As I go down the street
A hundred boys a day I meet,
And gazing from my window high
I like to watch them passing by.
I like the boy that earns his bread;
The boy that holds my horse’s head,
The boy that tidies up the bar,
The boy that hawks the Globe and Star.
Smart-looking lads are in my line;
The lad that gives my boots a shine,
The lad that works the lift below,
The lad that’s lettered G.P.O.
I like the boy of business air
That guards the loaded van with care,
Or cycles through the city crowd,
Or adds the ledger up aloud.
I like the boy that’s fond of play:
The office-boy cracks jokes all day,
The barber’s ‘prentice makes me laugh,
The bookstall-boy gives back my chaff
When travelling home by tram or train
I meet a hundred boys again,
Behind them on the ‘bus I ride
Or pace the platform by their side.
And though I never see you there
All boys your name and nature share,
And almost every day I make
Some new acquaintance for your sake.
