A wandering fellow is he,
Is he!
A wandering fellow is he,
With each new day I seek out my window,
In September to my surprise in my window he did spy,
In my window saw he,
Solid grey except for his boots,
Boots white as snow are they,
Are they!
Always a wink and a smile,
The prince comes calling does Charlie,
Does he!
Along comes Prince Charlie,
Quasqueton is where we live,
Though we barely chat,
I know we are dear friends,
And my porch his court,
Word goes out and it seems all those seeking a bite wander bye,
Wander bye they do,
Gives the poet I am cause to smile,
A purpose and a friend,
Prince Charlie and me,
