H.M.S. "PINAFORE"
The Nightingale
Loved the pale moon's bright ray
And told his tale
In his own melodious way,
He sang, "Ah, Well-a-day!"
The lowly vale
For the mountain vainly sighed;
To his humble wail
The echoing hills replied,
They sang, "Ah, Well-a-day!"
"Who is the silly cuckoo who is tweetling up aloft?" asked Little Buttercup, rather rudely, as she scooped up the last drops of her ice.
"That?" said Bobstay, "Why, that's only poor Ralph Rackstraw who's in love with Miss Josephine."
"Ralph Rackstraw!" exclaimed little Buttercup, "Ha! I could tell you a good deal about him if I chose. But I won't—not yet!"
At this point Ralph descended the rigging and joined his messmates on deck.
"Ah, my lad," said one of them, "you're quite right to come down—for you've climbed too high. Our worthy Captain's child won't have nothing to say to a poor chap like you."
All the sailors said "Hear, hear," and nodded
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