MY OLD STRAW HAT.
Farewell, old friend,—we part at last;
Fruits, flowers, and summer, all are past,
And when the beech-leaves bid adieu,
My Old Straw Hat must vanish too.
We've been together many an hour,
In grassy dell and garden bower;
And plait and riband, scorch'd and torn,
Proclaim how well thou hast been worn.
We've had a time, gay, bright, and long;
So let me sing a grateful song,—
And if one bay-leaf falls to me,
I'll stick it firm and fast in thee,
My Old Straw Hat.
Fruits, flowers, and summer, all are past,
And when the beech-leaves bid adieu,
My Old Straw Hat must vanish too.
We've been together many an hour,
In grassy dell and garden bower;
And plait and riband, scorch'd and torn,
Proclaim how well thou hast been worn.
We've had a time, gay, bright, and long;
So let me sing a grateful song,—
And if one bay-leaf falls to me,
I'll stick it firm and fast in thee,
My Old Straw Hat.
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