Page:Songs of a Savoyard.djvu/118

Rh He slapped at his chest, as he sat on that bough,
 * Singing "Willow, titwillow, titwillow!"

And a cold perspiration bespangled his brow,
 * Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!

He sobbed and he sighed, and a gurgle he gave, Then he threw himself into the billowy wave, And an echo arose from the suicide's grave—
 * "Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!"

Now I feel just as sure as I'm sure that my name
 * Isn't Willow, titwillow, titwillow,

That 'twas blighted affection that made him exclaim,
 * "Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!"

And if you remain callous and obdurate, I Shall perish as he did, and you will know why, Though I probably shall not exclaim as I die,
 * "Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!"