There is an umbrella from the old town
It shades the broken lads from the rain
And mends the widow's last hope
But the rain resounds not in its roof ...
Suppose, my dear, that you were I
And by your side your sweetheart sate;
Suppose you noticed by and by
The distance 'twixt you were too great;
Now tell me, dear, what would you do?
I know-and so do you.
