The Excursion Boat

Into the boat the breeze blows fair,
It blows across the deck;
It blows the little children's hair,--
They get it in the neck.

And in this picture you may see
The happy girls and boys,
So true to life,--but thankful be
You cannot hear the noise.

The great steam-whistle's fearful squeaks.
The band, ill-tuned and loud;
The babies with their screams and shrieks,
The bustle of the crowd.

Grown People, you'd prefer, afloat,
A private yacht, I'm sure;
Then shun the gay excursion boat
Unless you're very poor.