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WILL S. HAYS' 
 
 Songs ai]d Pobitis 
 
 LOUISVILLE, KY.: 
 
 COURIER-JOURJMAL JOB PRINTlNa OO. FUBtlSHERg. 
 
 IS86, 
 

 'To * ro^y * Fpiends 
 
 I MOST AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATE THIS COLLECTION 
 OF 80NCS AND POEMS. 
 
 Years "Gnxl^, Y/ilik S. HAYS 
 
 COPVKIGHTEO l886. 
 
-HicsoNas*-*- 
 
 Published by permission of S. Brainard & Sons, Cleveland, Ohio. 
 EVANGELINE. 
 
 Sweet Evangeline, my lost Evfingeline, 
 
 We have lived and loved each other fond and true; 
 Ever true to thee, tho' far away I'v^ been, 
 
 My heart has ever dwelt with you. 
 But O! those happy day? will no'er return — 
 
 Those happy days that we have seen, 
 For I am left to weep alone, 
 
 My sweet Evangelino. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Oh ! how sad we've been, lo^^t Evangeline, 
 
 Since we laid thee where the sweetfst flowers wave, 
 
 /vnd the angels bright, robed in spotless white. 
 Are watching o'er thy green and mossy grave, 
 
 Kv:>ngeline, Evangeline, 
 She's gone to the silent grave. 
 
 I am lonely now, my dear Evangelino; 
 
 The days are long, the nights are sad and drear; 
 And how changed, alas ! each well-romembered scene, 
 
 Since you and I were sitting here. 
 Alas! you never more will smile on me. 
 
 And life is now a sad, sad dream, 
 I lived to love none else but thee, 
 
 My sweet Evangeline. 
 
 Chorus — Evangeline, etc. 
 
WILL S. HAYS SONGS AKD POEMS. 
 
 Published by permission of 0. Diteon & Co., Boaton. 
 MOLLIE, DARLING. 
 
 Won't y<5u tell me, Mollie, darling, 
 
 That you love none else but me ^ 
 For I love you, Mollie, darling — 
 
 You are all the world to mo, 
 O, tell mo, darling, that you love me, 
 
 Put your little hand in mine; 
 Take my heart, sweet Mollie, darling, 
 
 Say that you will give me thine. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Mollie, fairest, sweetest, dearest, 
 Look up, darling, tell me this. 
 
 Do you love me, Mollie, darling? 
 Let your answer be a kiss. 
 
 Stars are smiling, Mollie, darling, 
 
 Through the mystic vail of night; 
 They seem laughing, Mollie, darling, 
 
 While fair Luna hides her light. 
 O, no one listens but the flowers. 
 
 While they hang their heads in shame; 
 They are modest, Mollie, darling, 
 
 When they hear me call your name. 
 
 Chgrus — Mollie, etc. 
 
 I must leave you, Mollie, darling, 
 
 Though the parting gives me pain; 
 When the stars shine, Mollie, darling, 
 
 I will meet you here again. 
 O, good-night, Mollie; good-bye, loved one, 
 
 Happy may you ever be; 
 When you're dreaming, Mollie, darling, 
 
 Don't forget to droam of me. 
 
 Chorus— Mollie, etc. 
 
WILL S. HAYS SONGS A_ND POEMS. 
 
 Published by permission of Mrs. Emily Tripp, Louisville, Ky. 
 WANDERING REFUGEE. 
 
 Farewell, mother, homo, and friends, 
 
 We may never meet sgain ; 
 Soon 'mid strangers I must roam; 
 
 O, the partini^ gives me pain. 
 Tho' 1 wander far away, 
 
 Londy o'er life's stormy sea, 
 Who will shed one gentle tear 
 
 For a wand'ring refugee? 
 Who will shed one gentle tear 
 
 For a wand'ring refugee? 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Mother, oh, farewell ; 
 
 I must go, I'll think of thee. 
 O, mother, I must leave thee now— 
 
 I'm a wand'ring refugee. 
 
 Farewell, sunny, Southern home — 
 
 Ilome I always loved so true; 
 Oft will tear-drops dim mine eyes 
 
 When memory flies to you, 
 But the happy scenes of yore 
 
 I alas! will never see — 
 I'll be roaming far away, 
 
 A lonely, wand'ring refugee, 
 I'll be roaming far away, 
 
 A lonely, wand'ring refugee. . 
 
 Chorus — Mother, etc. 
 
WILL S. HAYS SONGS AND POEMS. 
 
 Published by permission of 0. Ditson & Co.. Boston. 
 ANGELS, MEET ME AT DE CROSS-ROADS. 
 
 Come down, Gabriel, blow yu' ho'n 
 Call me home in de airly mo'n; 
 Sen' de chariot down dis way; 
 Come and haul me home to stay, O ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Angels, meet me at de cross-roads, meet me; 
 Angels, meet me at de cross-roads, meet mo; 
 Angels, meet me at de cross-roads, meet me; 
 Don't charge a sinner any toll. 
 
 I'se lived fo' months, and I'se lived fo' years. 
 Can't git used ter my weepin' tears — 
 Lost my way on de road in sin ; 
 Wake up, angels, an' let me in, 01 
 
 Chorus — Angels, meet me, etc. 
 
 Plant my feet on do golden rocks. 
 Put my money in.de mission-box; 
 "When I git dar an' yo' hear me call, 
 Cum on, den, for dar's room fo' us all, O 
 
 Chorus — Angels, meet me, etc. 
 
 Stan' back, sinners, let me pass; 
 
 I see de lane to de house at las'; 
 
 Cum an' jine de angel ban' ; 
 
 We'll all git home in de happy Ian', O! 
 
 Chorus — Angels, meet me, etc. 
 
 Dem angels ain't got long fo' ter wait; 
 Dey's stan'in' now at de golden gate; 
 When we git dar on de todder shore, 
 We'll all go in an' dey'll shet de door, O I 
 
 Chorus — Angels, meet me, etc. 
 
WILL 6. HAYS SONGS AND POEMS. 
 
 Published by permission of 0. Ditsou & Co., Boston. 
 ONLY A FLOWER THERE. 
 
 In a graveyard, silent, lone, and drear, 
 
 Where tlie dead in their white robes sleep. 
 I saw a grave — 'twas a little one — 
 
 And a woman o'er it weep. 
 She sighed and wept like her heart would break. 
 
 As she knelt as one in prayer, 
 When she went away I looked and saw 
 
 Only a flower there. 
 
 cnoRus. 
 
 No marble slab or stately stone 
 To mark that lone grave where 
 
 A child, a mother's darling, slept — 
 Only a flower there. 
 
 The evening shadows came and dwelt 
 
 Till the twinkling stars, so bright. 
 Looked sweetly down on that grassy mound, 
 
 And they kept their watch all night; 
 And dewdrops fell like tears from the eyes 
 
 Of angels bright and fair, 
 As they looked and saw on that little grave 
 
 Only a flower there. 
 
 Chorus — No marble slab, etc. 
 
 It was all that a mother had to give, 
 
 As the tears streamed down her face; 
 It was Heaven's gift, and 'twas hers to give 
 
 To mark the sacred place. 
 God gave the child, and He made the flowers 
 
 And He'll watch with tender care; 
 He'll save the soul of the child, but leave 
 
 Only a flower there. 
 
 Chorus — No marble slab, etc. 
 
WILL S. HAYS SONGS AND POEMS. 
 
 Publisbetl by permission of 0. Ditson & Co., Boston. 
 NORA O'NEAL. 
 
 0, I'm lonely to-night, love, without you, 
 
 And I sigh for one glance of your eye, 
 For sure there's a charm, love, about you 
 
 "Whenever I know you are nigh. 
 Like ihe beam of a star when 'tis smiling, 
 
 Is the glance which your eye can't conceal, 
 And your voice is so swe'^t and beguiling 
 
 That I love you, sweet Nora O'Neal. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 0, don't think that ever I'll doubt you, 
 
 My love I will never conceal. 
 01 I'm lonely to-night, love, without you, 
 
 My darling, sweet Nora O'Neal. 
 
 01 the nightingale sings in the wildwood, 
 
 As if every note that he knew 
 Was learned from your sweet voice in childhood. 
 
 To remind me, sweet Nora, of you. 
 But I think, love, so often about you. 
 
 And you don't know how happy I feel, 
 But I'm lonely to-night, love, without you, 
 
 My darling, sweet Nora O'Neal. 
 
 Ceorus — O, don't think that ever, etc. 
 
 0! why should I weep tears of sorrow? 
 
 Or why to let hope lo.^e its place? 
 "Won't I meet you, my darling, to-morrow. 
 
 And smile on j'our beautiful face? 
 Will you meet me? O, say you will meet me. 
 
 With a kiss at the mouth of the lane, 
 And I'll promise whenever I'll greet you 
 
 That I'll never be lonely again. 
 
 CnoRUts — 0, don't think that ever, etc 
 
WILL S. hays' songs AND POEMS. 
 
 Published by permission of J. E. Ditson & Co., Philadelphia. 
 ROLL OUT, HEAVE DAT COTTON. 
 
 I hear dat bell a-ringin', I sec do captain stan'; 
 
 Boat done blowed Iht whistle, I know she's gwine ter Ian'. 
 
 I hear de mate a-callin', " Go, git out de plank; 
 
 Kush out wid dut head line, an' tie her to do bank." 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Roll out, heave dat cotton; roll out, heave dat cotton; 
 EoU out, heave dat cotton ; ain't got long ter stay. 
 
 I hear de mate a-shoutin', and seo him on do sho', 
 > " Hurry, boys, bo lively, ain't but fifty mo'. 
 A'n't got time to tarry at dis cotton pile. 
 Wo gwine ter git anuder below hero fu'ty mile." 
 
 Chorus — Eoll out, heave dat cotton, etc. 
 
 It's airly in de mo'nin', befo' wo see do sun, 
 '* lloll aboard dat cotton, an' git back in a run. 
 " Dj captain's in a hurry, I know what he means, 
 Wants ter beat dat odder boat, down ter New Orleans." 
 
 Chorus — Eoll out, heave dat cotton, etc. 
 
 We done took on dat cotton, shove out from de sho', 
 S.iil.n' down de ribber, an' lookin' out fo' mo'. 
 When you hear de whistle, an' do big hell ring, 
 Gwine ter Ian' fo' cotton, boj-s; roll out don an' sing. 
 
 Chorus — Roll out, heave dat cotton, etc. 
 
10 WILL ^. hays' songs AND POEMS. 
 
 Published by permission of 0. Ditson & Co., Boston. 
 TAKE THIS LETTER TO MY MOTHER. 
 
 Take this letter to my mother, 
 
 Far across the deep blue sea ; 
 It will fill her heart with pleasure — 
 
 She'll be glad to hear Irom me. 
 How she wept when last we parted ; 
 
 IIow her heart was filled with pain 
 "When she said, " Good-bye — God bless you — 
 
 We may never meet again." 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Take this letter to ray mother, 
 Far across the deep blue sea ; 
 
 It will fill her heart with pleasure — 
 She'll be glad to hear from me. 
 
 Take this letter to my mother ; 
 
 It will fill her heart with joy; 
 Tell her that her prayers are answered — 
 
 God protects her absent boy. 
 Tell her to be glad and cheerful, 
 
 Pray for me where'er I roam, 
 And, ere long, I'll turn my footsteps 
 
 Back toward my dear old hom<?. 
 
 Chorus — Take this letter, etc. 
 
 Take this letter to my mother ; 
 
 It is filled with words of love. 
 If on earth I'll never meet her, 
 
 Tell her that we'll meet above, 
 Where there is no hour of parting — 
 
 All is peace, and love, and joy. 
 God will bless my dear old mother 
 
 And protect her wand'ring boy. 
 
 Chorus — Take this letter, etc. 
 
WILL S. hays' songs AND POKM*-. 11 
 
 Pablisbed by permission of 0. Ditson & Co., Boston. 
 SHAMUS O'BRIEN. 
 
 O! swoct is the smile of the beautiful moon 
 
 As it peeps through the curtains of night, 
 And the voice of the nightingale singing his tune. 
 
 While the stars seem to smile with delight. 
 Old nature now lingers in blissful repose, 
 
 And tl)e sweet breath of summer ii calm, 
 While I sit and I wonder if IShamus e'er knows 
 
 How sad and unhappy I am. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 O, Shamus O'Crion, why don't you come home? 
 
 Tou don't know how happy I'll be — 
 I've but one darling wish, and that is that you'd come 
 
 And forever be happy with me. 
 
 I'll smile when you smile, and I'll weep when you weep, 
 
 And I'll give you a kiss for a kiss, 
 And all the fond vows that I've made you I'll keep — 
 
 What more can I promise than this? 
 Does the sea have such bright and such beautiful charms 
 
 That your heart will not leave it for me? 
 Oh 1 why did I let you get out of my arms 
 
 Like a bird that was caged and is Irco. 
 
 Chorus — 0, Shamus O'Brien, etc. 
 
 O, Shamus O'Brien, I'm loving you yet I 
 
 And my heart is siill trusting and kind; 
 It was you who first took it, and can you forget 
 
 That love for anothf-r you'd find ? 
 No! no! If you break it with sorrow and pain, 
 
 I'll then have my duty to do; 
 If you'll bring it to me I will mend it again, 
 
 And trust it, dear Shamus, to you. 
 
 Chorus — 0, Shamus O'Brien, etc 
 
12 WILL S. HAYS* SONGS AND fOKMS. 
 
 PnbliBhed by permission of 0. Ditaon & Co., Boston. 
 GOOD-BYE, OLD HOME. 
 
 Good-bye, old home ; sad is my heart 
 To think that forever to-night we must part. 
 Weeping, I leave thee; my heart is in pain 
 To think that I never shall see thee again. 
 Scenes of my hoyhood, forever adieu, 
 Oft will my memory wander to you, 
 And to the loved ones wherever I roam— 
 But O, I must leave thee — good-bye, old home! 
 
 CHORrs. 
 
 Home of my heart, home, sweet home, 
 , O, how I'll loye thee wherever I roam ; 
 But we must part, for the hour is nigh. 
 When weeping I'll murmur, old home, good-bya 
 
 Good-bye, old home. Out in life's sea 
 Mine eyes will grow dim with tears shed for thee; 
 I'll think of the joys of my childhood now o'er, 
 And weep when I think they will come never more. 
 I'll miss the sweet sound of the murmuring breeze, 
 As it plays with each leaf on the towering trees. 
 For I will be wandering over life's foam 
 Far from the scenes of my own happy home. 
 
 Chorus — Home of my heart, etc. 
 
 Good-bye, old home. Tears fill mine eyes — 
 
 Soon will bo severed affectionate ties; 
 
 Bound by the love of the friends I loved true, 
 
 Who sleep in their graves whom in childhood I know, 
 
 I've no one to love me, I've no one to cheer. 
 
 For all that I love in this world I leave here, 
 
 Hoping whenever life's journey is o'er 
 
 I'll find me a home on the echoless shore. 
 
 Chorus — Home of my- heart, etc. 
 
wiLi s. hats' songs and poems. 18 
 
 Published by permission of D. P. Faulds, Louisville, Ky. 
 WIFE, LITTLE ONES, AND HOME. 
 
 I am lonely as I wander 
 
 Far across the deep blue sea, 
 For I'm thinking of the loved ones 
 
 Who are all the world to me. 
 They are watching, waiting, wishing 
 
 In their hearts that I would come, 
 While I am sadly thinking of 
 
 Wife, little ones, and home. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 My poor heart's sad and lonely, 
 No matter where I roam, 
 
 I weep and wish that I could see 
 Wife, little ones, and home. 
 
 I can see the old brown cottage 
 
 In the quiet, shady nook; 
 I can hear the sweet birds singing 
 
 And the music of the brook. 
 And I hear the children's voices 
 
 In my dreams where'er I roam, 
 And I often see the picture of 
 
 Wife, little ones, and home. 
 
 CHORus-^My poor heart's sad, etc. 
 
 I have written them a letter — 
 
 It will make their hearts rejoice; 
 They will watch and wait to see me, 
 
 They will listen to my voice. 
 And to-morrow I will hasten 
 
 Back across the ocean's foam 
 To see my wife and little ones 
 
 All happy and at home. 
 
 Chorus — My poor heart's sad, etc. 
 
H WILL 8. hays' songs AND POEMS. 
 
 Published by permiBsion of 0. Dltson & Co., Boston. 
 DOWN BY THE DEEP, SAD SEA. 
 
 Down by the deep, sad sea, 
 Down where tLie sea-gulls roam, 
 I wander on the rock-bouna ^hu^e 
 
 Where stood my boyhood home, 
 But years have changed those happy scenes 
 
 That once were dear to me, 
 For all I loved in life now sleep 
 
 Down by the deep, sad sea. 
 Por all I loved in life now sleep 
 
 Down by the deep, sad sea. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 O! the sea; the sad, sad sea; 
 O! the sea; the deep blue sea, my love to thee 
 I'd give the world to live again 
 Down by the deep, sad sea. 
 
 Down by the deep, sad sea, 
 Evening shades are nigh; 
 I gaze upon its bosom soft 
 
 "With sad and tearful oye, 
 And memory takes its wayward flight 
 
 To scenes that used to be, 
 And leaves me pitting sad and lone 
 
 Down by the deep, sad sea; 
 And leaves me sitting sad and lone 
 
 Down by the deep, sad sea. 
 
 Chobus — O! the sea; the sad, sad sea, etc. 
 
 Down bv the dear, old sea. 
 Morning sweetlv smiles; 
 I see the white sails flitting 
 
 Across its breast for miles. 
 
WILL S. hays' songs AND 1»0EMS. 15 
 
 The playful white caps chase and leap 
 
 Each other in their glee. 
 O, when I die, O, let me rest 
 
 Down by the deep, sad sea. 
 O! when I die; here let me rest, 
 
 Down by the deep, sad sea. 
 
 Chorus — O! the sea; the sad, sad sea, etc. 
 
 Published by peDuission of 0. Difson & Co., Boston. 
 SUSAN JANE. 
 
 I went to see my Susan, she met mo at the door, 
 
 She told me that I needn't como to see her any more. 
 
 She fell in lovo with Rufus Andrew Jackson Payne; 
 
 I looked her in the face, and said: "Good-bye, Susan Jane." 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 O! Susan Jane I O! Susan Jane! 
 
 0! Susan, quit your fooling, and give my heart to me; 
 
 O! give me back my heart again and I will let you be. 
 
 I used to lovo you dearly, I can not lovo again, • 
 
 I'm going away to leave you now, " Good-bye, Susan Jane." 
 
 Her mouth was like a cellar, her foot was like a ham. 
 Her eyes were like an owl's at night, her voice was never calm, 
 Her hair was long and curly, she looked just like a crane, 
 I've bid farewell to all my love, "Good-bye, Susan Jane." 
 
 Chorus — ()! Susan Jane! O! Susan Jane! 
 
 O ! Susan's so deceiving, she will not do to trust, 
 
 I've threatened once to leave her, and leave her now I must. 
 
 I'll never love another girl to cause nie any pain. 
 
 I've trusted her, and all the girls are just like "Susan Jane." 
 
 Chorus — O! Susan Jane! O! Susan Jane! 
 
IQ WILL S. H.VYS' PON-G!* AXT> POEMS. 
 
 Published by permission of 0. Ditson i Co., Boston, 
 I'LL REMEMBER YOU, LOVE, IN MY PRAYERS. 
 
 "When the curtains of night are pinned back "by the stars, 
 
 And the beautiful moon leaps the skie.'^, 
 And the dcwdrops of Heaven arc kissing the rose, 
 
 It ii then that my memory flies. 
 As if on the wings of some beautiful dove, 
 
 In haste with the message it bears, 
 To bring you a kiss of affection and sny, 
 
 •' I remember you, love, in my prayers." 
 
 cnonus. 
 Go where you will, on land or at sea, 
 
 I'll share all your sorrows and cares. 
 And at night, when I kneel by my bedside and pray, 
 
 I'll remember you, love, in my prayers. 
 
 I have loved you too fondly to ever forget 
 
 The love you have spoken for me, 
 And the kiss of affection, still warm on my lips, 
 
 "When you told me how true you would be. 
 I know not if Fortune b'j fickle or friend. 
 
 Or if time on your memory wears ; 
 I know that I love you wherever you roam. 
 
 And remember you, love, in my prayers. 
 
 Chorus — Go where you will, etc. 
 
 When heavenly angels arc guarding the good, 
 
 As God has ordain'd them to do, 
 In answer to prayers I have offered to Him, 
 
 I know there is one watching you ; 
 And may its bright spirit le with you through life. 
 
 To guide you up Heaven's bright stair?, 
 And meet with the one who has loved you so true, 
 
 And remembered you, love, in his prayers. 
 
 Chorus — Go where you will, etc 
 
WILL 8. hats' songs AND POEMS. 17 
 
 Publiglicd by rcrniiesion of O. Dltson & Co., Boston. 
 
 I'M A-GWINE DOWN SOUTH. 
 
 I lived wid marster many years ago, 
 
 'Way down on de Tonibigbec ; 
 I bi.l fur' well to all do darkies den, 
 
 'Kaze de white folks got me free. 
 But I'm hungry now an' my feot am cold, 
 
 An' I tremble when de cold win' blows, 
 I'm a-gwiiie back dar whar de sun shines wa'm, 
 
 Down whar do sugar-cane grows. 
 
 CH©RUS. 
 
 I'm a-gwino, I'm n-gwino; 
 
 I'll nebber come away, I'm a-gwine dar to stay, 
 
 Down whar de sugar-cane grows. 
 
 O, I was so happy a-livin' in de lane, 
 
 But dat was a long time ago ; 
 AH day I would go an' hoe de sugar-cane. 
 
 An' at night play de ole banjo. 
 In de cabin, now, whar I used ter lib. 
 
 So happy wid my ole wife Rose, 
 She will meet me dar, an' we'll bo so glad, 
 
 Down whar de sugar-cane grows. 
 
 Chorus — I'm a-gwinc, etc. 
 
 I'll stay wid ole marster de balance o' my days, 
 
 '"Way down on de Tombigbcc. 
 Ef I git dar I will nebber leab again 
 
 Till denth comes along for me. 
 O, I'll stick to de hoe till de sun goes down. 
 
 An' I'll rise when de rooster crows. 
 • I will spen' my life wid my good ole wife 
 
 Down whar de sugar-cane grows. 
 
 Chorus — I'm a-gwine, etc. 
 
18 TTILL S. hats' songs AND POEMS. 
 
 Publisbed by permission of 0. Ditson i Co., Boston. 
 WE PARTED BY THE RIVERSIDE. 
 
 We parted by the riverside, 
 
 The moon looked down on you and me ; 
 The stars put on a look of pride, 
 
 The river murmured to the sea ; 
 The dewdrops kissed the blushing rose, 
 
 The gentle winds did sigb. 
 One word broke nature's sweet repose — 
 
 That sad word was " Good-bye 1 " 
 
 CHOEUS. 
 
 O, tell me that you love me yet, 
 For, O, the parting gives me pain. 
 
 Say, tell me that you'll not forget, 
 For we may never meet again. 
 
 "We parted by the riverside, 
 
 A tear-drop trembled on your cheek ; 
 In vain to tell my love I tried ; 
 
 My heart was sad — I could not speak- 
 I promised that I would be true, 
 
 Sj long as I would live ; 
 The parting kiss I gave to you 
 
 Was all I had to give. 
 
 CnoRrs — 0, tell me, etc. 
 
 We parted by the riverside, 
 
 And I have roamed a distant clime; 
 My heart has not forgot its pride, 
 
 For 1 have loved you all the time; 
 And I am faithful to you still, 
 
 While I believe you true — - 
 Afar or near, let come what will, 
 
 I'll love you — only you. 
 
 Chorus — O, tell me, etc. 
 
■*VILL S. hays' SOXGS AND POEMS. 19 
 
 Published by permission of George D. 5ewhall & Co., Cincinnati. 
 HANNAH, IS YOU DAR? 
 
 O. I remember, Hannah, when we lived in Louisian', 
 
 Whar I used to hoe de cotton an' de cane, 
 An' we libed in peace an' plenty on de banks of Washita 
 
 In de little old log cabin in de lane; 
 An' I nebber can forget how you looked at me an' cried. 
 
 An* you told mo not to leave you 'fo' de wah. 
 Now, I'm sorry dat I lef you — dat I ebber come away, 
 
 Kase I think of you an' wonder is you dar. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 O, Hannah, is you libin' yet? 
 
 O, Hannah, if you are, 
 Go an' git somebody fo' ter write me up a letter, 
 
 An' I'll come to you, Hannah, if you're dar. 
 
 I've often sat and wonder'd ef de cabin whar we lived 
 
 Is a standin' yet beside de rollin' stream, 
 An' dat good old dog is libin' yet dat used to follow mo 
 
 When my life was just as happy as a dream. 
 I kin see you sittin', Hannah, in de moonlight in do door; 
 
 I can hear your voice a-singin' from afar; 
 I can hear de dogs a-barkin' at de 'possum up a tree. 
 
 An' I wcv^p an' ax you, Hannah, is you dar? 
 
 Chorus — O, Hannah, etc. 
 
20 WILL s. hays' sokgs and poems. 
 
 Published by poriiiission of George D. Newball & Co., Ciucinnatl. 
 DOWN IN DE CO'N-FIEL'. 
 
 I see de black smoke roUin' high, 
 
 "Way down yonder in de co'n-fiel'; 
 Dat boat am comin' by and by, 
 
 "Way down yonder in de co'tt-fie?; 
 I heard dem engines belchin' steam, 
 She's a-comin' who(.>pin' up de stream, 
 She's gittin' warm when de whi^^tles scream, 
 "Way down yonder in de co'n-fiel'. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Den, Hannah, wake me airly in de morn ; 
 I'm a-gwine down yonder to de shuckin' ob de corn. 
 An' I'll nebber come home till I hear de dinner-horn, 
 From way down yonder in de co'n-fier. 
 
 I hoe de co'n to de end ob de row, 
 "Way down yonder in de co'n-fiel' ; 
 
 When you git to de fence den lay down your hoe. 
 Way down yonder in de co'n-fiel'. 
 
 Git on de fence an' you'll see her come; 
 
 Dem big wheels fillin' de ribber wnd foam. 
 
 It's de Baton Roucce, an' she's gwine home, 
 Way down yonder in de co'n-fiel'. 
 
 Chorus — Den, Hannah, etc. 
 
 Dem Ancbor-line boats am fast an' fine, 
 Way down yonder in de co'n-fiel'; 
 
 But Blxby's boat am de boss ob de line, 
 Way down yonder in de co'n-fiel'. 
 
 Look at de smoke and de steam she make ; 
 
 Catch all de fast boats, gib 'em de shake; 
 
 No use talkin', for she calls fo' de cake, 
 Way down yonder in de co'n-fiel'. 
 
 Chorus — Den, Hannah, etc. 
 
"WILL S. HAYS* SONGS AND POEMS. 21 
 
 Published by permission of 0, Diteon & Co., Boston. 
 BEAUTIFUL GIRL OF THE SOUTH. 
 
 Beautiful girl of the South, 
 
 Friend of my earlier days, 
 Fondly I'm thinking of thee, 
 
 Loving to sing in thy praise. 
 We have loved each other ; 
 
 Naught but death can sever 
 Hearti once bound together, 
 
 My loved one and my own. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 O, beautiful girl of the South, 
 Say art thou thinking of me, 
 
 Far in thine own sunny home, 
 Down by the murmuring sea ? 
 
 Beautiful girl of the South, 
 
 Heart that ii loving and truej 
 Face full of innocent smiles, 
 
 Eyes of a heavenly blue. 
 O, may pleasant hours, 
 
 Amid the Southern flowers, 
 So happy have been ours. 
 
 My loved one and my own. 
 
 Chorus— O, beautiful girl, etc. 
 
 Beautiful girl of the South, 
 
 Birds sing their sweetest to thee; 
 Songs of the'r own sunny clime — 
 
 Those were the sweetest to me. 
 Wouldst thou ask to prove thee ? 
 
 Smile, sweet girl, above thee, 
 Heaven knows I love thee. 
 
 My loved one and my own. 
 
 Chorus — O, beautiful girl, etc. 
 
22 WrLL S. HATS* SOKGS AND POEMS. 
 
 Published by permission of 0. Ditson & Co., Boston* 
 DRIVEN FROM HOME. 
 
 Out in this cold world, out in the street, 
 Asking a penny of each one I meet; 
 Shoeless I wander ahout through the day, 
 Wearing my young life in sorrow away. 
 No one to help me, no one to bless, 
 No one to pity me, none to caress; 
 Fatherless, motherless, sadly I roam — 
 A child of misfortune, I'm driven from home. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 No one to help me, none to bless, 
 No one to pity me, none to caress ; 
 Fatherless, motherless, sadly I roam, 
 Nursed by my poverty, driven from home. 
 
 The flowers that bloomed that I once loved to see 
 Seem bowing their heads, as if pitying me; 
 The music that mingles with voices of mirth, 
 From the windows of plenty and pleasure on earth, 
 Makes me think what it is to be friendless and poor. 
 And I feel I shall faint when I knock at the door. 
 All turn a deaf ear, for there's no one to come 
 And help a poor wanderer, driven from home. 
 
 Chorus — No one to help me, etc. 
 
 O, where shall I go, or what shall I do? 
 I've no one to tell me what course to pursue; 
 I'm weary and footsore, I'm hungry and weak; 
 I know not what shelter to-night I may seek. 
 The Friends of all friends, who rules earth and sea, 
 "Will look with a pitying eye upon me. 
 I'll wander about till His messenger come 
 To lead me to father and mother at home. 
 
 Chorus — No one to help me, etc. 
 
vriLL R. hays' songs and POEXfS. 28 
 
 PublishPd by permission of George D. Newhall & Co., Cincinnati. 
 "KEEP IN DE MIDDLE OB DE ROAD." 
 
 I hear dem angels a-callin' loud, 
 
 Keep in de middle cb de road; 
 Dey'i awaitin' dar in a great big crowd, 
 
 Keep in do middle ob de road; 
 I see dem stan' round do big white gate, 
 "We must trabblo along 'fore wo git too late, 
 Fo' 'tain't no use fo' to sit down and wait. 
 
 Keep in de middle ob de road. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Den, chil'ren, keep in de middle ob de road ; 
 Den, chil'ren, koep in de middle ob de road. 
 
 Don't you look to de right, don't you look to do lef, 
 But keep in de middle of de road. 
 
 I ain't got time fo' to stop an' talk, 
 
 Keep in de middle ob de road ; 
 'Kuse de road am rough an' it's Lard to walk, 
 
 Keep in de middle cb de road. 
 I'll fix my eyes on do golden stair, 
 An' I'll keep on a-gwino till I git dar, 
 'Kase my head am bound fo' de crown to wa'r, 
 
 Keep in de middle ob de road. 
 
 Chorus — Don, chirren, etc. 
 
 Come an' jine in de weary ban', 
 
 Keep in de middle ob de road ; 
 'Kase we bound fo' home in de happy Ian', 
 
 Keep in de middle ob de road. 
 Turn your back on dis world ob sin, 
 Knock at de door an' dey'U let you in, 
 'Kase you'll nebber git such a chance ag'in, 
 
 Keep in do middle ob de road. 
 
 Chorus — Den, chil'ren, etc. 
 
24 WILL S. HAY.-s' SONGS AXP ^OF,^f^. 
 
 Bis world am full ob sinful things, 
 
 Keep in de middle ob de road ; 
 "When de feet gits tired put on de -wings, 
 
 Keep in de middle ob de road. 
 Ef you lay down on de road to die, 
 An' you watch dem angels in de sky. 
 You kin put on wings an git up an" fly, 
 Keep in de middle ob de road. 
 
 Chorus — Den, chil'ren, etc. 
 
 Tiiblished by permission of 0. Ditson & * o., Boston. 
 
 WRITE ME A LETTER FROM HOME. 
 
 Lonely I sit me and weep, 
 
 Weep as I have not for years; 
 "Why do mine eyes fail to keep 
 
 Back these affectionate tears ? 
 I think of dear ones o'er the sea 
 
 Who love me wherever I roam, 
 O, go to them ; tell them for me, 
 
 To write me a letter from home. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Have they forgotten me now, 
 Or, do th©y expect me to come? 
 
 !No, no! Go and tell them for me, 
 To write me a letter from home. 
 
 I think of the old-fashioned cot, 
 
 I've left it for many a year. 
 The last words, " God, bless you ! " I got 
 
 From mother and father so dear. 
 They hoped that my voyage would be 
 
 A pleasant one over the foam. 
 O, some one, go teli them for me, 
 
 To write me a letter from home. 
 
 Chorus— Have they forgotten me now, etc. 
 
WILL s. hays' SOXGS A^'D PoEMS. 25 
 
 Published by permission of 0. Ditson <fe Co., Boston. 
 THE LITTLE OLD CABIN IN THE LANE. 
 
 I'm getting old an' feeble now, I can not work no more; 
 
 I've laid de rusty-bladed hoe to rest. 
 Ole massa an' ole miss' am dead, dey're sleepin' side by side, 
 
 Deir spirits now am roaming wid de blest. 
 De scene am changed about de place, de darkies am all gone ; 
 
 I'll nebber hear dom singin' in de cane, 
 And Ise de only one dat's left wid dis ole doe; of mine. 
 
 In de little ole log cabin in de lane. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 De chimney's fallin' down, and de roof is cavin* in, 
 
 I ain't got long round here to remain ; 
 But de angels watches over me when I lays down to sleep 
 
 In de little ole log cabin in de lane. 
 
 Dar was a happy time to me — 'twas many years ago ■ — 
 
 When de darkies used to gather round de door; 
 An' dey used to dance an' sing at night I played de ole banjo, 
 
 But alas! I can not play it any more. 
 De hinges dey got rusted, an' de door has tumbled down, 
 
 An" de roof lets in de sunshine an' de rain. 
 An' de only friend I've got now is dis good ole dog ob mine, 
 
 In de little ole log cabin in de lane. 
 
 Chorus — De chimney's fallin', etc. 
 
 De foot-path now is covered o'er dat led us round de hill. 
 
 An' de fences all are goin' to decay. 
 An' de creek is all dried up where we used to go to mill. 
 
 An' Time has turned its course anodder way ; 
 But I ain't got long to stay here, an' what little time I got 
 
 I'll try and be contented to remain 
 TiU death shall call my dog an' me to find a better home 
 
 Dan dat little ole log cabin in de lane. 
 
 Chorus — De chimney's fallin', etc. 
 
26 WILL s. hays' songs and poems. 
 
 Published by permission of George D. Newhall & Co , Cincianati. 
 SHE SLEEPS. 
 
 Angels, ever bright and fair, look down from the skies 
 
 On this sacred hallowed spot where my loved one lies. 
 
 Look in loving mercy down, nightly vigils keep. 
 
 While I bow and whisper low, "Sleep, my loved one, sleep; " 
 
 While I bow and whisper low, " Sleep, my loved one, sleep." 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Angels, guard her, let her sleep ; 
 Heaven reward her, let her sleep. 
 Let her soul be in thy care, 
 God is with it " over there." 
 Angels, listen to my prayer, 
 Sleep, loved one, sleep. 
 
 She I loved most, best of all, sleeps beneath the sod; 
 She was mine, save her pure soul — that belonged to God. 
 Now I look to Him and pray, then bow down and weep, 
 Only having this to say, " Sleep, my loved one, sleep; " 
 Only having this to say, " Sleep, my loved one, sleep." 
 
 Chorus — Angels, guard her, etc. 
 
 Let each star a window be for an angel face, 
 Looking down upon her grave from the Throne of Grace. 
 Let me lift my eyes to theirs while the tear-drops creep, 
 And they listen to my prayer, " Sleep, my loved one, sleep ; " 
 And they listen to my prayer, " Sleep, my loved one, sleep." 
 Chorus — Angels, guard her, etc. 
 
■WILL 8. HATS* SONGS AND POEMS. 27 
 
 Published by permission of George D. Newhall & Co., Cincinnati. 
 SWEET BIRDS SINGING. 
 
 I hear the sweet birds singing 
 
 In the twilight in the grove, 
 And the clover-blossoms tremble 
 
 'Neath the dewdrops from above, 
 I can hear the water rippling 
 
 Down the valley to the mill, 
 As I walk and watch my shadow 
 
 Down the old road 'round the hill. 
 My old home in the cabin 
 
 Is dear to mem'ry still ; 
 I will love it till I'm buried 
 
 Near the old road 'round the hill. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 I hear the sweet h'nds singing 
 In the twilight in the grove 
 
 And the clover-blossoms tremble 
 'Neath the dewdryps from above. 
 
 The cabin is a log one, 
 
 And the chimney's built of clay; 
 It is shelter'd in the shadows 
 
 Of the pine-trees night and day. 
 No gilded hall or palace, 
 
 In my heart its place can fill, 
 And I'm happy when I'm walking 
 
 Down the old road 'round the hill. 
 My old home in the cabin 
 
 Is dear to mem'ry still ; 
 I will love it till I'm buried 
 
 Near the old road 'round the hill. 
 
 Chorus — I hear the sweet birds, etc. 
 
28 WILL s. hats' songs and poems. 
 
 I have gone that road in childhood 
 
 To the school with book and slate, 
 And in coming home at evening 
 
 Drove the cows up to the gate, 
 Where I found my mother waiting, 
 
 As I whistled tunes so shrill. 
 "When she'd milk them I would start thera 
 
 Down the old road 'round the hill. 
 My old home in the cabin 
 
 Is dear to mem'ry still ; 
 I will love it till I'm buried 
 
 Near the old road 'round the hill. 
 
 Chokus — I hear the sweet birds, etc. 
 
-HlcpOEIVIS*^ 
 
 THE NEW MAGDALEN. 
 
 " Neither do I condemn thee. Go, sin no more." 
 We met and smiled, and smiled again ; 
 
 Smile greeted smile upon the street. 
 His form and face, it seemed to me, 
 
 To be my fault my fate to meet. 
 He spoke, and held my hand in his. 
 
 And pressed it; why? I could not tell. 
 I loved him, I believed him true, 
 
 I listened, and I — fell. 
 
 He spurns me now, and I have lost 
 
 All that was dear to me in life. 
 They call mo " woman of the town " — 
 
 I, who should be his faithful wife. 
 He shuns me, hates me; those I knew 
 
 Before I drank the cup of grief 
 Abhor me now, but smile upon 
 
 The coward and the thief. 
 
 He lives, and moves in circles where 
 
 They seem with pride to call his name; 
 But all the wealth the world commands 
 
 Can never free his soul from shame. 
 He said he loved me, and it was 
 
 The happiest moment of my life; 
 But now I'm scorned, because I'm called 
 
 His woman — not his wife. 
 
 He wronged me, and this little child 
 
 I fold so loving to my breast. 
 May never live to know the shame. 
 
 He knows 'tis his, God knows the rest. 
 29 
 
30 "WILL s. hats' songs and poems. 
 
 Though he should live a hundred ycar^, 
 And roam about, I do not care, 
 
 On land or sea, 'wake or asleep, 
 Guilt follows everywhere. 
 
 O, woman, woman ! "Why thus hate 
 
 One of your sex? Why not implore 
 The God of mercy to forgive? 
 
 Did He not say, " Go, sin no more? " 
 'Tis woman's hate to womankind 
 
 That makes our lives a wretched span ; 
 Since you will scorn a woman so, 
 
 O, why forgive a man ? 
 
 I dare not go into your church. 
 
 And kneel with you in solemn prater. 
 And ask God's pardon for my sin, 
 
 For you would scorn me out of there. 
 But if the thief of virtue sat 
 
 Beside his sister, I've no doubt 
 He would be first to leave his pew 
 
 To come and lead me out. 
 
 'Tis human nature oft to err, 
 
 And sweet forgiveness is divine; 
 But Where's the Christian woman who 
 
 Would speak to troubled hearts like mine? 
 Who comes to talk of Christian love 
 
 To one whose heart and soul's defiled? 
 Not one among you. God forgive 
 
 A mother and her child. 
 
 Ye angels, holy, pure, and good, 
 Go to our Father — He yet lives — 
 
 And tell Him not to scorn me, too. 
 Though women hate me, He forgives. 
 
 Teach, O, teach them to forgive! 
 And let His spirit with them dwell. 
 
 That they may show lost souls the way 
 
WILL S. hays' songs AND POEMS. 31 
 
 HIS LAST TRIP. 
 
 The following lines were written in respect to the memory of 
 the late Capt. J. M. WHITE, who for many years commanded 
 steamers in the Vicksburg and New Orleans trade. One of the 
 distinguishing traits in his nautical career was, that, no matter liow 
 turbulent the river, he never failed to respond to a hail from shore : 
 
 " Mate, get ready down on deck, 
 I'm heading for the shore, 
 I'll ring the bell ; for I must land 
 This boat, forevermore. 
 
 "Say, pilot, can you see that light — 
 I do — where angels stand? 
 "Well, hold her jackstaff hard on that, 
 For there I'm going to land. 
 
 ''That looks like Death a-hailing me; 
 So ghastly grim and pale; 
 I'll toll the bell — I must go in ; 
 I never passed a hail. 
 
 "Stop her. Let her come in slow ; 
 There! That will do — no more. 
 The lines are fast, and angels wait 
 To welcome me ashore. 
 
 "Say, pilot, I am going with them 
 Up yonder through that gate ; 
 I'll not come back — you ring the bell 
 And back her out — don't wait. 
 
 "For I have made the trip of life, 
 And found my landing place; 
 I'll take my soul and anchor that 
 Fast to the Throne of Grace." 
 
32 WILL 8. hays' songs and poems. 
 
 TO W. C. HALL, Esq. 
 
 Old friend, corae put your hand in mine, 
 
 And we'll be friends together ; 
 Let's cast aside the storms of life 
 
 And have some pleasant weather. 
 I'll be the one to lift the clouds 
 
 Across your pathway driven, 
 And let the sunshine smile on you 
 
 From out the gates of Heaven. 
 
 As you and Age together walk 
 
 Down through this world of ours. 
 Old friend, let Age pick out the thorns 
 
 And you walk on the flowers ; 
 And when you reach the river bank. 
 
 No more in life a rover, 
 Just tell the angels who you are, 
 
 And they will take you over. 
 
 TO CAPT. BOB REILLY. 
 
 "When nature mixed her pot of clay 
 
 She tried the good old plan 
 Of using such material 
 
 As makes an honest man ; 
 And when her handiwork was done, 
 
 She gave her work a view. 
 And smiled upon it as she said : 
 
 " There, Bob, I think you'll do." 
 
"WILL s. iaAYs^ isokqs and poems. 33 
 
 THE DIRTY-FACED BRAT. 
 
 "Please, let me scrape off the snow from your walk? " 
 " No I Get outl You dirty-faced brat ! " 
 And he went with a curl sticking out through a hole 
 
 In the top of his little torn hat ; 
 But he turned once and said, with a tear in his eye, 
 " Please, mister, my mother is poor." 
 " I told you once, no ! Take your shovel and go, 
 And don't you come back any morel " 
 
 His jacket was threadbare, his thin breeches patched, 
 
 And his boots were too large for his feet. 
 As he shivered and stood in the falling snow, 
 
 And the cold, bitter winds in the street. 
 His face was a picture of hunger and want, 
 
 And his heart was a stranger to joy. 
 He looked, as he wiped his brown eyes with his sleeve. 
 
 Like the wreck of a beautiful boy. 
 
 Sweet charity coaxed him to try it again, 
 
 And, urged by the voice of distress, 
 He picked up his shovel and wandered along 
 
 Through the snow with a hope of success. 
 He felt in his brave little heart that some friend 
 
 Would aid him because he was poor. 
 That night he went home, made his mother's heart glad 
 
 By driving the wolf from the door. 
 
 He told his poor mother how he had gone in 
 
 And asked to scrape snow from the door, 
 But the gentleman (?) called him " a dirty-faced brat," 
 
 And ordered him out of his store; 
 How he walked down the street and was hailed by the voice 
 
 Of a little girl wanting to know 
 If he'd wait there a minute. " Little boy," mamma says, 
 
 " Won't vou come in and shovel the snow? " 
 
S4 WILL s. hays' songs and poems. 
 
 " God bless the good lady I " that poor mother said 
 
 " She's an angel on earth in disguise." 
 As the little hoy knelt hy his hedside in prayer 
 
 She watched him with tears in her eyes. 
 They were tears of affection and love for her child — 
 
 Tears from her bosom of joy — 
 Tears, proof to God that a mother had raised 
 
 A Christian and dutiful boy. 
 
 That boy is no longer a boy, but a man, 
 
 And his poor mother died years ago ; 
 But his beautiful wife is the sweet little girl 
 
 Who asked him to shovel the snow. 
 And he's now taking care of the wreck of a man 
 
 In his home who's as blind as a bat, 
 And who never will know that his friend shoveled snow, 
 
 Or was ever a " dirty-faced brat," 
 
 THE " COON'S " PARTY. 
 
 De dance wuz gwine on all right, 
 
 De wedder turn ter freezin' — 
 Sum darkey frowed snuff on de stove 
 
 An' sot 'em all ter sneezin'. 
 De "coons" got tight an' had er fight, 
 
 Sumbody hit Jim Riddle, 
 An' ole Miss Smoot hit some galoot 
 
 "Wid Perry Wilkins' fiddle. 
 
 De cops put Hiram Jones in jail, 
 
 Along with Pete McCarty ; 
 De Jedge he belt 'em bofe ter bail 
 
 Fo' snuffin' dat ar party. 
 Bofe oh 'em sw'ar dey wuzzent dar, 
 
 An' got hot in de collars ; 
 Dey drap dar head, like dey wuz dead, 
 
 "W'en Justice sed, " Po' dollahs." 
 
WILL S. hays' songs AND POEMS. 36 
 
 WASH GRAY. 
 
 Say, stranger, did you know Wash — 
 
 Wash Gray, of the towboat Fred ? — 
 The Wilson, I mean. O, you did ? 
 
 Wal', don't be surprised — he's dead. 
 Yes, sir! Wash Gray hez gone home; 
 
 He won't run the Fred any more, 
 For he's gone with the angels ter live 
 
 Over thar on the beautiful shore. 
 Ive knowed Wash a good many years, 
 
 An' I'm sorry that he couldn't stay, 
 For the longer yer knowed him, you bet. 
 
 The better you'd like Wash Gray. 
 In the pilot-house, out on the roof — 
 
 Or catch him about on the shore. 
 He wuz allers the same jolly Wash ; 
 
 But he's gone now — we'll see him no more. 
 Say, stranger, I know I'm a man ; 
 
 You'll excuse me for weepin' these tears. 
 For they'll come anyhow to my cheeks. 
 
 I liked Wash, I've knowed him for years. 
 The last time I seed him in life 
 
 He bid me good-bye on the Fred, 
 An' the next thing I hearn was the news 
 
 That he was no more — he was dead. 
 It went to my heart like a stab, 
 
 I felt like a man goin' wild; 
 But, stranger, I swa'r, I give in. 
 
 An' sot down an' wep' like er child. 
 God bless him ! I hope that his soul 
 
 Hez crep' out from under the sod 
 An' gone through the beautiful gates 
 
 That leads up to Heaven an' God. 
 Why, stranger, thar'a tears in yer eyes ; 
 
 Did I work up yer feelin's — say, 
 I didn't ? Wal, I'm glad, sir, ter know, 
 
 Like me, that you weep for Wash Gray. 
 
36 WILL s. hays' isonqs and poems. 
 
 I LOVE YOU. 
 
 LINES TO MARY. 
 
 I look into the world of space, 
 And see each starry, smiling face 
 Shine forth so beautiful and bright 
 Down through the curtains of the night. 
 My memory flies, sweet girl, to you, 
 For I believe you love me true. 
 And my fond heart is faithful still. 
 Ah ! well, you know it ever will 
 Be true as yonder stars above you, 
 That watch me while I say, "I love you." 
 
 I hear the dead leaves 'neath the trees, 
 
 "While dancing in the cheerless breeze, 
 
 Make music on the midnight air 
 
 As solemn as the lips of prayer. 
 
 I see the pale moon mounted high, 
 
 And gold-tinged clouds float through the sky. 
 
 The world, bathed in its mellow light, 
 
 Makes nature beautiful to-night. 
 
 But there's one star that shines above you — 
 
 I gaze at it and swear, "I love you." 
 
 Sweet be your dreams, where'er you be, 
 And may each dream be sweet of me. 
 0! If I had an angel's wings— 
 The fairest one in Heaven that sings — 
 I'd hunt you, find you, linger near, . 
 And sing such sweet songs in your ear. 
 That you would wake from dreams of bliss. 
 And wonder if some soft, sweet kiss 
 Had not been given by one above you, 
 "Who whispered sweet and low, "I love you." 
 
WILL S. hays' songs AND POEMS. 87 
 
 TO DAVY S. GREEN. 
 
 When nature made her choicest clay 
 She put her proudest robes upon her, 
 
 And made a man that men might say: 
 " There is a man the soul of honor." 
 
 "When done, she threw her mantle down, 
 With noble thoughts did she inspire him 
 
 That men might say : " To know the man 
 Is but to honor and admire him," 
 
 I bless sweet nature for the gift 
 
 Of such a friend — you've been a brother; 
 I trust, dear Davy, you and me 
 
 Long as we live will love each other. 
 
 A FIGHT WITH THE FLOOD. 
 
 'Twas a dark, stormy night, and the rescuing boat 
 
 Went to a house in the flood and afloat; 
 
 When the bow struck the porch, the men dropped their oars 
 
 And tried to get in through the windows and doors. 
 
 Upstairs was a light from a flickering fire; 
 
 The waves and the water climbed higher and higher, 
 
 As if they endeavored to take turn about. 
 
 In seeing which first put the fire all out. 
 
 "Hello! " cried the voice of the life-saving man, 
 
 " There is no one about," shouted Captain Devan ; 
 
 And he shouted, " Let go! Come, man your oars, boys." 
 
 "Hold on; wait a second. Did you hear a noise?" 
 
 The men said they did, and they tied the lifeboat 
 
 To the rickety porch of the old house afloat. 
 
 " Hello !" said the captain, again and again. 
 
 He listened to hear a response, but in vain, 
 
38 WILL s. hays' songs and poems. 
 
 Until presently — seeing a little brown head 
 
 Approaching a window, the childish voice said, 
 
 " Don't holler so loud, for my grandma is sick." 
 
 And the captain said, " Boys, you must get up there, quick." 
 
 And they climbed up a column, went in at a door. 
 
 And saw an old lady asleep on the floor; 
 
 And close by her side there a little boy sat. 
 
 Wiping tears from his cheeks with a piece of a hat; 
 
 And, looking up then, with a tear in each eye. 
 
 Said: "Say, do you think that she's going to die? " 
 
 O, nol " said the men, " for we'll take her away ; 
 
 The flood may upset this old house before day. 
 
 Is there no one else here in the house but you two? 
 
 Get ready to go then — the lady and you — 
 
 For the river is rising, the house is afloat." 
 
 They then put the lady and boy in the boat 
 
 And pulled for the shore, where hearts full of joy 
 
 Received the poor woman and that little boy. 
 
 The doctor remarked, as he started away, 
 " 1 think that the lady's much better to day, 
 And I'm satisfied now that she's going to get well." 
 • And a tear on the cheek of that little boy fell 
 As he cautiously moved to the head of the bed, 
 And kissed the thin lips of the woman, and said. 
 As he looked up and smiled: " O ! how happy I'll be ! 
 For there's nobody left but my grandma and me." 
 *»*****♦ 
 In the darkness of night you could hear from the shore 
 The regular click of the life-savers' oar, 
 And the noise made a sound like a quickening thud 
 As their boat rode the waves of the terrible flood. 
 'Twas an hour of peril — a moment of strife — 
 A fight with the flood and a battle for life. 
 
■WILL S. hays' songs AND POEMS. 39 
 
 DICK AND ANNIE. 
 
 'Twas at Crab Orchard, when the birds 
 
 One summer eve were singing, 
 The pretty children on the lawn 
 
 "Were romping — some were swinging, 
 And some were playing "I spy you;" 
 
 I noticed 'mong the many, 
 No two were having such a romp 
 
 As little Dick and Annie. 
 
 I watched them as they'd chase and dodge 
 
 Each other in their laughter; 
 Sweet Annie, with her golden hair. 
 
 And Dick a-running after. 
 She ran and hid behind a bush. 
 
 And soon as Dick had missed her. 
 He looked me in the face and said, 
 
 " Say, has you seen my sister ? " 
 
 "You can't find me," sweet Annie said, 
 
 In vain he tried to find her; 
 She rose and started on a run. 
 
 And Dick was close behind her. 
 She tripped and fell upon the grass. 
 
 And Dick then caught his sister ; 
 She tossed her playful curls aside, 
 
 And laughing loud, he kissed her. 
 
 *Twas childhood's kiss — the kiss of joy — 
 
 The sweetest kiss of many. 
 A kiss of love from brother Dick 
 
 To little sister Annie. 
 I couldn't help but smile and think, 
 
 The moment that he kissed her, 
 When Dick grew up he'd rather kiss 
 
 Some other fellow's sister. 
 
40 WILL S. UA.YS' SOKGS AND POEMS. 
 
 THE DEAD ROSE. 
 
 With stately step she moved along, 
 Amid the gay and happy throng; 
 And on her breast, in sweet repose, 
 I saw a lovely withered rose. 
 
 With gentle hand she softly pressed 
 That dying rose close to her breast. 
 She tried to force it to remain, 
 And bring it back to life again. 
 
 She gazed upon each drooping leaf, 
 And bathed its face in tears of grief. 
 She felt a sorrow in her heart 
 To think so soon they'd have to part. 
 
 Alone she walked into the night, 
 And left the ball-room's dazzling sight. 
 " O, live, sweet little rose," sighed she, 
 " If not for him, O, live for me." 
 
 She took the precious little gem 
 From off her bosom — held the stem. 
 And watched its face with tearful eye 
 Until she saw it droop and die. 
 
 Alone she stood and bowed her head 
 And wept and sighed, then sadly said : 
 " I wonder if his love — God knows — 
 Will ever perish like his rose." 
 
 Then to her lips, in sad, sweet bliss, 
 She pressed it with a loving kiss ; 
 But ah ! its life and fragrance fled. 
 And, like her lover's love — 'twas dead. 
 
WILL S. hays' songs AND POEMS. 41 
 
 THE EMPTY STOCKING. 
 
 This little boy hung his stocking up, 
 
 And his weeping mother said : 
 " My child, come kiss me, sweet, good-night, 
 
 Then go to your lonely bed." 
 The little boy kissed his mother's lips, 
 
 And then lay down to sleep, 
 But the mother sat by the cheerless fire 
 
 The long, lone hours to weep. 
 The old town clock struck twelve — then one; 
 
 'Twas a sad and lonely sight 
 To see that widow and hear her sigli 
 
 Through the long and dreary night. 
 "One year ago — he was with us then. 
 
 And our hearts were filled with joy; 
 Our home was happy, he and I, 
 
 And our darling baby boy. 
 That one is gone— the father, friend; 
 
 My husband — he is dead." 
 She looked at the empty stocking, 
 
 Then at the boy in bed. 
 The town clock tolled the hour of two. 
 
 There was not a single spark 
 Of fire left in that cheerless grate, 
 
 And the room was cold and dark. 
 She groped her way till she found the bed, 
 
 And knelt down then and there, 
 And, with broken heart and trembling lips. 
 
 She breathed to God her prayer : 
 " O, God ! the pleasures of our home 
 
 Are known to us no more. 
 For ever since my husband died 
 
 The wolf has watched the door." 
 
 ******** 
 
 She slept, but the baby boy arose, 
 
 And his heart beat with delight, 
 For he rushed up to the mantel-piece, 
 
42 WILL s. hays' soxgs and poems. 
 
 And his little stocking white 
 Was empty. There he stood and looked 
 
 Until his mother woke, 
 And it nearly crushed her saddened heart 
 
 When the little fellow spoke: 
 " Mamma, Kris Kringle never come 
 
 Last night like he did before, 
 For my little stocking is empty yet — 
 
 Do you think it's 'cause we're poor ? " 
 
 OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 TO CAPTAIN JACK WILLIAMS. 
 
 We twa ha'e been gude, honest friends, 
 
 Fu' mony a year thegither, 
 An' I ha's always lo'ed ye, Jack, 
 
 Just like a m'on an' brither. 
 We've seen life's winters come an' ga'e, 
 
 An' simmers bring their flowers, 
 The seasons ha'e their changes, Jack, 
 
 But hearts don't change like ours. 
 
 'Twas lang before auld age came on, 
 
 And looked into our faces. 
 And with his creeping fingers put 
 
 These lines upon our faces. 
 When first w^e met, the bloom o' youth 
 
 Upon our faces lingered, 
 But youth has gone, an' Time an' Age 
 
 Ha'e left their imprints fingered. 
 
 Our faces. Jack, ha'e changed somewhat, 
 
 Our forms begin tae tremble. 
 Our hair is putting on its frost, 
 
 Our legs are ne'er sae nimble. 
 We are nae wha' we used to be ; 
 
 We ne'er will be— nae, never! 
 Our faces, forms, an' hair may change, 
 
 But hearts the same forever. 
 
WILL S. hays' songs AND POEMS. 4o 
 
 "VVe gi'e the auld years for the new, 
 
 Nor look for joy nor sorrow, 
 We live as gude auld friends to-day, 
 
 An' think nae of to-morrow. 
 We'll hope tha' we maun live tae see 
 
 Life's joys beyond a measure, 
 Our future maun be as the past, 
 
 Gude health, gude will, an' pleasure. 
 
 Auld friend, come put your ban' in mine. 
 
 We'll fandly luve each ither ; 
 We'll go on down the hill o' life, 
 
 As we ha'e come — thegither. 
 We'll go the same auld beaten path, 
 
 As men ha'e gane before us, 
 An' hope the angels gude an' kind 
 
 Will guide us an' watch o'er us. 
 
 GO, LITTLE ROSE. 
 
 I held a trembling, blushing rose. 
 
 And gave it one sweet, tender kiss. 
 And, as I smiled upon its face, 
 
 I said: "What shall I do with this?" 
 I thought of her I fondly loved, 
 
 And from my reveries I whirled 
 In time to meet the smiles of one — 
 
 The sweetest girl in all the world. 
 
 Go, little rose, to one I love 
 
 And let her eyes smile on your face, 
 For on her virtuous bosom you 
 
 Will find a welcome resting-place. 
 And every time she smiles on yon. 
 
 How happy in her heart she'll be 
 To see your upturned face to hers — 
 
 Beminding her to think of me. 
 
44 WILL s. hays' songs and poems. 
 
 But ere I part with you, sweet rose, 
 
 O, let my lips to you be pressed. 
 That I may send a kiss of love 
 
 By you to her whom I love best. 
 Go, nature's voiceless, beauteous gem, 
 
 Of tender life, yet fresh and fair, 
 Rest on her bosom 'neath her smiles — 
 
 'Twere sweet to live, then perish there. 
 
 THE FAITHFUL ENGINEER. 
 
 Life is like a crooked railroad, 
 
 And the engineer is brave. 
 Who can make a trip successful 
 
 From the cradle to the grave. 
 There are stations all along it, 
 
 Where at almost any breath 
 You'll be " flagged " to stop your engine 
 
 By the messenger of death. 
 You may run the grades of trouble. 
 
 Many days and years of ease, 
 But time may have you side-tracked 
 
 By the switchman of disease. 
 You may cross the bridge of manhood, 
 
 Run the tunnel dark of strife. 
 Having God for your conductor 
 
 On the lightning train of life. 
 Always mindful of instructions, 
 
 Watchful duty never lack ; 
 Keep your hand upon the throttle 
 
 And your eye upon the track. 
 
 Name your engine "True Religion." 
 When you're running day or night. 
 
 Use the coal of Faith for fuel. 
 And she'll always run you right. 
 
 You need never fear of sticking 
 
WILL S. hays' SOKGS AKD POEMS. 45 
 
 On the up-grades 'long the road ; 
 If you've got Hope for a fireman 
 
 You can always pull the load. 
 You will often find obstructions 
 
 By the cunning devil lain, 
 On a hill, or curve, or trestle, 
 
 Where he'll try to "ditch your train." 
 But you needn't fear disaster; 
 
 " Jerk her open 1 Let her go ! " 
 For the General Superintendent 
 
 All his plans will overthrow. 
 Put your trust in God, and fear not 
 
 Keep a-going, don't look back; 
 Keep your hand upon the throttle 
 
 And your eye upon the track. 
 
 "When you've made the trip successful, 
 
 And you're at your journey's end, 
 You will find the angels waiting 
 
 To receive you as a friend. 
 You'll approach the Superintendent, 
 
 Who is waiting for you now, 
 With a word of proud promotion 
 
 And a crown to deck your brow. 
 Never falter in your duty ; 
 
 Put your faith and trust in Him, 
 And you'll always find your engine 
 
 In the best of running trim. 
 Ring your bell and blow your whistle; 
 
 Kever let your courage slack ; 
 
 Keep your hand upon the throttle 
 
 And your eye upon the tra-^k. 
 
46 WILL S. hays' SO>fGS AND POEMS. 
 
 THE TALE OF A MULE. 
 
 Say, Jim, did you know Mose — Mose Adams ? — dat's his title. 
 
 He was a roustabout an' deck-han' on de Lytle. 
 
 Dey called him " big-moufed Pete" — well, he's dun quit de river; 
 
 Dey's put him 'way ter sleep an' used de earf for kiver. 
 
 Wat killed him ? "Well, yer see, dey landed tudder night, 
 
 An' Owen — dat's de mate — say, Jim, dat man '11 fight. 
 
 "Well, he saunt Pete ashore, an' cussed him fo' er fool, 
 
 An' hollered ter de boys ter " cum on wid dat mule." 
 
 De deck-han's got aroun', de mule begin ter prank, 
 
 Jim, you've seed sum mules dat 'oodent walk er plank? 
 
 "Well, dis wur one o' dem, he kinder had his fears, 
 
 I knowed he wouldn't cum soon's he sot his ears. 
 
 But Owen cussed an' howled, an' called dem darkeys fools, 
 
 An' scd dar wuz enuff ter eat a dozen mules. 
 
 Dis kinder made 'em mad, dey closed in on him den — 
 
 Dat mule begin ter shake among so many men. 
 
 Dey grab him by de ears, an' kep' a hollerin', " "Whoa-up ! " 
 
 Den Owen he yelled out, " You go an' fetch a rope." 
 
 Dey put dat 'roun' his neck, dey bruised him up wid bricks; 
 
 Dey punched him in de ribs an' beat him up wid sticks. 
 
 He plant hisse'f right dar. De job wor gwine ter fail, 
 
 Wen Owen give a yell, " Say, Pete, you twis' his tail." 
 
 Den Pete he grab de tail an' commence twis'in' dat ; 
 
 De mule he look aroun' ter see whar Pete wuz at. 
 
 " Now, altogether, boys," was all dat Owen said — ■ 
 
 Dat mule got loose sumhow, dey pick up Pete stone dead. 
 
 Too dead ter skin dey foun' his body on de bank. 
 
 Dey carried him aboard laid out on top a plank ; 
 
 De boat den lef ' — no mule. I hearn de cap'n say, 
 
 Dat " mules wuz hell ter kick, an' allers full of play." 
 
 Jim, de reazon dat de ark went out widout a mule 
 
 Was not bekaze de beasts had fill de boat too full, 
 
 But 'kaze dey couldn't find, de day she sot her sail, 
 
 A nigger deck-han' in de gang wid grit ter twis' his tail. 
 
 So Koah he shove off an' lef out in de cool 
 
 Ter take care ob deyselves de nigger an' de mule; 
 
WILL S hays' songs AND POEMS. 47 
 
 n', Jim, hit am de fac', Pete nebbcr 'd kicked de pail, 
 
 n' been er deck-ban' yit, ef he hadn't twis' dat tail. 
 
 11 dat I eber learned wiiz w'cn I went ter school, 
 
 n' dat wuz dis: Don't trus' a mudder-in-law or mule — 
 
 ey'll take a coaxin' kind as long ez dey is calm, 
 
 ut w'en dey takes er stubbo'n fit dey don't drive wuf er — well. 
 
 TO MARY. 
 
 You alone, my friend of friends, 
 I will love until life ends. 
 I'll be faithful, I'll be true. 
 For my heart belongs to you. 
 You may cause my heart to break, 
 But it never will forsake 
 Love now locked within its doors, 
 There for lifetime — it is yours. 
 Crush it, break it, if you will. 
 Love will linger with it still. 
 
 Tell me have I not been true 
 In my promises to you ? 
 Have I broken any vow? 
 I have loved you — love you noiVf 
 And no sweeter life I crave 
 Than to go down to my grave 
 Loving such a girl as you, 
 Still believing you are true. 
 But, if I'm deceived in this, 
 Ignorance will prove a bliss. 
 
 If your love should turn to hate, 
 And to love you be my fate, 
 You take back the heart you gave, 
 I'll take mine down to the grave. 
 When, together, we shall sleep. 
 Bow your head o'er us and weep 
 Tears of anguish, grief, and pain 
 O'er the life and love you've slain ; 
 Then, while kneeling on the sod, 
 Ask forgiveness of your God 
 
48 WILL s. Hays' songs and roEMs. 
 
 GOOD-NIGHT. 
 
 TO BLANCHE. 
 
 The golden eye of day, whose rosy light 
 
 Hath smiled upon us from tlie world of space, 
 
 Now wraps its sparkling robes around it tight, 
 As if to seek some secret hiding-place. 
 
 And ere that eye hath closed in blissful rest, 
 
 In all its beauty nature to adorn, 
 It socks the quiet bosom of the West 
 
 To be more lovely on the coming morn. 
 
 The little stars all day have been asleep, 
 
 Now ope their eyes and shoot their happy smiles, 
 
 And from their pretty faces soft beams creep 
 To chase the merry clouds for miles and miles. 
 
 Tlie veil of Heaven in splendor is unfurled, 
 And every star that looks from yonder skies 
 
 Seems as a face which, in the better world, 
 Invites us now to upward lift our eyes. 
 
 The pale-faced moon now mounts the world of space 
 
 Her weary flight already has begun, 
 And, like some charger eager for a race, 
 
 She starts to overtake the fleeing sun. 
 
 To them and thee, thou friend of friends, good-night. 
 
 May all the orbs of Heaven upon thee shine; 
 And may the angels, robed in spotless white, 
 
 Watch o'er that fair and faultless form of thine, 
 
 And in thy every dream — sweet may they be! — 
 Should they on thy sweet love each bring a claim, 
 
 0, tell them, Blanche, thy love belongs to me; 
 And they'll to Heaven — but keep thou my name. 
 
 Fair Blanche ! Once more, sweet girl, I'll say, adieu ! 
 The windows of heart let in love's light, 
 [-And ere I close them up, as I must do, 
 rv. ^ Let me but kiss thee, Blanche, once more. " Good-night ! 
 
 i\ 5 39 . 
 

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 MAY 69 
 
 N. MANCHESTER, 
 INDIANA