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THE LONELY OLD FELLOW
THE ROSES are bedded for winter, the tulips are planted
for spring;
The robins and martins have left us; there are only
the sparrows to sing.
The garden seems solemnly silent, awaiting its blan
kets of snow,
And I feel like a lonely old fellow with nowhere to
turn or to go.
All summer I ve hovered about them, all summer
they ve nodded at me;
I ve wandered and waited among them the first pink
of blossom to see;
I ve known them and loved and caressed them, and
now all their splendor has fled,
And the harsh winds of winter all tell me the friends
of my garden are dead.
I m a lonely old fellow, that s certain. All winter
with nothing to do
But sit by the window recalling the days when my
skies were all blue;
But my heart is not given to sorrow and never my
lips shall complain,
For winter shall pass and the sunshine shall give me
my roses again.
And so for the friends that have vanished, the friends
that they tell me are dead,
Who have traveled the road to God s Acres and sleep
where the willows are spread;
They have left me a lonely old fellow to sit here and
dream by the pane,
But I know, like the friends of my garden, we shall
all meet together again.
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