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No. 15 - Song - Freda
| Freda: | In an old Dutch town once a bold young man Loved a maid with a burning passion; But he knew full well That his love he must tell In the simple Dutch old-world fashion. So, cigar in hand, to her home he went; Perforce it must go unlighted-- If to him she came With a match aflame, Then his love was for sure requited. A small cigar he put to his lips, He longed for the fragrant flavour; A match was all he asked her to grant, 'Twas not such a wondrous favour. But she, though kind, Politely declined When fervently he besought her. Alas! that night His heart was alight, But never the cigar he brought her! |
| Now this lover sighed as he homeward strolled, For he felt he was sorely slighted; Yet he smiled because, As the custom was, His troth must be three times plighted. So again he went, and again with hope A fresh cigar he selected; And against his will He was bitter, still He prayed for the unexpected. A small cigar he put to his lips, He longed for the fragrant flavour; A match was all he asked her to grant, 'Twas not such a wondrous favour. But she, though kind, Politely declined When fervently he besought her. Again that night His heart was alight, But never the cigar he brought her! |
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| Now this bold young man (for I'd have you know He was really exceeding plucky,) Started out once more, All undaunted, for He was sure a third time was lucky. On the next day then to her home he turned, Fresh hopes in his breast arising, For he knew of old That a heart now cold Can tomorrow be sympathizing. A small cigar he put to his lips, He longed for the fragrant flavour; A match was all he asked her to grant, 'Twas not such a wondrous favour. At length she came, her cheeks all aflame When finally he besought her. And so that night his heart was alight, And also the cigar he brought her! |
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Page modified 25 January 2017