Of many noble actions done but few receive their just reward,
Some are praised for p'r'aps a day and then they seem to be ignored;
For instance, there's brave Tommy Atkins, who's fought upon the battle-field;
What is his consolation for the plucky conduct he's revealed?

Chorus: He parts from his lass, tho' her heart p'raps may break,
Forth to the war with his honour at stake,
Fights like a Briton for his country's sake,
Wins glory for his dear old nation.
And then in the end when he's aged and poor,
In London is living in want and obscure,
He gets his reward at the cold parish door,
That is his consolation.

It is a noble action should a bobby to his wifey say,
'I'll come home early, love tonight and then we'll journey to the play.'
But should he meet old cronies, all his good resolves fall to the ground,
And what's her consolation, as she waits and and eyes the clock go round?

Chorus: He meets some old pals, who say, 'Come on, have one.'
He then has another and one more for fun,
Gets home, worse for wear, to his wifey at home,
Who waits her revenge with elation.
When he goes to bed and is soundly asleep,
To seek her reward to his pockets she'll creep,
And for breaking his promise she collars the heap,
Just a small consolation.

A noble action you may witness in a mother, good and true,
Doing for her little children that woman's power can do;
P'rhaps she has a drunkard husband, caring nought for her good work,
What reward has this good woman for duty that she ne'er will shirk?

Chorus: Making and mending, at work all the day,
To heaven at night, for her children she'll pray,
Tending to them whether ill or at play,
A noble and grand occupation.
What makes her cheerful, if you should inquire,
She's say, 'From the labour of love I never tire,
The love of my children is all I desire,
That is my consolarion.'

You've noticed with pride a father hails the advent of his first,
Mr. Youngman was the same, with pride he very nearly burst;
But years rolled on, the kids increased and yesterday he tore his hair,
When he got home, 'There's another boy!' was what he heard the nurse declare.

Chorus: He swore at the nurse and he kicked at the cat,
Broke in the top of his new Sunday hat;
The nurse, poor old girl, wondered what he was at,
Oh! what a fine celebration,
But stay, what consoles him and fills him with glee?
Why does he swear he's as pleased as can be?
He's heard that his enemy, Brown's, just had three!!!
Oh! there's a consolation!
Written and composed by Geo. A. Stevens & John Francis - 1907
Performed by George D'Albert (1870-1949)
From Music Hall Lyrics Collection
home spaceA spaceB spaceC spaceD spaceE spaceF spaceG spaceH spaceI spaceJ spaceK spaceL spaceM spaceN spaceO spaceP spaceQ spaceR spaceS spaceT spaceU spaceV spaceW spaceX spaceY spaceZ