Och, Miss! it's a beautiful pair
Of socks for the sojers yo've knit!
And for any one jist of my size
It is a most illigant fit!
A trifle too big in the heel,
And a leetle too small in the toe,
But by shifting 'em round eend for eend,
It's surprising how nately they go.
With my feet all so cosey and nice,
As I tramp through the mud and the snow,
It's a deal of sweet comfort to think
Of some dear little girl I don't know!
And I dream she's a dreaming perhaps,
When she hears the cold wind and the storm,
How thankful some sojer must be
That her needle has helped to keep warm.
And my heart—och! it's foolish no doubt,
Keeps a hoping—it may be some day
The sojer may meet the sweet girl
In her dear Northern home far away.
And thin—if of knittin' she's fond,
And she chance to be nobody's wife,
I've an illigant hand and a futt
That would kape ye a knitting for life!