|Song Title||Ben Bolt|
|Collected By||Williams, Alfred|
|Source Primary||WSRO: 2598/36 Packet 5 - Miscellaneous: Williams, A: MS collection No Mi 531|
Oh, don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt,
Sweet Alice with hair so brown?
She wept with delight when you gave her a smile,
And trembled with fear at a frown.
In the old churchyard in the Valley, Ben Bolt,
In a corner obscure and alone,
They have fitted a slab of granite so gay,
And sweet Alice lies under the stone.
Oh, don't you remember the wood, Ben Bolt,
Near the green sunny slope of the hill,
Where oft we have sung neath its wide spreading shade
And kept time to the click of the mill?
The mill has gone to decay, Ben Bolt,
And a quiet now reigns all around,
See: the old rustic porch with its roses so sweet
Lies scattered and fallen to the ground.
Oh, don't you remember the school, Ben Bolt,
And the master so kind and true,
And the dear little nook by the clear running brook
Where we gathered the flowers as they grew?
O'er the master's grave grows the grass, Ben Bolt,
And the running brook is now dry,
And of all the old friends who were schoolmates there,
There remains none but you, Ben, and I.
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|Transcribed and edited by Chris Wildridge, 2007.|