Forty Years After

We climbed to the top of Goat Point hill,
    Sweet Kitty, my sweetheart, and I;
And watched the moon make stars on the waves,
    And the dim white ships go by,
While a throne we made on a rough stone wall,
    And the king and the queen were we;
And I sat with my arm about Kitty,
    And she with her arm about me.

The water was mad in the moonlight,
    And the sand like gold where it shone,
And our hearts kept time to its music,
    As we sat in the splendour alone.
And Kitty's dear eyes twinkled brightly,
    And Kitty's brown hair blew so free,
While I sat with my arm about Kitty,
    And she with her arm about me.

Last night we drove in our carriage,
    To the wall at the top of the hill;
And though we're forty years older,
    We're children and sweethearts still.
And we talked again of that moonlight
    That danced so mad on the sea,
When I sat with my arm about Kitty,
    And she with her arm about me.

The throne on the wall was still standing,
    But we sat in the carriage last night,
For a wall is too high for old people
    Whose foreheads have linings of white.
And Kitty's waist measure is forty,
    While mine is full fifty and three,
So I can't get my arm about Kitty,
    Nor can she get both hers around me.