  Hark! I hear the organ-grinder Coming down the street, And the sudden clatter-patter Of the children's feet! Come, oh, let us run to meet him! Did you ever hear Tunes so gay as he is playing, Or so sweet and clear? See the brown-faced little monkey, Impudent and bold, With his little scarlet jacket Braided all in gold! And his tiny cap and tassel Bobbing to and fro, Look, oh, look! he plucks it off now, Bowing very low. And he's passing it politely— Can it be for pay? O dear me! I have no penny! Let us run away! |
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