Hark! I hear the organ-grinder
Coming down the street,
And the sudden clatter-patter
Of the children's feet!
Come, oh, let us run to meet him!
Did you ever hear
Tunes so gay as he is playing,
Or so sweet and clear?
See the brown-faced little monkey,
Impudent and bold,
With his little scarlet jacket
Braided all in gold!
And his tiny cap and tassel
Bobbing to and fro,
Look, oh, look! he plucks it off now,
Bowing very low.
And he's passing it politely—
Can it be for pay?
O dear me! I have no penny!
Let us run away!