Copyright, 1894, by Frank Herding.
Words and Music by John Walsh.
Two lovers sat gazing into each others eyes,
The moon peeped out slyly from the bluest of skies,
Showed a stalwart young blacksmith and a sweet, blushing maid"From childhood we've courted," to his loved one he said;
"I am now twenty-one, and a man, so they say-
Will you be my wife, Maggie; don't say nay."
Maggie Reardon, you are all the world to me;
Our vows of love we whispered beneath the old oak tree;
We were sweethearts, yes, in schooldays: though now we've older grown,
You're still as dear to me, sweet Maggie Reardon.
A year has rolled on since the joy bells did ring,
Which proclaimed that sweet Maggie to church I must bring;
I am happy while toiling in the old blacksmith shop;
My wife, with our baby, at the door oft does stop,
And watch sparks from the anvil fly like ocean spray,
While each tap of the hammer seems to say:- Chorus.