GRANDMA’S GARGEN.

GRANDMA’S GARGEN.
298.9

In Grandma’s dear old-fashioned garden,
Where countless flowers grow,
Nodding in the soft south wind,
Gently swaying to and fro,

Overhead the birds are singing,
To the dear old-fashioned flowers,
And the honey bees are humming,
In the sweet and sunny bowers.

Children playing in the garden,
Gather blossonis never missed,
In the sweet and sunny morning,
When the flowers with dew are kissed.

Grandma loves her dear old garden,
And she goes there every day,
For she likes to see her flowers,
In the gentle south wind sway.

And she likes to have the children
In her dear old garden play:
Many times she will amuse them,
In her quaint, old-fashioned way.

She likes to hear their laughing voices,
Singing in their childish way,
Likes to see them ‘mongst the flowers,
That the gentle breezes away

In Grandma’s dear old-fashioned garden,
Where countless flowers grow,
Fill the air with sweetest perfumes,