American Old Time Song Lyrics: 58 Their Heads Nestle Closer Together

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 58

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Copyright, 1895, by Francis, Day & Hunter.
Words by Wal Pink. Music by George Le Brunn.

A garden, and in it an old apple tree,
Around which two children-a lassie turned three,
And t'other a lad of p'raps four and a half-
Are chasing each other, whilst gaily they laugh;
The maiden soon tires of the circular race,
For vainly she follows the lad in the chase;
His stronger legs make it an unequal match,
And be merrily mocks all her efforts to catch.

She cries, "Tommy, stop! "but "Tum on, Tate," says be.
"I s'ant, 'tos I tant run no farver," says she;
Then frowns, and her temper, 'tis easy to see,
Has nigh reached the length of its tether.
Then Katie breaks down with a plaintive boo-ooh;
Tom stops, And the tears are in Tommy's eyes, too;
She sobs, "Oo don't luv me!" He says, "Ess I do!"
And their heads nestle closer together.

A green lane, and in it two fond lovers roam,
And paint, in love's ardor, their bright future home;
Next Sunday's their wedding; 'tis Tommy And Kate,
But now, grown to manhood and woman's estate;
The sun has gone down far beyond the big hill,
Beneath which there murmurs the swift running rill;
The moon kissed the water in manner sedate,
And, force of example, Tom kisses young Kate.

The man in the moon at the fond couple blinks,
Then, very discreetly, behind a hill sinks,
Whilst, gaily a star at their love-making winks,
And thinks, well, it's love-making weather;
His arm 'round her waist tells the tale of this bliss;
Then you hear the voices of both man and miss:
"You mustn't!" "I shall!" and then something goes [kiss]
And their heads nestle closer together.

A church-yard, and in it a tiny babe's grave;
An early wrecked vessel on life's cruel wave;
Their twelve-month old darling, their loved one, their all,
Now gone from this earth at the Mighty One's call;
A life of pure sunshine and joy had been theirs,
With smiling face meeting all trivial cares,
Till all hope was shattered, And sped in a breath,
And life's sun o'ershadow'd by dread cloud of death.

There, in that God's acre, they stand, he and she;
The sun veils its head, as though in sympathy,
And buried the light of their life seems to be
in that grave 'neath the wild-growing heather;
The mother's tears fall o'er her babe now at rest,
The man clasps her tight to his sorrow-torn breast:
"Come, cheer up, my darling, 'tis all for the best,"
And their heads nestle closer together.
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