I wandered to the village, Tom and sat beneath the tree Upon the schoolhouse playing ground that sheltered you and me But none were left to greet me, Tom and few were left to know Who played with us upon that green just forty years ago 
The spring still bubbles beneath the hill close by the spreading beech It’s very low, ’twas once so high that I could scarcely reach Then kneeling down to take a drink dear Tom, I started so To see how very much I’d changed since forty years ago 
Close by the spring upon the elm you know I cut your name Your sweetheart just beneath it, Tom and you did mine the same Some heartless wretch has peeled the bark it’s dying sure but slow Just as the ones whose name I cut just forty years ago 
Some now are in the churchyard laid some sleep beneath the sea But none are left of our old class excepting you an’ me An’ when our time does come, dear Tom an’ we are called to go I hope they lay us where we played just forty years ago 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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