Twenty, Forty, Sixty, Eighty A Hundred Years Ago, All Through The Night With Lantern Bright The Watch Trudged To And Fro, And Little Boys Tucked Snug Abed Would Wake From Dreams To Hear - 'Two O' The Morning By The Clock, And The Stars A-Shining Clear!' Or, When Across The Chimney-Tops Screamed Shrill A North-East Gale, A Faint And Shaken Voice Would Shout, 'Three! And A Storm Of Hail!'