We walked to school,
Our Al and me,
A good three miles or more
Through the land, across the lea,
Down to the gully floor.
Every morning, sharp at nine,
Through the schoolhouse porch,
To the sound of music fine
Like soldiers smart we walked.
We learned to read and write to spell,
To sing a roundelay,
Around the maypole every spring
We wove the ribbons gay.
Many a game was lost or won
In the old school yard,
To the sound of children's voices
Echoing shrill and loud.
At Christmas time, in concert gay,
As grand ladies we appeared,
To Al and me, for one whole day,
Our patched clothes disappeared.
The little school stands there still.
Teachers loved are gone away
But the golden days for Al and me.
We remember still today.