You'll Miss Me When I'm Gone

H. J. Wehman, Song Publisher, 50 Chatham St., N. Y.

You’ll Miss Me When I’m Gone.

I’m growing old and feeble,
My hair is turning gray,
My limbs, once light and nimble,
Are stiff and won’t obey;
My dancing days are over,
My pleasures they have gone,
For goodness, not for greatness,
You will miss me when I’m gone.

What will yon do without me,
When Winter times comes in?
Who’ll fold their arms about thee
As I have often done?
Who will hug you and caress you
When I above have flown?
You may know where you can find me,
But yon will miss me when I’m gone.

Who will fix the little garden?
Who will nurse the pretty flowers?
Who will fence the little yard in,
Where we have sat for hours?
Our children all are married,
They have left us all alone,
And when I’m dead and buried,
You will miss me when I’m gone.

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