There is a little black road winding down through the vale
To a little white cot near the sea
There are two little green gates
Where a black spaniel waits,
With his soft brown eyes
And wistful sighs
So patiently.
There is a white hair or two just beneath his well chin
And a few on his breast you can see.
But through all the long days
By the green gates he stays
With his soft brown eyes
And wistful sighs
So patiently.
Someone he loves has gone from his life.
It is she he is longing to see
So through all the long days
By the green gates the stays
With his soft brown eyes
And wistful sighs
So patiently.