^LtJ. &t/c/ttttd 1/'. S/c/t/e//e/tn . '«. D. N. CARVALHO, Photographer aYid Lithographer^22S0 Third Avenue. O.rfO. Prt-U*- JA7 **» 1 >Itfj f apanqsa Ipiifol* Happy flutist all alone, Floating on-that lonely sea, With thy bare feet "in the water, So entranced, you cannot see That the kettle's boiling over And its time to make your tea ! The full moon stands still to listen, It must be the (Summer moon, For that thin mysterious tree Coming right up from the sea, Has t he leaves of early June. And I know you're playing something, Soft and low ; to suit the time, Suit the moon light on the water, Ami the waves responding chime. And I know you'll float forever, With your back against the moon No one but yourself to listen No one else has heard that tune. You will never cease that playing, So will never make that tea — And that moon will have no waning, Nor a leaf drop from that tree. That small sail is furled forever, Forever rests the slender oar And the basket with your rations, Won't be opened any more. Take me with you, happy flutist, Floating on the sea, or river, Let me hear the tune you play, I will listen night, and day, While we float on forever.