1.
O! I think of the days, when but a little child,
I sported o'er the meadows, to the hill,
Where the sweet flowers bloom'd, and were ever growing wild,
Near the stream that rippled near the mill.
But the old mill has gone to decay long ago,
Where I romp'd with my little darling Kate
And the Miller lies sleeping where the gentle breezes blow
Where we play'd near the turnpike gate.

CHORUS
O! the turnpike gate, 'tis the pride of my heart.
I love it, so does my darling Kate,
For she sits beside me now, with a smile upon her brow,
And remindes me of the turnpike gate.

2.
Ah! the "log school" has long since gone to decay,
Where the schoolmaster heard us recite,
And he misses you and I for he used to see us play,
When our little hearts were fill'd with delight,
And when the school was out, we would wander to the spring,
And I'd draw for you pictures on your slate,
And then the joy it gave us, when you and I would swing,
To and fro, on the turnpike gate.

(CHORUS)

3.
Now its old broken hinges have grown red with rust,
And its timbers are all going to decay
And how many swung upon it that have return'd to dust,
Since you and I upon it used to play
O! I love it for it 'twas there in my boyhood days,
That first I saw and lov'd my darling Kate;
And she sits beside me now with a smile upon her brow,
And reminds me of the turnpike gate.

(CHORUS)

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