Songs We Like to Sing

Published 1912 Ben Bolt Thomas Dunn EnglishNelson Kneass

Oh! don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt,
Sweet Alice whose hair was so brown,
Who wept with delight when you have her a smile,
And trembled with fear at your frown?
In the old church-yard in the valley, Ben Bolt
In a corner obscure and alone,
They have fitted a slab of the granite so gray
And sweet Alice lies under the stone,
They have fitted a slab of granite so gray,
And sweet Alice lies under the stone.

Under the hickory tree, Ben Bolt,
Which stood at the foot of the hill,
To gether we've lain in the noonday shade, And listened to Appleton's mill.
The mill wheel has fallen to peices, Ben Bolt,
The rafters have tumbled in,
And a quiet that crawls round the walls as you gaze,
Has followed the olden din,
And a quiet that crawls round the walls as you gaze,
Has followed the olden din.

And don't you remember the school, Ben Bolt,
With the master so kind so true,
And the shaded nook by the running brook,
Where the faiest wild-flowers grew?
Grass grows on the master's grave, Ben Bolt,
The spring of the brook is dry,
And of all the boys who were school-mates then,
There are only you and I,
And of all the boys who were school-mates then,
There are only you and I.