Mother: Ay, the night was frosty, Coldly gaped the moon, Yet the birds seemed twittering Through green boughs of June. Soft and thick the snow lay, Stars danced in the sky. Not all the lambs of May-day Skip so bold and high. Your feet were dancing, Alice, Seemed to dance on air, You looked a ghost or angel In the starlight there. Your eyes were frosted starlight, Your heart, fire, and snow. Who was it said 'I love you?' Alice: Mother, let me go! TRUE JOHNNY Mary: Johnny, sweetheart, can you be true To all those famous vows you've made? Will you love me as I love you Until we both in earth are laid? Or shall the old wives nod and say 'His love was only for a day, The mood goes by, His fancies fly, And Mary's left to sigh.' Johnny: Mary, alas, you've hit the truth, And I with grief can but admit Hot-blooded haste controls my youth, My idle fancies veer and flit From flower to flower, from tree to tree, And when the moment catches me Oh, love goes by, Away I fly, And leave my girl to sigh. Mary: Could you but now foretell the day, Johnny, when this sad thing must be, When light and gay you'll turn away And laugh and break the heart in me? For like a nut for true love's sake My empty heart shall crack and break, When fancies fly And love goes by And Mary's left to die. Johnny: When the sun turns against the clock, When Avon waters upward flow, When eggs are laid by barn-door cock, When dusty hens do strut and crow, When up is down, when left is right, Oh, then I'll break the troth I plight, With careless eye Away I'll fly And Mary here shall die. THE CUPBOARD Mother: What's in that cupboard, Mary? Mary: Which cupboard, mother dear? Mother: The cupboard of red mahogany With handles shining clear. Mary: That cupboard, dearest mother, With shining crystal handles? There's nought inside but rags and jags And yellow tallow candles. Mother: What's in that cupboard, Mary? Mary: Which cupboard, mother mine? Mother: That cupboard stands in your sunny chamber, The silver corners shine. Mary: There's nothing there inside, mother, But wool and thread and flax, And bits of faded silk and velvet And candles of white wax. Mother: What's in that cupboard, Mary? And this time tell me true.