Meg
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At sixteen years I was blue ans sad.
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then father said I should find a lad.
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So I set out to become a wife,
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An' found the real love of my life.
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His name it was Chris, and the last was MacGill.
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I met him one night pickin' flowers on the hill.
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He had lots of charm an' a certain kind o' touch,
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An a certain kind of eagerness that pleased me very much.
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so there 'neath the moon where romance often springs,
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I gave him my heart--an' a few other things.
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I don't know how long that I stayed up on the hill,
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But the moon had disappeared, and so had Christopher MacGill.
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So I went home an' I thought I'd die,
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Till Father said, make another try.
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So out I went to become a wife,
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An' found the real love of my lfe.
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He came from the lowlands, the lowlands said he.
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I saw him an' knew he was perfect for me.
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Jus' one thing that puzzled me an' it always will,
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Was he told me he had heard about me from his friend MacGill.
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We quick fell in love an' went down by the creek.
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The next day he said he'd be back in a week,
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An' I thought he would, for now how was I to know
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That of all the lowland laddies, there was never one as low!
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I told my father the awful truth.
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He said,
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-----------------
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There But For You, Go I
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| Alan Jay Lerner |
