WITH BERTHA UP THE RIVER
Reading edition
THE day we rowed to Mortlake The skies were all of blue; The dainty house-boats mocked us, But we didn’t care a sou; For you had a new frock, pet, And Bertha, I had you. The eve we rowed from Mortlake The air was all a-tune. ’Twas reaping time for kisses Beneath the harvest moon, And you were sweeter far, dear, Than roses plucked in June. The night we rowed from Mortlake Is far away as Spain. Brown fog is on the river, And the wind beats up for rain; But we shall row to Mortlake When the summer comes again.