My grandmother sat in the old rocking chair (But sho ivas not my grandmother then), Aad her pert little face was bewitchingly fair As she laughed a deflance to men I Her sunbonnet flutter'd like bird on its string, Her hair wandered f ree on the breeze ; And gayly 1 ween did my grandmother sing Underneath those old gnarl'd apple trees. My grandfather rode through the white orciard gate, And tethered hls roan to a tree; He'd a well powder'd wig on his silly young pate, And high tassel'd boots to his kneel From the pink apple blossoms that over hún hung, He brush'd off the dew with his hat, Till he carne to the place where the rocking chair swung, And my merry young grandmother sat. The kingcup and daisy bloomed round in their pride, And bees of their sweetness did sip; But my grandfather blush'd and my grandfather sigh'd. As he fiick'd off their heads with his whip; Jly granny she hummed her a cunning old song- "Faint heart never won ladye fair!" So he wooed and ho prayed, and before very long There sat tno in that old rockine chair!