In books lies the soul of the whole Past Time: the articulate audible voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream.
Thomas Carlyle
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Honeysuckle Rose
Honey, honey,
Oh, honey, listen to my plea
Every honeybee
Fills with jealousy,
When they see you out with me!
I don't blame them, goodness knows,
Oh, honey! suckle rose!
When you're passin' by,
Flowers droop and sigh
And I know the reason why,
You're my sweety, goodness knows,
Oh, honey! suckle rose!
I don't buy sugar,
You just have to touch my cup,
I don't need sugar,
It's sweet enough when you stir it up!
When I'm taking sips
From your dainty lips,
Seems the honey fairly drips,
You're confection, goodness knows,
Oh, honey! suckle rose.
Every honeybee
Fills with jealousy,
When they see you out with me!
I don't blame them, goodness knows,
Oh, honey! suckle rose!
When you're passin' by,
Flowers droop and sigh,
And I know the reason why,
You're my sweety, goodness knows,
Oh, honey ! suckle rose!
I don't buy sugar,
You just have to touch my cup,
I don't need sugar,
It's sweet, stir it up!
When I'm taking sips
From your dainty lips,
Seems the honey fairly drips,
You're confection, goodness knows,
Oh, honey! suckle rose.