A Birches Boy
byMoses Teggart. Springfield, Mass. U.S.A. abt. 1889.
|When I was out of infancy uncurled;
As jumped right into joy,
Twas the grandest in all the wor:d
To be a Birches boy.
Hardship might stare us in the face,
Newsmongers might annoy;
But on earth there was no finer place,
No lad like a Birches boy.
The wolf ne’er got inside the door;
Nor as bailiff from the Foy;
The bogs wi’ purple were covered o’er
For the blue eyed Birches boy.
|There was always a milker from the Rock,
Or a madam from the Moy
To fiil the can and an’ cream the crock
For every Birches Boy.
In barn an’ byre an’ in the home
There was always top an’ joy;
An’ no matter where I might roam,
I was still a birches boy.
|There was --- some girl a ----- who girl,
Now coaxin an’ –ow –oy,
An’ Mora still opened the gates o’ pearl,
For her an’ the Birches boy.
The skipper when I crossed the sea,
Just whispered "Mate, ahoy!"
He told then all to be good to me,
To be kind to the Birches boy.
Tell them at home in the motherland,
That I’m pleased with my employ;
That the hand that writes this is the hand
Of a brave old Birches boy.