Full Lyrics
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 your frown.
In the old churchyard, in the valley, Ben Bolt,
In a corner obscure and alone,
They have fitted a slab of granite so gray,
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 soft we have sun ’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 so true,
And the little nook by the clear running brook
Where we gathered the flowers as the grew.
On the Master’s grave grows the grass, Ben Bolt,
And the running little brook is now dry;
And of all the friends who were schoolmates then,
There remains, Ben, but you and I.
Thomas Dunn English, as remembered by A.M. Hunt
