The Little Old Table
Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses
CREAK, little wood thin, creak,When I touch you with elbow or knee;That is the way you speakOf one who gave you to me!
You, little table, she brought—Brought me with her own hand,As she looked at me with a thoughtThat I did not understand.
—Whoever owns it anon,And hears it, will never knowWhat a history hangs uponThis creak from long ago.
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