If I have had some merry times In roaming up and down the earth, Have made some happy-hearted rhymes And had my brimming share of mirth, And if this song should live in fame When my brief day is dead and gone, Let it recall with mine the name Of old man Jesse Covington. Let it recall his waggish heart— Yeke-hey, yeke-hey, hey-diddle-diddle— When, while the fire-logs fell apart, He snatched the bow across his fiddle, And looked on, with his eyes half shut, Which meant his soul was wild with fun, At our mad capers through the hut Of old man Jesse Covington. For all the thrilling tales he told, For all the tunes the fiddle knew, For all the glorious nights of old We boys and he have rollicked through, For laughter all unknown to wealth That roared responsive to a pun, A hale, ripe age and ruddy health To old man Jesse Covington!
All books are sourced from Project Gutenberg