A churchyard and in it a tiny babe’s grave;
An early wrecked vessel on life’s cruel wave.

Yesterday’s post briefly mentioned one of the songs by serio-comic performer Priscilla Verne (who will figure quite prominently here over the coming days).

Since I guess that most people are unfamiliar with the sentimental tripe performed at variety shows in the late Victorian era, offered below for your delight is the final verse and chorus of ‘Their Heads Nestle Closer Together’. See if you can read it without wanting to throw up.

A churchyard and in it a tiny babe’s grave;
 An early wrecked vessel on life’s cruel wave.
Their twelve month old darling, their loved one their all,
 Now gone from this Earth at the Mighty One’s call,
A life of pure sunshine and joy has been theirs,
 With smiling face meeting all trivial cares,
Till all hope was shattered and sped in a breath,
 And life’s sun o’ershadowed by cloud of death.

Chorus: There, in that God’s acre, they stand, he and she,
 The sun veils its head as tho’ in sympathy,
And buried the light of their life seems to be.
 In that grave ‘neath the wild growing heather.
The mother’s tears fall o’er her babe now at rest,
 The man clasps her tight to his sorrow-torn breast;
‘Come, cheer up my darling, ’tis all for the best.’
 And their heads nestle closer together!