappers' Freudian Song Book

“Come where my love lies dreaming,”
That song our parents enjoyed.
But now, her bright eyes beaming,
My love reads Old Doc Freud.


Last night as I lay on my pillow,
Last night as I lay in my bed—
Last night as I lay on my pillow,
I dreamed of Alonzo and Fred.


I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,
With Herbert and Al by my side;
I dreamed I was passing Niagara Falls
And I was a joyous young bride.
I dreamed of a tree and a ship and a fire,
And a garden with ten high walls;
And it means that for years I've suppressed a desire
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