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COMPOSED BY HENRY O. UPTON,
And sung with unbounded applause, by the Howarp Brrurseve
Orrra Trourn, of Salem.
Pree e — ——
We're all going home,
» Back to the old plantation,
There mid the flowers,
Where we love to stray.
You ne’er can find
A place in all creation,
So dear as the home
Where we darkies used to play.
To Alabama shore;
We'll sing to you and bid adieu,
Youll see us here no more.
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"Tl was by the river's side,
We met and sung together,
The songs which we darkies
Are singing here to-night ;
And lovely Rosa Clyde,
Came dancing like a feather,—
Her presence in this happy band,
Made our spirits light.
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We're all going home,
Back to Alabama,
And sing again for master
‘The songs we sung before.
We'll meet with Rosa Clyde,
She is the darky charmer ;
But now we ll bid you all adieu,
You ‘Il see us here no more.
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Printed by J. H. Moreland, Job Printer, 235 Essex Street, Salem.
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We give below the words of “Annie Laurie,”? now the most
popular Ballad in the British Camp. It was sung by
the second battalion of the Rifle Brigade the
night prior to the attack on the Great
Redan. A correspondent who. was
present on the occasion,
writes :—
“ Hundreds of voices,in the most exact time and harmony, sang together.
——_—_~e-—_—__—_——
Maxwelton Braes are bonnie,
Where early fa’s the dew,
And it’s there that Annie Laurie
Gie’d me her promise true ;
Gie’d me her promise true,
Which ne’er forgot will be ;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I’d lay me doune and dee.
Her brow is like the snaw drift—
Her throat is like the swan,
Her face it is the fairest
_ That e’er the sun shone on—
That e’er the sun shone on—
And dark blue is her e’e :
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doune and dee.
Like dew on the gowan lying,
Is the fa’ 0’ her fairy feet,
And like the winds in summer sighing
Her voice is low and sweet.
Her voice is low and sweet,
And she’s a’ the world to me ;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
Td lay me doun and dee.
a Andrews, Printer, 38 Chatham St, W. Y., Dealer in Songs, Games @
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MAXWELTON braes are bonnie,
Where early falls the dew,
And its there that Annie Laurie
Gave me her promise true;
Gave me her promise true,
Which ne’er forgot will be;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
Td lay me down and die.
Her brow is hke the snow drift—
Her throat is like the swan;
Her face it is the fairest
That e’er the sun shone on—
That e’er the sun shone on—
And dark blue is her eye:
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me down and die.
Like dew on the gowan lying,
Is the fall of her fairy feet,
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And like the winds in summer sighing
Her voice is low and sweet,
Her voice is low and sweet.
And she’s all the world to me;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
Id lay me down and die.
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Every description of Printing done at low prices, by
J. H. MORELAND, BOOK, CARD AND JOB PRINTER,
No. 235 ESSEX STREET, Salem, Mass.
tics Orders by Mail or otherwise will receive prompt attention, and all work
warranted satisfactory, or no pay required.
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Prices very low for cash.
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Down where the waving willows,
’Neath the sunbeams shine ;
Shadowed o’er the murm’ring waters,
Dwelt sweet Annie Lisle ;
Pure ag the forest lilly,
Never thought of guile,
Had its home within the bosom
Of loved Annie Lisle.
Croxus— Wave willows, murmur waters,
Golden sunbeams smile ;
Earthly music cannot waken,
Lovely Annie Lisle,
Sweet came the hallowed chiming,
Of the Sabbath bell,
Borne on the morning breezes
Down the woody dell.
On a bed of pain and anguish,
Lay dear Annie Lisle ;
Changed were the lovely features,
Gone the happy smile.
7
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Cuornus. Wave willows, &e.,
Toll bells of Sabbath morning,
T shall never more
Hear your sweet and holy music,
On this earthly shore.
Forms clad in heav’uly beauty,
Look on me and smile,
Waiting for the longing spirit
Of your Annie Lisle.
Cuorus. Wave willows, &e.,
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Raise me in your arms, dear Mother,
Let me once more look,
On the green and waving willows,
And the flowing brook ;
Hark, those strains of angel music
From the choirs above;
Dearest Mother, I am going,
Truly, ‘God is love.”
4 * Cuorus. Wave willows, &c.,
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As Sux By Tue Ceresratep Texorn CHARLES MELVILEE. _
Tne music of this beautiful ballad can be obtained aut the Musis
Store of HORACE WATERS, 833 Broadway. N. ¥. :
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,
Down where the waving willows
’Neath the sunbeams smile :
Shadowed o’er the murm’ring waters,
Dwelt sweet Annie Lisle ;
Pure as the forest lily,
Never thought of guile
Had its home within the bosom
Of loved Annie Lisle.
CHorus: Wave willows, murmur waters,
Golden sunbeams smile ;
Earthly music cannot waken
Lovely Annie Lisle.
®
Sweet came the hallowed chiming
Of the Sabbath bell,
Borne on the morning breezes
D the woody dell.
a bed of pain and anguish
y dear Annie Lisle;
d were the lovely features,
one the happy smile.
Chorus : Wave willows, &c.
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Toll bells of Sabbath morning,
I shall never more
Hear your sweet and holy musis,
On this earthly shore.
Forms clad in heav’nly beauty
Look ‘on me and smile ;
Waiting for the longing spirit
Of your Annie Lisle.
Chorus: Wave willows, &c.
Raise me in your arms, dear Mother,
Let me once more look
On the green and waving willows,
re And the Flowing brook :
Hark, those strains of angel muste
From the choirs above ;
Dearest Mother, I am going,
Truly : ‘‘ God is love. ’”*
Chorus : Wave willows, murmur waters,
Golden sunbeams smile 3
Earthly music cannot waken
Lovely Annie Lisle,
”
H, DE MARSAM, Publisher,
Songs, ballads, toy books, &¢,
34 Chatham Streot, N. Y.
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Words by G. P. MORRIS. —- Music by J. R. THOMAS.
The music to be had at Firth, Pond & Co. 547 Broadway,
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The young stars are glowing,
Their clear light bestowing %
Their radiance fills the calm, clear Summer night |
Come forth, like a fairy,
So blithesome and airy, —
And ramble in their soft and mystic light !
Cuorus : Come, come, come, luve, come !
Come, ere the night-torches pale !
Oh come, in thy beauty,
Thou marvel of duty,
Dear Annie, dear Annie of the Vale.
The world we inherit,
Is charm’d by thy spirit,
As radiant as the mild, warm Summer ray f
The watch-dog is snarling,
For fear, Annie, darling,
His beautiful young friend I’d steal away ¢
Come, come, come, love, come
Come, ere the night-torches pale f
Oh come, in thy beauty,
Thou marvel of duty,
Dear Annie, dear Annio of the Vale §
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AIR---“AININIE LAURIE.”’
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45 Love's dream is like the rainbow,
9 P A shade of every hue;
Bs Or like a blushing flower,
3 That smiles beneath the dew.
4 Beneath the glittering dew;
Oh! ever thus, I ween,
The dream of love is pleasing,
While rainbow tints are seen.
I fondly dreamed of Jessie,
4.) The belle of Aberdeen ;
3 Her eye was deepest azure,
The brightest ever seen—
The brightest ever seen;
Her cheek like\roses fair,
And the sunlight softly lingered
Around her golden hair.
And when the flowers were dying
Upon the heather there,
They brought a little ringlet
Of charming Jessie’s hair ;
; ‘ Of dying Jessie’s hair,
: "Twas all I e’er should see,
cd With her dying hand she clipp’d it
: And bade them give it me.
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§ J. H. MORELAND, Book, Card and Fancy Job Printing Office,
235 Essex Street, Salem. Songs printed very Cheap.
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MOHAWK VALE.
Composed by W. PERCIVAL. Sung at Bryant’s Minsirels,
Mechanics’ Hall, Broadway, by T. Prendergast.
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4 Sweet is thevale where the Mohawk gently glides, #
On the clear winding way to the sea, [sides,
And dearer than all storied streams on garth be-}
| Is this bright rolling river to me, !
¢ But sweeter, dearer, yes dearer far than these,
Who charms when others all fail,
c Is blue-eyed bonny Eloise, i
4 The Belle of the Mohawk Vale.
; Oh, sweet are.the scenes of my boyhood’s sunny
| That bespangle the gay vally o’er, [hour, }
6 And dear are the friends seen thro’ memory’s fond &
Ze, That have lived in the blest days of yore, [tears J
we But sweeter, dearer, yes dearer far than these,
4 Who charms when others all fail,
| Is blue-eyed bonny Eloise,
The Belle of the Mohawk Vale.
ff Through my loved haunts now mossy and grey, ¥e a ¥*
»¢- And dearer than all is my childhood’s hallowed SV
} That is crumbling now slowly away, iG
| But sweeter, dearer, yes dearer far than these, |
Who charms when others all fail, ;
1 Ts blue-eyed bonny Eloise,
4 The Belle of the Mohawk Vale.
. Andrews, Printer, 38 Chatham St. N xX,
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CAPTAIN DAN RICE,
The Natior’s Humorist, on
BUCHANANS CABINET
As Sung in Washington City, on the occasion of the Inauguration, by DAN
RICE, to over 20,000 persons, March 4th, 1857. Published by Permission.
— OO
Tune---The Favorite Air of ‘Root Hog or Die.”
I’m staying for a while at the Marble Front Hotel,
Kept by the brothers Brown, and they feed me mighty well;
Politicians thick as bees there, ladies dress so fine,
And there all mechanics in the cabinet making line.
Though I’m chief cook, bottle washer, captain of the waiters,
Takes old ‘‘Buck’’ to strip the jackets from the ’taters ;
They say about his Cabinet he’s acted very sly,
But I’ve found out all about it—‘‘it’s Root Hog or Tie.”
There’s old Genzrat Cass, a Senator to date,
Who’s bound to fill the post, Secretary of the State;
They beat him out at home, put another in his seat,
But tricky diplomatists will find him hard to beat;
For he’s chief cook, bottle washer, captain of the waiters,
He’ll strip off their disguise, like peelings off of ’taters,
Their cunning and deceit he’s able to defy,
And make them respect our nation, ‘‘Root Hog or Die.”
To head our gallant Navy is Toucy of renown,
Who'll send no fleets to China to cut their ‘‘pigtails’”’ down ;
And this too, I’m certain, he is the very man
To open every port belonging to Japan;
For he’s chief cook, bottle washer, captain of the waiters,
He'll scatter shot round fast as pat can swallow taters ;
Like a Clipper he will sail close up in the wind’s eye,
And the motto on his bunting will be ‘Root Hog or Die.”
»
The bureau of our Army he’ll call ‘Virginia’s Son,’
The glorious ‘Old Dominion’ that gave us Washington!
As into line of battle the troops will be deployed,
They will huzza for ‘Master James,’ and ‘Old Virginia’s Froyn.’
For he’s chief cook, bottle washer, captain of the waiters,
Raised in Old Virginia on hominy and ’taters ;
Way down in Old Virginny, the first word he did cry,
Was go it ‘Old Dominion,’ ‘Root Hog or Die.’
To hull out ‘Mint Drops,’ to fill each empty job,
‘Old Buck’ went down to Georgia to hunt up a Coxr ;
Then look out ye defaulters, you know what he will do,
If he catches your fingers dipping in the surplus revenue.
For he’s chief cook, bottle washer, captain of the waiters,
Take the tariff of wool, salt, sugar and potatoes.
He'll guard the ‘strong box,”’ and all of you know why,
For in honesty he’s so strong—‘Root Hog or Die.’
As conductor of the trains that carries all the mails,
Is good humored Aaron Brown, to see if but one fails;
In telegraphic times the mails are bound to shine,
On land they go by railroad, at sea by Collins’ Line.
For he’s chief cook, bottle washer, captain of the waiters,
He'll scatter mails around and watch the operators ;
In spite of jall impediments he’ll make the letters fly,
When he sings out clear the track—‘Root Hog or die.’
To settle points of law, to know what claims are fudge,
Our Attorney General is to be a good ‘Old Keystone Judgv’—
Impartial JerEmiau Buacx, who’s ready still to stand
Before our black-robed Judges, with precedents at hand.
He’s chief cook, bottle washer, captain of the waiters;
From naughty deeds he’ll strip the fur, and watch the legislators.
For to swindle ‘Uncle Sam’ ’twill be in vain to try,
With Jerry Black at his back—‘Root Hog or Dic.’
Interior of Affairs to guard and regulate,
Comes sturdy Jacon THompson, who won’t repudiate,
Though he comes from Mississippi, I’ll tell you here to-night,
That on the great goose question he’s always in the right.
He’s chief cook, bottle washer, captain of the waiters,
He’ll deal you out new patents, land warrants, seed for ’taters,
And if you want a pension, he’ll know the reason why—
Whether in the revolution you did ‘Root Hog or Die.’
,
In olden times kings had their fools to while away their time,
To please them, as I hope I’ve done, all here in mongrel, rhyme;
But our James Buchanan these duties to discharge,
Has given Dan Rice the post of ‘humorist at large.’
For he’s chief cook, bottle washer, a captain of a fool,
Who has sct an cxample to them all of a new and witty school,
His oddities can make you laugh, his pathos make you cry;
The only art he uses is to ‘Root Hog or Die.’
Published and sold at wholesale and retail, by
Re Sey A Porm EA Me
Dealer in Clocks, Watches, Jewelry, Fancy Goods, Fireworks, &c., &c.,
No. 187 Essex Street, Salem, Mass.
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| THE GARRIER DOVE.
US
Fly away to my native Laid chasing sweet Dove,
Fly away to my native land,
And bear these lites to my lady love,
That I’ve traced with a feeble hand.
She marvels much at my long delay,
A rumor of death she has heard,
Or she thinks, perhaps, that I falsely stray ;
Then fly to her bower, sweet bird. |
ie
Oh! fly to her bower, and say the chain
Of the tyrant is o’er me now—
That I never shall mount my steed again
With helmet upon my brow!
No friend to my lattice a solace brings,
Except when your voice is heard ;
When you beat the bars with your snowy wings,
Then fly to her bower, sweet bird.
I shall miss thy visit at dawn, sweet dove,
I shall miss thy visit at eve ;
But bring me a line from my lady love,
And tuen I shall cease to grieve.
I can bear in a dungeon, to waste away youth,
I can fall by the canqueror’s sword,
But I cannot endure she should doubt my truth,
Then fly to her bower sweet bird.
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OTIS MIDNIGHT HOUR.
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Tis midnight hour, the moon shines bright,
The dew-drops play beneath her ray ;
The twinkling stars their trembling light,
Like beauty” 8 eyes display.
Then sleep no more, though ’round thy heart
Some tender dream may idly play,
For midnight song with magic art,
Shall chase that dream away.
Yi
e Tis midnight hour, from flower to Macnee
The wayward Ze phyr floats along,
a Or lingers in some shady bower,
To hear the night-bird’s song.
Then sleep no more, though round thy heart
Some tender dr anh may idly play,
For midnight song with magic art,
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Childhood’s days now pass before me,
Forms and scenes of long ago,
Like a dream they hover o’er me,g
Calm and bright as evening’s glow.
Days that know no shade of sorrow,
There my young heart pure and free,
Joyful hailed each coming morrow
In the Cottage by the sea.
CHORUS:
In the Cottage by the sea,
In the Cottage by the sea,
Joyful hailed each coming morrew,
In the Cottage by the sea.
Fancy sees the rose trees twining,
Round the old and rustic deor,
And below, the white beach shining,
Where I gathered shells of yore.
Hears my mother’s gentle warning,
As she took me on her knee;
And I feel again life’s morning,
In the Cottage by the sea,
In the Cottage by the sea, &e.
What though years rolled above me, —
Though ’mid fairer scenes | roam,
Yet I ne’er shall cease to love thee,
Childhood’s dear and happy home!
And when life’s long day is closing,
Oh! how pleasant it would be,
On some faithful heart reposing,
In the Cottage by the sea.
In the Cottage by the sea, &e.
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Childhood’s days now pass before me,
Forms and scenes oflongago;
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Calm and bright as evening’s glow ;
Days that knew no shade of sorrow,
When my young heart, pure and free,
Joyful hailed each coming morrow,
In the Cottage by the sea.
Cuorvs : Inthe Cottage by the sea,
In the Cottage by the sea,
Joyful hailed each coming morraye,
In the Cottage by the sea.
Fancy sees the rose-trees twining
Round the old and rustic door ;
And, below, the white beach shining,
Where I gathered shells, of yore ; —
Hears my Mother’s gentle warning,
As she took me on her knee ;
And I feel again life’s morning,
In the Cottage by the sea.
In the Cottage by the sea, &e.
What though years have rolled above me,
Though ’mid fairer scenes I roam,
Yet I ne’er shall cease to love thee,
Childhood’s dear and happy home !
And when life’s long day is closing,
Oh! how pleasant would it be,
On some faithful breast reposing,
In the Cottage by the sea |!
Tn the Cottage by the sea, &e.
oh 2 eon
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Words and Music by D. R. HANBY.
2asoe
‘Mkere’s a low green valley on the old Kentucky sbere,
There I’ve whiled many happy hours away,
\ sitting and a singing by the Wttle cottage door
Where lived my darling Nelly Gray.
CHOP YS,
Oh, my poor Nelly Gray, they have taken gum away,
And J’ll never see my darling any more,
I'm sitting by the river and weeping all the day
For you’ve gone from old Kentucky shor.
REPEAT.
When the moon had climb’d the mountaim, and the stars
were shining too,
Then I'd take my darling Neily Gray
And we'd float down the river in my little ¢szoe—
While my banjo sweetly I would play.
Oh, my poor Nelly Gray, &e. iam "
One night I went to see her, but she’s geve, the neighbors
Bay,
The white man bound her with his chain—
They have taken her to Georgia for to weug her life away,
As she toils in the cotton and the cane.
Oh, my poor Nelly Gray, &ce.
My canoe is under water, and my banjo fs unstrung,
I’m tired of living any more ; \}
“pm My eyes shall look downward, and my sezags shall be unsweg GAs
Hic (CCA While I stay on old Kentucky shore. i
)
Oh, my poor Nelly Gray, &c.
_) My eyes are getting blinded and | cannes see my way,
4, (C4/ Hark! there’s somebody knocking at the door ;
CY Oh, I hear the angels calling and [ see may Nelly Gray;
(I Farewell to the old Kentucky shore
‘CHORUS,
Oh, my Nelly Gray, up in Heaven thers they say
f That they will never take you from me way more,
bl I’m a coming, coming, coming as the angels clear the way-
“A Farewell to the old Kentucky shore. A 2A
J. ANDREWS, PUBLISHER, 88 CHATHAW &T., NEW YORK” “wee
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COMPOSED BY J. S. LEFAVOUR,
And sung with unbounded applause, by the Howanp Boriusavy i
Opera Trovurr, of Salem. &
>->---o______-_-——_
I was born in old Kentucky State,
Where the sugar cane does grow, \
Where the darkies work from, morn till mght, ¥°
The cotton plant to hoe. Ly
At sunset, when the work is done,
Their many forms are seen,
A dancing by the old banjo,
Upon the village green.
Cuorts—Then drop a tear you darkies, 43 Ssez
; For old Kentucky shore;
We've left it far behind us,
And n’er shall see it more.
{Herear. }
The colored girls, they look so nice,
And when you pass them by, |
You see the blush upon their cheek,
And the smile that’s in their eye.
And then they dress so very neat,
Upon a sunday morn,
With ribbons floating in the air,
The color of the corn.
Of all the states [ve travelled yet,
Kentucky is the best ;
And when I leave this troubled world
"Tis there Id like to rest.
In springtime, when the blue birds sing,
And sweet wild flowers bloom,
There I could rest so peacefully,
Down in my silent tomb.
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Lay up nearer, brother, nearer, for my limbs are growing cold,
thy presence seemeth dearer when thy arms around me fold.
1am dying, brother, dying, soon you will miss me in your berth,
And my form will soon be lying beneath the ocean’s briny surf.
Hearken to me, brother, hearken, I have something I would say,
Ere this veil my vision darken and I go from hence away,
Tam going, surely going, but my hopes in God are strong,
Iam willing, brother, knowing that He doeth nothing wrong. 4
Tell my father when you greet him that in death I prayed for him, _
Prayed that I might one day meet him, in a world that’s free from sin ;
Tell my mother, God assist her now that she is growing old,
Tell her son would glad have kissed her when his lips grew pale and cold.
Hearken to me—catch each whisper, ’tis my wife I'd speak of now,
Tell, oh tell her how I missed her, when the fever burned my brow.;
Hearken to me, closely listen, don’t forget a single wom,
That in death my eyes did glisten with the tears her memory stirred.
Tell her to kiss my children, like the kiss I last impressed,
Hold them as last I held them, folded closely to my breast ;
Give them early to their Maker, putting all their trust im God,
And He never will forsake her—He has said so in His ward.
e
O my children, Heaven bless them! they were all my lif to me ;
Would I could once more caress them, ere I sink beneath She sea,
’Twas for them I crossed the ocean—what my hopes were IH not fell,
But they have gained an orphan’s portion—yet He doeth ali things well.
Tell my sisters I remember every kindly parting word, |
And my heart has been kept tender by the thoughts their memory stir’d.
Tell them I never reached the haven where I sought the precious dust,
But I’ve gained a port called Heaven, where the gold doth never rust.
Urge them to secure an entrance, for they will find their brother there,
Faith in Jesus and repentance will secure for them a share, —
Hark! I hear my Savior calling—’tis I know his voice so well,
When I’m gone, O don’t be weeping, brother, hear my last Farewell!
6 eee eee eee eee ee c_5o Olle ee
Andrews , Printer, 38 Chatham St, WN. Y., Dealer in Songs, Game
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Beautiful star in heaven so bright,
Softly falls thy silver light,
As thou movest from earth afar,
Star of the evening—beautiful star !
. Beautiful star, beautiful star,
Star of the evening,
Beautiful, beautiful star !
ns?
In fancy’s eye thou seem’st to-say,
Follow me—come from earth away,
Upward thy spirit’s pinions try,
To realms of love beyond the sky.
Beautiful star, beautiful star,
Star of the evening,
Beautiful, beautiful star !
Shine on! oh, star of love divine,
And may our souls around thee twine,
As thou movest from earth afar,
Star of the twilight—beautiful star !
Beautiful star, beautiful star,
Star of the evening,
Beautiful, beautiful star !
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—_——
¢ The flowers I saw in the wild wood
Have since dropped their beautiful Dees
| Have slumbered for years in their graves :
| But the bloom on the flowers I remember,
Though their smiles I shall never more see,
4 For the cold chilly winds of December
7 Stole my flowers, my companions, from me.
% The roses may bloom on the morrow,
} And many dear friends I have won,
| But my heart can part with but sorrow,
When I think of the ones that are gone.
'§ Tis no wonder that I am broken-hearted,
7, . And stricken with sorrow should be,
For we have met, we have loved, we have parted,
My flowers, my companions, and me.
| How dark looks this world, and how dreary,
|} When we part from the ones that we love,
g But there’s rest for the faint and the weary,
And friends meet with lost ones above ;
, But in heaven I caa but remember,
When from earth my proud soul shall be free,
That no chilly winds of December
Shall steal my companions from mé.
II I NLL A A NRE eM Cl ae iS,
Printer, 38 Chatham St, NV. Y., Dealer in Songs, Games
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Words and Music composed by JOHN S. LEFAVOUR, of Salem. Words published by
permission from the author. Music to be had at the principal Bookstores.
—-—-------_-_-—__- > +} _—___-——-
In South Carolina I was born,
Down by the river's side ;
To pick the cotton, hoe the corn,
It was my joy, my pride.
And when at work down in the field,
My heart was light and gay ;
Yor with me there, so blooming fair,
Was charming Flora May.
1 or
ma OFP
CHORUS:
But Flora May has passed away,
In tears my heart is bound. )
Dear Flora May. has passed away, EC
And now lies sleeping in the cold, cold ground. &¥
[REPEAT.] p
How pleasant were the hours we passed, fp
Beneath the pine tree’s shade, BS
Or roaming by the gushing brook, | Oe
And in the forest glade ; :
But alas! these things were not for me, oy
She was not to be my bride ;
But like a flower that wastes away, k
She sickened, drooped and died. :
But now she’s passed away from earth, p
Angels have called her home ; ‘
My heart is sealed from joy and mirth, é
As I weep here alone. i
Alas! no joys are left for me— f
I wish not long to stay ;
My dying wish shall be to lie
By the side of Flora May.
ae ee ")
Published and sold, at wholesale and retail, by
UD aces A’ > ere AW. .
\ Dealer in CLOCKS, WATCHES, JEWELRY, FANCY GOODS, FIRE- (¢
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Ce Published by permission of John H. Duley, of Perhara’s Opera Troupe. (go
A
ao - a -——
¢) I met a pretty yaller gall, her name [ do not know, Ce
%) I meet her every evening, no matter where I go, f,
#\ She swings de fancy handkerchief that sparkles like the dew, (>
*) You'd know her if you seen her, she’s always dressed in blue. o
45) Cuorvs. F
re She'll set dis darkey crazy, [ don’t know what to do,
If I can’t get dat pretty gal dat [ saw dressed in blue.
q: She'll set dis darkey crazy, 1 don’t know what to do, 4}
5 If I don’t get dat pretty gal dat I saw dressed in blue. ¥2
; I met her in de street one day, she looked at me so sly, .
¢2 Dat when my horses seen her, dey boff began to shy; 2}
Dey bite, dey reared, dey jump, dey pitch, an’ down de
: street dey flew, ,
And passed dat pretty gall dat [ saw dressed in blue. f >
‘iV She'll set dis darkey, &e. f,
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*) Oh! if I could but hear her name, I hope it wont be long, (P>
;) And if I cannot find her my heart will break in two,
( Den I would sigh and bid good bye to de pretty gall in blue.
She'll set dis darkey, &c.
0 I'd follow up de telemgraph de verses ob dis song;
3 Published and sold at wholéssle and retail, by
2 JOSHUA PECKFHAM,
Dealer in Clocks, Watches, Jewelry, Fancy Goods, Fireworks, &c., 187
oS
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THE GAY.
ACAVALIER.
As sung by Miss AGatHa MANDEVILLE.
« Twas a beautiful night, the stars shone bright,
» And the mogn o’er the waters played,
m When a gay cavalier to a bower drew near,
A maid to serenade ;
) To tenderest words he swept the chords,
And many a sigh heaved he,
While o’er and o’er he fondly swore,
+ Sweet maid I love none but thee.
Sweet maid, sweet maid,
Sweet maid I love none but thee. perce
i He raised his eye to her lattice high,
While he softly breathed his hopes,
| With amazement he sees, swing about in the breeze,
Already a ladder of ropes.
s Up, up he has gone, the bird is flown,
$ Mi What is this on the ground ?” quoth he ; ;
2% “ Oh it’s plain that she loves, here’s some gentleman’s gloves,
s She is off, and it’s not with me.”
For these gloves, these gloves, Ravsat
They never belonged to me. ee
| Of course you’d have thought he’d have followed and fought,
As that was a duelling age,
/ fj But this gay cavalier, he quite scorned the idea
9 _ Of putting himself in a rage ;
More wise by far, he put up his guitar,
And as homeward he went, sung he,
i‘‘ When a lady elopes down a ladder of ropes,
She may go to Hong Kong for me.”
She may go, she may go, 7
She may go to Hong Kong for me. Repeat.
e/ gt Andrews, Printer, 38 Chatham St, N.Y., Dealer in Songs, Games :
Toy Books, Motio Verses, &¢., Wholesale and Retail,
. x —————- O-e~ ————
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Thou wilt come no more, gentle Annie,
Like a flower thy spirit did depart,
‘Thou art gone, alas, like the many,
That have bloomed in the summer of my heart.
PR, Coto Wasa
Sey este 5k
Se
CHORUS.
Shall we never more belrold thee,
Neyer hear thy winning voice again,
When the spring-time comes, gentle Annie,
When the wild flowers are scattered o’er the plain
We have roamed and loved mid the bowers,
When thy downy cheeks were in bloom,
Now I stand alone mid the flowers,
While they mingle their perfumes o’er thy tomb.
Chorus—Shall we never more, &e.
Ah, the hours grow sad while I ponder,
Near the silent spot where thou art laid,
And my heart bows down when I wander,
By the streams and meadows where we strayed.
RR CN IO 9 OI 00 I ng PR ee
Chorus—Shall we never more, &c.
Published and sold at wholesale and retail, by
Poor A PECrht AM
Dealer in Clocks, Watches, Jewelry, Fancy Goods, Fireworks, &c.,
No. 187 Essex ice a Mass.
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Niusic Publisher,
Good news from home— good news for me,
Has come across the deep blue sea,
From friends that I have left in tears—
From friends that. I’ve not seen for years,
And since we parted long, ago,
My life has been a scene of wo,
But now a joyful hour has come,
For I have heard good news from home.
CHORUS,
Good news from home, good news for me,
Has come across the deep blue sea,
From friends that I have left in tears,
From friends that. I’ve not seen for years.
No father’s near to,guide me now,
No mother’s tear # soothe my brow,
No sister’s voice falls on mine ear,
Nor brother’s smile to give me cheer.
But, though I wander far away,
My heart is full of joy to-day,
For friends across the ocean’s foam
Have sent to me, good news from home.
Good news from home, &c.
When shall I see that cottage door,
Where Iv’e spent years of joy before. ?
"Twas there I knew no grief or care,
My heart was always happy there.
Though I may never see it more,
Nor stand upon my native shore,
Where’er on earth I’m doomed to ream,
My heart will be with those at home.
Good news from home, &ec.
” Bice snr
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qeienotx.t. Aforeatih, b HE onies
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COMPOSED BY HENRY O. UPTON,
3) And sung with unbounded applause by the Howard Burlesque Opera Troupe» ;
4) 7 of Salem, Mass. Words published by permission: +f
3 e) . RS
3 The moon was rising in the sky, &
J As Sarah came to me; 4
a She asked if I would like to go ay
4 Down to the jubilee. He
7.) ; Just then I heard the banjo sound, we
3 The bones and tamborine; §»
3 She said the darkies all would go P)
8) If I would raise a team. B
j CHORUS: :
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3 We all went off together §
3 Along with Sarah Jane; ED
4c She drove a span of horses, aE
a Down the village lane. a
4, A She drove a carriage to the door, : Ps
: The horses would not wait; .
Z.) The ladies had to hurry up— >%
3 ’T was getting rather late. f
3 She snapped the whip and off we flew, Be
% 5 It put my heart in pain, é
ch To see the carriage wheel come off,
& oN
POD
Along with Sarah Jane,
We all went off together, &c.
s
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It made this nigger kind of smile,
To see his Sally lub,
And lots of other colored gals
A scrabbling in the mud.
At last we got down to the ball,
And sung a lively strain;
The darkies danced and gave three cheers,
[Spoken— Who for ?] 3%
Why handsome Sarah Jane. ° i 9
We all went off together, &e. fe
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G eaeeeee : ee : ¥
C3) GEORGE WW. PECKEAM, (e
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,) No. 10 LAFAYETTE STREET, Salem, Mass. All the new Songs constantly ¢ 5
t on hand. Orders from the country promptly attended to. {>
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J. H. Moreland, Book and Job Printer, 235 Essex Street, Salem.
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In the Hazel Dell my Nelly’s sleeping,
Nelly loved so long
And my lonely, lonely watch I’m keeping,
Nelly lost and gone;
Here in moon-light often we have wandered
Through the silent shade,
Now where leafy branches drooping,
Downward, little Nelly’s laid.
CHORUS:
All alone my watch I’m keeping
In the Hazel Dell.
For my darling Nelly’s near me sleeping,
Nelly dear, farewell, Repeat. +
In the Hazel Dell my Nelly’s sleeping,
Where the flowers wave,
And the silent stars are nightly weeping
O’er poor Nelly’s grave,
Hopes that once my bosom fondly cherished,
Smile no more for me,
Every dream of joy alas has perished,
Nelly dear, with thee.
All alone my watch, &c,
Now I’m weary, friendless and forsaken,
Watching here alone,
Nelly, thuu no more will fondly cheer me,
With thy loving tone.
Yet forever shall thy gentle :mage
In my mem’ry dwell,
And my tears thy lonely grave shall moisten,
Nelly dear, farewell.
All alone my watch, &c.
| -gaadv ue a4 eo
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a Home again, home again,
a From a foreign shore ;
Y 1 And O, it fills my soul with joy,
Au To meet my friends once more.
oN 3 Here I dropped the parting tear,
Sie MEL 4 To cross the ocean’s foam ;
hig But now I’m once again with those
4 & Wee Who kindly greet me home.
Sy A Home again, &c.
SP ORE
RSS ia Happy hearts, happy hearts
at * rN - With mine have Jaughed in glee ;
AG ny ) But O, the friends I loved in youth
rah a Seem happier to me.
“he ae And if my guide should be the fate
Which bids me longer roam,
But death alone can break the tie
That binds my heart to home.
Home again, &c.
Music sweet, music soft,
Lingers round the place ;
And O, I feel the childhood charm,
That time cannot efface.
Then give me but my homestead roof,
I'll ask no palace dome ;
For I can live a happy life
With those I love at home.
Sc es ee a Sa
hasten
Home again, &c.
Ss 9
Se a
5 J. Andrews, No- 38 Chatham St., N.Y.
aes Ne Printer of’ Songs, Circulars, ‘Cards,
fi Nae ~~ Labels, &c. &c. Neat, Quick and Cheap,
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Out on an ocean all boundless we ride— eR
We're homeward bound, homeward bound, (sf
Far from the safe, quiet harbor we’ve rode, (8)
Tossed on the waves of a rough, restless tide— Bt)
We're homeward bound, homeward bound. (4) F
Seeking our Father's celestial abode, (
Promise of which on us each he bestowed, oe)
We're homeward bound, homeward bound. ‘by
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Wildly the storm sweeps us on as it roars— i
We're homeward bound, homeward bound. fh
Steady, O pilot! stand firm at the wheel; ,
Look! yonder lie the bright heavenly shores— it
We're homeward bound, homeward bound. it
Steady ! we soon shall out weather the gale ; RACs
O how we fly neath the loud creaking sail—
We're homeward bound, homeward bound.
SPP ee Se
(GNU
Into the harbour of heaven now we'vlide—
We're home at last, home at last,
Softly we drift on its bright silver tide—
. We’re home at last, home at last.
Glory to God! all our dangers are o’er;
ese
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Awlé
We stand secure on the glorified shore ; Gd
Glory to God we will shout evermore— ears
We're home at last, home at last.
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On a Willow Tree.
T’ll hang my harp on a willow tree,
Ill off to the wars again,
My peaceful home has no charms for me,
The battle field no pain ;
The lady I love will soon be a bride,
With a diadem on her brow;
Oh why did she flatter my boyish pride
She’s going to leave me now.
Oh, why, &c.
She took me away from my warlike lord,
And gave me a silken suit,
I thought no more of my master’s sword,
When I played on my master’s lute.
She seemed to think me a boy above
Her pages of low degree ;
Oh, had I loved with a boyish love,
It would have been better for me.
Oh, had I, &c.
Then [’ll hide in my breast every selfish care;
I'll flush my pale cheek with wine ;
When smiles awake the bridal pair
I'll hasten to give them mine:
Tl laugh and Ill sing, though my heart may bleed,
And [ll walk in the festal train,
And if I survive it I'll mount my steed,
And I'll off to the wars again.
And if I survive, &c.
But one golden tress of her hair I'll twine
In my helmet’s sable plume,
And then on the field of Palestine,
Til seek an early doom.
And if by the Saracen’s hand I fall,
*Mid the noble and the brave,
A tear from my lady love is all
I ask for the warrior’s grave.
A tear from, &¢
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Pa ’m Leaving Tedin
SORROW,
I’m leaving thee in sorrow, Annie,
I’m leaving thee in tears ;
It may be for a long time Annie,
Perhaps for many years.
But *tis more kind to part now, dearest,
Than longer here in pain,
To weep o’er joys that once were shining,
But ne’er may shine again.
GHORUS
I'm leaving thee, but weep not, Annie,
Pll come back yet to thee,
And bring some hope and comfort, Annie,
To one so dear to me.
I’m thinking on the past, dear Annie,
Thy locks were bright as gold,
Thy smile was soft, but now, dear Annie,
Our hearts seem growing old.
Yet ’tis not time has stole the blossoms,
From off thy cheek so fair,
*T was winter come too soon upon us,
And chilled the flowerets there.
I'm leaving thee, but weep not, Annie,
For when I’ve passed yon sea,
Tl gather hope and comfort, Annie,
And bring them back to thee.
I’m leaving thee in sorrow, Annie,
I’m leaving thee in tears,
It may be for a long time, Annie,
Perhaps for many years.
d. Agee Bante d 38 nae oo N.Y.
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I’m saddest when I
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I’ve wandered by the hut side,
Where Nelly used to dwell,
And sat upon the seat we made,
My aching heart to quell.
But now she’s gone to happier climes,
Her troubles—they are o’er,
This darkey’s heart is breaking fast,
For darling Nelly Moore.
CHORUS.
Then good bye, good bye, Nelly dear,
We ne’er shall see you more,
You’re gone to happier, better climes,
Your troubles—they are o’er.
Oh, she was everything to me,
We loved each other well,
And all the darkeys in the place,
Thought all the world of Nell,
Ican’t help cry to think she’s dead,
O Nell, why have you gone,
And left this darkey by himself,
To walk about alone ?
CHORUS.
Then good bye, good bye, Nelly dear,
We ne’er shall see you more ;
You’re gone to happier, better climes,
Your troubles—they are o’er.
I almost think I see you now,
Away up in the sky,
If we be good, old massa says,
We go there when we die.
So I'll be patient, Nelly love,
Vil see bye and bye,
And O! what happy times we’ll have,
Away up in the sky !
CHORUS/
Then good bye, good bye, Nelly dear,
We ne’er shall see you more ;
You’re gone to happier, better climes,
Your troubles—they are o’er.
Ke ie APL LALA PAL LAA LA A NT ae
4 Andrews, Printer, 38 Chatham St, NV. Y., Dealer in Songs, Games
yr Toy Books, Mot holesale and Retail.
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POPPE RDI rere
Let me go to my home in the far distant west,
To the scenes of my youth, that I like the best;
Where the tall cedars are and the bright waters flow,
Where my parents will greet me—white man let me go. ¢
Let me go to the spot where the cataract plays,
Where oft I have sported in my boyish days, .
There is my poor mother, whose heart will o’er-flow,
At the sight of her child—oh, there let me go.
Let me go to the hills and the valleys so fair,
Where oft I have breathed my own mountain air,
And there through the forest with quiver and bow,
I have chased the wild deer—oh, there let me go.
Let me go to my father, by whose’ valient side,
I have sported so oft in the height of my pride,
And exulted to conquer the insolent foe— -
To my father, that chieftain—oh, there let me go!
And, oh, let me go to my dark-eyed maid,
Who taught me to love beneath the willow shade ;
Whose heart’s like the fawn’s, and as pure as the snow,
And she loves her dear Indian—to her let me go.»
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And, oh, let me go to my fair forest home,
And never again wil! I wish to roam,
And there let my body in ashes lie low;
To that scene in the forest, white man let me go,
) Andrews’, Printer, 38 Chatham St., NV. Y., Dealer in Songs, Games,
+ Toy Books, Motto Verses, &§c., Wholesale and Retail, &@
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You are going far away,
Tar away from poor Jeannette,
There is no on: left to love me now,
And you, too, may forget ;
But my heart will be with you,
Wherever you may go ;
Can you look me in the face,
And say the same tu me, Jeannotte ?
When you wear the jacket blue,
And the beautiful cockade,
Oh, I fear you will forget
All the promises you made;
With the gun upon your shoulder,
And the bayonet by your side,
You'll be taking some proud lady,
And be making her your bride,
Or when glory lead the way,
You'll be madly rushing on,
Never thinking if they kill you,
That my happiness is gone ;
If you win the day, perhaps
A General you'll be,
Though I’m proud to think of that,
What will become of me?
Oh, if I were the Queen of France,
Or still better, Pope of Rome,
I would have no fighting men abroad,
No Weeping maids at home;
All the world should be at peace,
Or if kings must show their might,
Why let them who make the quarrels,
Be the only men to fight. d
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Oh! they tell me thou art dead, Katy Darling,
That thy smile I may never more behold,
Did they tell thee I was false, Katy Darling,
Or my love for thee had ever grown cold ?
Oh! they know not the loving
Of the hearts of Erin’s sons;
When a love like to thine, Katy Darling,
. Is the goal to the race that he runs.
Oh ! hear me, sweet Katy,
For the wild flowers greet me, Katy Darling,
And the love-birds are singing on each tree—
Wilt thou never more hear me, Katy Darling !
Behold, love, I’m waiting for thee.
I’m kneeling by thy grave, Katy Darling,
This world is all a blank world to me;
Oh! couldst thou hear my wailing, Katy Darling, |
Or think, love, I’m sighing for thee.
Fy, by
On! me thinks the stars are weeping,
By their soft and lambent light,
And thy heart would be melting, Katy Darling,
Couldst thou see thy lone Dermot this night.
Oh! listen, sweet Katy,
For the wild flowers are sleeping, Katy Darling,
And the love-birds are nestling in each tree ;
Wilt thou never more hear me, Katy Darling,
Or know, love, I’m kneeling by thee.
Tis useless all my wee ping, Katy Darling,
But Pll pray that thy spirit be my guide,
And that when my life is spent, Katy Darling,
They will lay me down to rest by thy side.
Oh! a huge great grief I’m bearing,
Though I scarce can heave a sigh,
And I'll ever be dreaming, Katy Darling,
Of thy love every day till I die.
Farewell, then, sweet Katy—
For the wild flowers will blossom, Katy Darling,
And the love-birds will warble on each tree,
But in heaven I shall meet thee, Katy Darling,
For there, love, thou art waiting for me.
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By Thomas Slean, Jr.
LPP PLP PLP ALD LLP PPD
You ask what makes this darkie weep,
Why he like others am not gay,
What causes the tear to flow down his cheek,
From early morn till close of day.
My story, darkies, you shall hear,
For in my memory tresh it dwells,
It will cause you all to drop a tear
On the grave of my sweet Kitty Wells. .
CHORUS.
While the birds were singing in the morning,
And the myrtle and the ivy were in bloom,
And the sun on the hill was a dawning,
It was then we laid her in the tomb.
I never shall forget the day
That we .ogether roamed the dells,
I kissed her cheek, and named the day
That I should marry Kitty Wells.
But death came in my cabin door,
And took from me my joy and pride,
And when I found she was no more,
I laid my banjo down and cried.
While the birds, &c.
I often wish that I was dead,
And laid beside her in the tomb.
The sorrow that bows down my head
is silent in the midnight gloom.
The spring time has no charms for me,
Though flowers are blooming in the dells,
For that bright form I do not see,
Tis the form of my sweet Kitty Wells.
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’Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone:
No flower of her kindred
No rose-bud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.
T’ll not leave thee thou lone one,
To pine on the stem ;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go sleep thou with them;
Thus kindly U scatter,
Thy leaves o’er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow,
Whes friendship decay,
And from love’s shining circle
Tho gems drop away ;
When true hearts lie withered,
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone ?
nter, 190 Houston Street.
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The Lawrence Disaster.
BY JASON E. COWDEN.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by J. FE. Cowden, in the Clerk’s Office of the District of Mas-
suchusetts.
Heard ye that wail of fearful woe,
Loud bursting on the air!
Listen! Oh listen, to those groans
. And shrieks of wild despair!
Why throbs the nation’s giant heart,
_ With anguish wild and deep !
Oh. deep must be the fearful woe,
That makes a nation weep !
The morning sun, with cheering beams,
_ Leaped from his briny bed,
And swiftly toward the western hills
His onward course he sped.
Searce had his last bright golden rays
Flashed from each dome and spire,
When through the streets of Lawrence
rung
The fearful cry of fire.
Forth from their anvil, bench and leom,
Her citizens they came,
Whilst louder, higher, rang the ery,
The Pemberton’s in flames !
No fire was there, yet Pemberton
A mass of ruins laid,
Crushing beneath its cruel weight
The matron and the maid.
The hoary hairg of three score years,
Mingled with youth’s fresh bloom,
Whilst groans and wails, and frantic
prayer,
Burst from their living tomb.
A father sees his only child
Writhe ’neath a cruel beam;
Save me, Oh Father! father save!
The maiden wildly screamed.
T come! I come! the father cried,
Thy suff'rings soon shall cease—
Heavens! the father now recoils,
Whilst flames burst in his face.
He turned on her his frantic eye
With fear and horror glazed—
Great God! that loved, that only child
Has perished while he gazed.
The radiant beam of trusting hope;
Which lighted ev’ry eye,
Goes out amid that smoky pall
That shrouds the starry sky ;
The crowd had caught the frantic ery,
Which thrilled through every frame,
The night winds echoed back the shriek, —
The ruins are in flames!
Shriek upon shriek, groan upon groan,
Rang on the midnight air—
Curses and supplications wild,
Mingled with frantic prayer—
The flames are gathering giant strength,
Each moment flickering higher,
Whilst horrid pzeans of despair
Rose from the funeral pyre.
The morn in grand sublimity
Pours down its golden light,
Kclipsing ev’ry diamond star
That decks the brow of night.
Hushed now is each shrill horrid shriek,
Which lately rung so wild,
In death’s embrace, a shapeless mass,
Lay husband, wife and child.
Oh! who can tell the hopes and fears
Which yester morn were theirs ;
Hope gilded all the future bright,
Despite its toils and cares;
Fear did but make the ground work dark,
That hope might brighter gleam,
As frowning rocks a grandeur cast
Upon the cascades sheen.
The lover’s heart leaped wild with joy
As fancies silent trace
Upon the tablet of his heart,
Some dear remembered face.
The maiden stands behind her loom,
With pure and lofty brow,
Whilst tell tale blushes deck her cheek
As she recalls loves vows.
The old man with his hoary hairs,
Looks back on bygone years,
As mem’ry paints his childhood scenes,
His eye is dimmed with tears.
Alas! the lover's throbbing heart,
Old age’s hoary head,
The maiden’s pure and lofty brow
Haye all forever fled.
Sleep on! sleep on, ye weary ones,
Thy toils and pains are o’er;
We know that thou art happy now
On heaven’s blissful shore.
Soon we shall leave this earthly sphere,
And join with thee above,
To claim our immortality
Purchased by Jesus’ love.
Lowell, Jan. 20th, 1860,
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Let me Kiss
HIM FOR
Let me kiss him for his mother
Let me kiss his dear youthful brow ;
I will love him for his mother,
And seek her blessing now.
Kind friends have sooth’d his pillow,
Have watched his every care,
Beneath the weeping willow
O lay him gently there.
Cuorus—Sleep, dearest, sleep,
I love you as a brother ;
Kind friends around you weep,
Ive kissed you for your mother.
Let me kiss him for his mother,
What though left a lone stranger here.
She has loved him as none other,
I feel her blessing near.
Though cold that form lies sleeping,
Sweet angels watch around ;
Dear friends are near thee weeping,
O lay him gently down.
Cuorus—Sleep, dearest, sleep, &c.
Let me kiss him for his mother
Or perchance a fond sister dear ;
If a father or a brother
I know their blessing’s here.
Then kiss him for his mother,
"Twill soothe her after years ;
Farewell, dear stranger, brother,
Our requiem, our tears.
Cuorus—Sleep, dearest, sleep, &c.
/PERRRRESERNE €eHeEEERRERE
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'Pwas acalm, still night, and the moons pale light,
Shone soft o'er hill and vale ;
When friends mute with grief
Stood aronud the death bed
_Of my poor lost Lilly Dale
CHORUS:
Oh, Lilly, sweet Lilly, Dear Lilly Dale,
Now the wild rose blossoms
O’er her little green grave,
Neath the trees in the flow’ry vale.
Her cheek that once glow’d with the rose tint of health,
By the hand of disease had turned pale,
And the death damp
Was on the pure white brow,
Of my poor lost Lilly Dale.
} go, she said, “ tothe and of rest ”
And’ere my strength shall fail
I must tell you where,
Near my own loved home,
You must lay poor Lilly Dale.
Neath the chesnut tree where the wild flowers grow,
And the stream ripples forth through the vale,
Where the birds shall warble
Their songs inspring, .
There lay poor Lilly Dale.
. A om Vt JOHN M. JACKSON,
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AX As sung by Little Cordelia Howard, in the success- )A
ful Drama of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” at
the National Theatre, N. Y.é
When your daughter's ta’en away, and your heart is fill’d with care,
4, When with angels I shall pray, for your peace and comfort here,
Shall poor Uncle Tom be free, papa, promise this to me.
Shall poer Uncle Tom be free? papa, promise this to me.
! Wife and children, send him near, when forever I am gone,
Papa, check the falling tear, think upon my dying song.
Uncle Tom, oh! make him free, papa, do for me, for me!
LITTLE EVA IN HEAVEN.
As sung by J.B. Howe. at the National Theatre. N. Y.
A Childless, desolate this heart, naught on earth is left to cherish,
4) All is lost since we must part, every hope and joy will perish.
Eva, Eva, gentle daughter, are those bright eyes veiled in death—
RC That so fondly beamed with goodness, upon all at parting breath?
, Art thou gone fram me forever, shall I never more behold thee?
¥ Home is silent, dread and drear, uncle Tom is seen to weep,
| Topsy lingers near the bier, strewing flowers at thy feet.
i Eva, Eva, charming daughter, smile upon me from above,
| Open wide those gates of pearl, bless me with thy spotless love.
A Little angel thou art gone there, fill’d at last thy prophesy,
iy Farewell, only child, forever, what is now this world to me?
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TOPSY'S SONC.
LLL LL OO eee
Words by Eliza Cook---Music by Hutchinson.
Topsy neber was born, neber had a moder;
4 ‘Spects I growed a nigger brat, just like any oder.
Y y Whip me till the blood pours down, ole Misses use to do it;
C7 i Got no heart, I don’t belieb, niggers do without em; .
‘ “% Never hear of God or Love, so can’t tell mach about ’em.”
She said she’d cut my heart right out, but never could go to it;
CHORUS.
This is Topsy’s savage song,
Topsy ’cute and clever;
Hurrah! then, for the white maw’s right!
Slavery forever !
® ‘I ’spects I’se very wicked, that’s just what I am;
SoM On’y you just give me a chance, won’t I raise Ole Sam!
= "Paint no use in being good, cos’ I’se black, you see;
| I neber cared for nothing yet, and nothing cares for me.
| Hh! ha! ha! Miss Feely’s hand dun know how to grip me;
Neber likes to do no work, and won’t, widout dey whip me.” A
This is Topsy’s savage song
Topsy ’cute and clever;
Harrah! then, for the white man’s right!
Slavery forever!
“Don’t yeu die, Miss Evy, else I go dead teo;
WI knows I’se wicked, but I’ll try, and be all good to you.
4 You have taught me better things, though I’m nigger skin;
WS’ fm You have found poor Topsy’s heart, spite of all its sin.
Don’t you die, Miss Eva, dear, else T go dead too;
( P Though V’se black, Dse sure that God will let me 20 with you.” yy aS
This is Topsy’s human song,
Under love’s endeavor;
Hurrah! then, for the white child’s work!
Humanaty forever!
@ Andrews’. Printed, 38 Chatham St., N. ¥., Dealer in Songs, Toy %
Books, Motto ee oo: la teagle ons Retail.
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THE ARCTI
AIR.--- Caroline of Edinburg Town.
Ore
The gallants of the Arctic, each tale we hear denotes,
That ’ere the noble vessel sank, ye bravely saved the boats ;
But, my hearties, did you notice—there was surely time to wait,
Can you tell us how the gentle ones, and helpless, met their fate?
There were infants and fair maidens left shivering on the deck,
| And mothers with their cherished ones close clinging to the wreck ;
The aged, too, and sick were there—oh, tell us how it be,
That all these helpless creatures were swallowed by the sea?
And did you not stay by them—reached forth no hand to save,
Those dear ones of the country from such a cruel grave?
No! were all left to perish? and—ha, ye gallant few!
The meanest other thing alive I’d be, than such as you!
The history of Ocean hath many a gloomy page,
Recording scenes of terror, from man and nature’s rage ;
But ye gallants of the Arctic, tell the blackest story yet ;
I wish no worse to you than life—and never to forget.
A cry sweeps o’er the ocean, its anguish who can name,
From other lands ’twill echo back in tones of lasting shame ;
Our stoutest ship was struck at noon, there were five hours to spare,
Yet not a child or woman saved, of all who suffered there.
Then man the yards, my hearties! raise every color high,
Sound cannon, drums and trumpets, till their music reach the sky,
Cheers for the gallant engineers, subordinates and crew!
By all that floats they saved the boats—what braver could they do?
i = eat OL CE ap OE Ie EO OE OE OAL, OLD EN OTA GOA AD Da RE CII PD, ’)
Gy Andrews’, Printer, 38 Chatham St, NV. Y., Dealer in Songs, Games @&
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Words by Mrs M. A. Kippsr. — Music by Wm. B. Brapsury.
The music can be had at Firth, Pond & Co. 547 Broadway.
The army is gathering from near and from far ;
The trumpet is sounding the call for the war ;
McClellan’s our leader, he’s gallant and strong,
We'll gird on our armor, and be marching along.
CHORUS.
Marching along, we are marching along,
Gird on the armor, and be marching along ;
McClellan’s our leader, he’s gallant and strong ;
: 33
For God and our Country we’re marching along |
a ©
The foe is before us, in battle array ;
But let us not waver, or turn from the way ;
The Lord is our strength, and the Union’s our song ;
- With courage and faith, we are marching along.
A Chorus,
We sigh for our Country, we mourn for our dead ;
For them, now, our last drop of blood we will shed ;
Our cause is the right one : our foe’s in the wrong;
Then, gladly we'llsing as we’re marching along !
Chorus.
Our wives and our children we leave in your care
We know you will help them their sorrows to bear
'Tis hard thus to part, but we hope ’twont be long
We'll keep up our hearts as we’re marching along
Chorus.
ens 9s 52° ten
The Flag of our Country is floating on high ;
We'll stand by that Flag, till we conquer or die
McClellan’s our leader, he’s gallant and strong
We'll gird on our armor, and he mph along
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T lived with my grandma on yonder little green,
She’s the nicest old lady that ever was seen ;
She taught me fine lessons of prudence and care,
She bade me above all things of young men beware.
Of young men to beware,
Of young men to beware,
And she bade ’bove all things of young men to beware
These false young men they flatter and deceive,
So my dearest Eliza, you must not believe ;
They'll flatter, they'll coax, ’till you are in their snare,
And away goes poor old Grandma’s care,
Poor old Grandma’s care,
Poor old Grandma’s care,
And away goes poor old Grandma’s eare.
The first came a courting was little Johnny Green;
Fine young man as ever was seen ;
But the words of my Grandma did run in my head,
And I could not hear one word that he said,
One word that he said,
One word that he said,
And I could not hear one word that he said. .
The next c2me a courting was young Ellis Grave,
"Twas then we met with a joyous love; % \
' With a joyous love I could not be afraid,
You'd better get married than die an old maid. yy Ee
Than die an old maid, e
Than die an old maid, = i
Better get married than die an old maid. Lie pias dee
Oh ! dear, what a fuss these old women do make,
I wish in my heart, they would make a mistake,
If all the young wemen of young men were afraid,
Then Grandma herself would have died an old maid,
Would have died an old maid,
Would have died an old maid,
Then Grandma herself would have died an old maid.
a RES Sn ee See ee oo : 7 =
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~ = @erefep according to Act of Congress In the year 1860, by H. DE MARSAN %
in the Cerss’s office of the District Court o: the Gaited “tates. ‘ar the Sonthern District of New Vorie
1S 94°93 tea ure
— ott es 8
There was a place in childhood,
That I remember well,
And there a voice of sweetest tone
Bright fairy tales did tell ;
And gentle words and fond embrace
Were given with joy to me,
When I was in that happy state,
Upon my mother’s knee.
CHORUS.
My mother dear, my mother dear !
My gentle gentle mother !
When fairy tales were ended,
“Good night,” she softly said,"
And kissed and laid me down to sleep
Within my tiny bed;
And holy words she taught me there,
Methinks I yet can see a
Her angel eyes, as close I knelt
Beside my mother’s knee. ~
Oh ! mother dear, &c.
In the sickness of my childhood,
The perils of my prime,
The sorrows of my riper years,
The cares of every time—
When doubt or danger weighed me down,
Then pleading all for me,
It was a fervent prayer to Heaven
That bent my mother’s knee.
My mother dear, &c.
E>.
Andrews’. Printer, 38 Chatham St., N. Y., Dealer in Songs, Toy
p Books, Motto Verses, &c., 2
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The sun shines bright in my old Kentucky home,
‘Tis summer, the darkies are gay,
Thecorn top’s gpe and the meadow’s in the bloom,
While the \biras make music all the day.
The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,
All merry, all happy and bright,
By’n by Hard Times comes a knocking at the door,
Then my old Kentucky Home, good night.
CHORUS.
Weep no more, my lady;
Oh! weep no more to-day !
We will sing one song for the old Kentucky home,
For the old Kentucky home, far away.
They hunt no more for the possum and the coon
On the meadow, the hill and the shore,
They sing no more by the glimmer of the mocn,
On the bench by the old cabin door.
The day goes by like a shadow o’er the heart,
With sorrow where all was delight ;
The time has come when the darkies have to part,
Then my old Kentucky home, good night.
Weep no more, my lady, &c.
Thé head must bow and the back will have to bend,
Wherever the darkey may go;
A few more days, and the trouble all will end,
In the field where the sugar cane grow.
A few more days for to tote the weary load,
No matter ’twill never be light,
A few more days till we totter on the road, -
Then my old Kentucky home, good night!
Weep no more, my lady.
199 Houston Street.
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,yAnd the gentle voice of pretty Nettie Moore.
CHORUS.
£/0h I miss you, Nettie Moore, snd my happiness is o’er
( \While a spirit sad around my heart has come,
“ And the busy days are long, and the nights are lonely how |
2 For you’re gone from our “little cottage home.
, Below us in the valley, on the Santee’s dancing tide,
©°Of a Summer eve I’d launch my open boat ; 2) \\
)JAnd when the moon was rising, and the stars began toliGe?
shine, if he
‘4</Down the river we so merrily would float. 3)
_ Oh, I miss you, Nettie Moore, &e. ay
; /One sunny morn in Autumn, ere the dew had left the lawn >
5 \Came a trader up from Louisiana bay ; CCS
— gave to master money, and then shackl’d her with 54
chains. %
“yAnd then he took her off to work her life away.
Ob, Imiss you, Nettie Moore, &c.
to rise,
And j join the happy angels gone before,
<4,[ never can be merry, for my heart is fall of woe,
(aAnd I’m pining for my pretty Nettie Moore.
Oh, I miss you, Nettie Moore, &c.
2 n © ®
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(“But when weary life is past, I shall meet you once « again, * t
jin heaven; darling, up above the skies.
Oh, I miss ge Nettie mA &c.:
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o Ca oortibon.cettbon
FA ON rane
“Oh, bury me not in the deep, deep sea!’’
These words came low and mournfully,
From the pallid lips of a youth who lay
On his cabin couch, at the close of day.
He had wasted and pined, till o’er his brow
Lhe death shades bad slowly passed, and now
When the land aud his once loved home was nigh,
They had gathered around to see him die.
“Oh bury me not in the deep, deep sea,’’
Where the billowy shrouds will roll over me,
Where no light will burst through the dark, cold wave,
No sunbeams rest upon my grave.
Jt matters not, I’ve oft been told
Where the body shall rest when the heart is cold:
But grant ye, O grant ye, this boon to me.
“Oh, bury me not in the deep, deepsea.”
‘Let my death slumbers be where a mother’s prayer,
And a sister’s tears will be blended there;
Oh! ’twill be sweet, ere the heart throb is o’er,
Yo know, when its fountain shall gush no more,
That those it so fondly bas yearned for, will come,
‘To plant the first wild-flower of Spring on my tomb ;
Let me lie where those loved ones can weep over me,
O bury me not in the deep, deep sea!
From infancy I’ve list’d to the well known words,
The free, wild winds and the song of birds, VN AB
I’ve thought of home, of cot and bower, (aed Es
And of scenes I loved in childhood’s hour. COHTS «
I’ve ever hoped to be laid when I died, (: ae
In the graveyard there by the green hill side, F 2
By the bones of my father, my grave shall be, Karl Ro
‘‘Oh, bury me not in the deep, deep sea.” Oey
«« And there is another, her tears would be shed iafe) 5
For him who lay far ina cold ocean bed ; (Ne\ &
(ex) 2 ¥
In hours that it pains me to think of now,
She has twined these locksand kissed this brow,
In the hair she wreathed, shall the sea serpent hiss ?
The brow she pressed, shall the cold wave kiss ?
Far the sake of that bright one, who waits for me,
Oh, bury me not in the deep, deep sea!
«She hath been in my dreams,’’—his voice failed there;
They gave no heed to his dying prayer ;
They have lowered him slow o’er the vessel’s side,
And above him has closed the dark cold tide!
Where to dip her wing, the sea-fowl rests,
Where the blue waves dance with their foaming crests,
Where the billows bound, and the winds sport free,—
They have buried him there, in the deep, deep sea!
EERIE
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Oh ! no, we never mention her,
Her name is never heard ;
My lips are now forbid to speak
That once familiar word :
From sport to sport they hurry me
To banish my regret ;
And when they win a smile from me,
They think that I forget.
They bid me seek in change of scene
The charms that others see ;
But were I in a foreign land,
They’d find no change in me.
Tis true that I behold no more
The valley where we met,
T do not see the hawthorn tree ;
But how can I forget?
They tell me she is happy now,
The gayest of the gay ;
They hint that she forgets me ;
But I heed not what they say.
Like me perhaps she struggles
With each feeling of regret :
But if she loves as I have lov’d,
She never can forget.
@ H. DE MARSAN, Successor to J. ANDREWS, Publisher, dealer in i,
f songs and Toy-Books, Paper Dolls &c., 38 Chatham Street, N. Y. %
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Now white folks, I'll sing you a ditty,
Pse from home but dats no pity,
Oh, to praise myself it am ashame,
But Robert Ridley is my name.
CHORUS:
Oh, Bob Ridley ho, Oh, Bob Ridley ho,
Oh, Bob Ridley!! Oh! Oh!! Oh!!!
ROBERT RIDBEY HO!
Oh, white folks I hab crossed de mountains,
How many miles I didn’t count ’em,
Oh, Tse-left de folks at de old plantatien,
And come down here for my education.
Oh, Bob Ridley ho,
De first time dat I eber got a lickin,
Twas down at de forks ob de cotton pickin,
Oh! it made me dance, it made me tremble, |
I golly, it made my eyeballs jingle.
Oh, Bob Ridley ho, &c.
New York City am a mighty fine one,
For beauty and location it aint behind ’em
Oh! de Ladies all look so sweet and gidley,
fj, « Published and sold wholesale and re- , Ss
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“Music published and for sale by W. Hall & Son,
ee ee 239 Broadway.
Far, far in many lands F’ve wander’d,
Sadly and lone, *
My heart was ever turning southward,
To all the dear ones at home ;
Here, after all my weary roaming,
At early dawn,
Ive come and find the cot still standing,
But, oh, the oLD FOLKs are gone.
CHORUS,
Here I wander sad and lonely,
In the dear old home,
Those that | loved so well and fondly-—
All, all the old folks are gone.
Here’s where | frolick’d with my brother
Under the tree,
Here’s where I knelt beside my mother,
From care and sorrow free; ,
Still sing the little birds as sweetly,
At night and morn,
Still runs the little brook as fleetly,
But O, the old foiks are gone.
Here I wander sad and lonely, &c.
Down where the old banana’s waving,
They’re laid to rest,
Where Swanee’s peaceful water’s laving
The green turf o’er their breast 5
But there’s a home I know, where parting
Never can come;
Oh, for that home I must be starting,
There’s where the old folks are gone.
Here I wander sad and lonely, &c.
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dwelt,
Where a child at the feet af my mother I knelt,
Where she taught We the pray’r where she read me <
the page, P
‘Which if infancy lisps is the solace of age,
My heart ’mid all changes, wherever I roam,
Ne’er loses its love for the old house at home. ,
*T was not for the splendor that dwelling was dear,
"Twas not that the proud or the noble was near, CARS
O’er the porch the gay wild rose and woodbine en- x Me
twin’d, »
And the sweet scented jessamine waved on the wind,
Yet dearer to me the proud turrets or dome,
Were the halls of my fathers the old house at home.
Sie
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Oh, the North and South they have fell out,
2 And can’t tell what it’s all about,
Away, away in Charleston, South Carolina.
Oh, never mind, they’ll make it right,
For they havnt courage, either one, to fight
Away, away, in Charleston, South Carolina,
So let them go it while they are young,
Away, away,
In South Carolina sultry clime,
Where the nigger he is bound to shine,
Away, away in Charleston, South Carolina. | Repeat.
Now all good patriots, to a man,
Come rally around, and save your land. :
Away, away in Charleston, South Carolina.
Oh, Anderson is in Fort Sumpter now,
And if they get him out, there’ll be a row,
Away, away in Charleston, South Carolina.
Then I wish I was in Fort Sumpter,
To-day, to-day.
Old Davis, he would have to pray
For Abe to save him without delay.
Away, away in Charleston, South Carolina.
(Repeat.
Our baby President, old Buchanan,
He got scared at the Palmetto Banner,
Away, away Charleston, South Carolina.
So Sam and Scott and two three others,
Sent him home to see his mother,
Away, away in Charleston, South Carolina.
Now wasn’t he a pretty man,
To stand, to stand
And let them fire into our ships,
And never open his infant lips.
Away, away te them in South Carolina. (Repeat.
When he got home he told his mother,
If he only had a brother,
Away, away in Charleston, South Carolina,
If he should do as he had done,
He'd send him home to kingdom come,
Away, away in Charleston, South Caroline ;
Qh, isn’t he repenting good,
Hooray, hooray, ,
For by his country, he should have stood,
And tried to do a little good,
Away, away in Charleston, Seuth Carolina (Repeat.
Now the Union must and shall be saved,
The stars and stripes o’er it must wave, .
Away, away in Charlestown, South Carolina,
Qld Abe is up and so’s his muscle,
Golly, won't he make them hussle,
Away, away in Charleston, South Carolina,
Then I wish I wasin Charleston,
To-day, to-day,
‘To see the fun, and see them run,
If you at them point a gun,
Away, away in Charleston, South Carolina,
(Repeat.
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And o’er the ocean’s bosom fly,
While roaring waves each other whelm,
The hardy pilot takes the helm.
He puts to sea, resolved to save,
Or perish in the briny wave. |
_ The signal of distress he hears,
And to the foundering vessel steers;
He loudly hails the exhausted crew.
- Who, cheered by him, their toils renew,
And bless the pilot come to save,
Or perish in the briny wave.
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His steady order all obey;
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Pursues, the pilot bent to save, .
Or perish in the briny wave.
With anxious care her course they keep; %
She struggling rides the angry deep:
In smoother water soon she sails;
The crew huzza, then warmly hails
The hardy pilot bent to save,
Or perish in the briny wave.
EVER OF THEE.
As Sung By John Hasset.
— 8
Ever of thee I’ am fondly dreaming,
Thy gentle voice my spirit can cheer;
Thou wert the star that mildly beaming,
Shone o’er my pat h when all was dark and drear;
Still in my heart thy form I cherish;
Every kind thought, like a bird, flies to thee: '
Oh oh! never, till life and memory perish,
Can I forget how dear thou art to me:
Morn, noon and night, wherever I may be,
Fondly Iam dreaming ever of thee.
Ever of thee, when sad and lonely,
Wandering afar, my soul joyed to dwell;
Ah then, I felt I loved thee only;
All seemed to fade before affection’s spell;
Years have not chilled the love I cherish;
True as the stars hath my heart been to thee.
Oh oh! never, till life and memory perish,
Can I forget how dear thou art to me:
Morn, noon and night, wherever I may be,
Fondly I am dreaming ever of thee.
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| Sung by J.Carroll. with tremendous applause, at White's §
- celebrated Band of Minstrels, 53 Bowery, N.Y.
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"T was just one year ago to-day,
_ That I remember well,
Isat down by poor Nelly’s Side
_A story she did tell;
*Twas about a poor unhappy slave
That lived for many a year,
But now he’s dead and in his grave,
No master does he fear.
CHORUS.
The poor old slave has gone to reast,
We now that he is free,
Disturb him not but let him rest
’Way down in Tennessee.
She took my arm, we walked along
Into an open field,
And here she paused te breathe awhile,
Then to his grave did steal.
She sat down by that little mound,
And softly whispered there,
Come to me, father, ’tis thy child,
Then gently dropped a tear.
The poor old slave, &c.
But since that time how things have changed,
Poor Nelly that was my bride,
Islaid beneath the cold grave sod,
With her father by her side,
I planted there upon her grave,
The weeping willow tree,
I bathed its roots with many a tear,
That it might shelter me.
The poor old slave, &o.
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VU tell you of a eine at Wulpotied — AO,
When the English came to America, I s*pose you all know,
They could'nt whip the yankees, I'll tell you the reason why,
Uncle Sam made ’em sing Root Hog or Die.
‘
John Bull sent to Boston, as you shall ee Bee,
ti Forty large ships loaded clear up with tea
The yankees wouldnt pay the tea tax, 7 it tell you the reason wiry,
The yankee boys made ’em sing, Root Hog or Die.
y first met our armies on the top of Bunker Hill,
When it came to fighting I guess they got their fill,
5 The yankee boys chased ’vim off, PI tell you the reason why,
The yankee boys made ’em sing Root Hog or Die.
Then they met our Washington at Yorktown,
There the yankees mowed ’em down like grass from the ground
Old Cornwallis gave up his sword, PH tell you the reason why,
General Wacliiagton made “em sing Rus Hog or Die.
‘Then they came to Baltimore forty years ago, .
They tried to take North Point, but found it wouldnt go,
The Baltimoreans chased ‘em off, VIL tell vou the reason why,
The yankee boys made ’em sing Root Hog or Die.
\ Now Johnny Bull has been kicking up a fuss,
' He’d better keep quiet or he’ll surely make it worse,
We’re bound to have Cuba, Vil tell you the reason why,
For Uncle Sam will make ’em sing Root Hog or Die.
Q Published ay os at eas sa retail, by i -PECKILAM,
dealer in Watches, Clocks, Jewelry. &c., No. 187 Essex
a teret Salem, Mass.
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‘ ays Uhalolae,
OK I went acourtin’ Rosa Lee,
Ulalolae.
Eyes as dark as winter night,
Lips as red as berry bright,
When first I did her wooing go,
She said, “* Now don’t be foolish, Joe !””
Uhaliolae,
Courtin down in Tennessee,
Ulhialiolae,
“Neath de wild persimmon tree.
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Ulhaliolao,
Breff as sweet as sugar cane,
Ulialiolae,
Feet as large and comely too,
Might make a cradle ob eaeh shoe,
Rosa, take me for your beau;
She said, ‘*‘ Now don’t’be foolish, Joe!”
Ulaholae,
Courtin down in Tennesse,
Uhalholae,
*Neath de wild persimmon tree.
My story yet is to be told,
Uhaholae,
Rosa cotch’d a shocking,
Ulialiolae.
Send de doctor, fetch de nurse,
Doctor come, but made her worse,
I tried to make her laugh, but no—
She said, ‘* Now don’t be foolish Joe!”
Ulhaliolae,
Courtin down in Tennessee, &c.
Dey guv her up, no power could save,
Ulialiolae,
She ax me follow to her grave,
Ulaliolae,
I took her hand, ’twas cold as deff,
So cold I hardly draw my breff,
She saw my tears in sorrow flow,
And said, ‘‘ Farewell my dearest Joe!”
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On the distant Prairie, where the heather wild
In its beauty lived and smiled,
Stands a little cottage, and the creeping vine
Loves around its porch to twine ;
In that peaceful dwelling was a lovely child,
With her blue eyes beaming soft and mild,
And the wavy ringlets of her flaxen hair,
aH (7, Floating in the summer air.
J Se
: . CHORUS.
3 y
[xed Fair as a lily, joyous and free,
- ey Light of that Prairie home was she,
(3 we) Every one who kuew her felt the gentle power
} if) Of Rosalie, the Prairie flower.
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& | On that distant Prairie, when the days were long
F ih ‘Tripping like a fairy, sweet her song,
a yYrN With her sunny blossoms, and the birds at play,
: Gee] Beautiful and bright as they ;
3 ol) : When the twilight shadows gathered in the weat,
mo) \/9\, And the voice of nature sank to rest,
2/ (fe) Like a cherub kneeling seemed the lovely child
3 Bee) With her gentle eyes so mild.
(sf) Fair as a lily, &e.
4 xe But the summer ended, and the chilly blast,
3 (fe O’er that peaceful cottage swept at last!
9 (te) When the autumn song birds woke the dewy morn,
A ; Little Prairie flower was one.
83 (te For the angels whispered softly in her ear,
s Be Child, thy Father calls thee, stay not here;
es ae And they gently bore her robed in spotless white,
i) ‘fo their peaceful home of light.
Fair as alily, &.
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On the distant prairie, where the heather wild
In its quiet beauty lived and smil’d,
Stands a little cottage, and a creeping vine
Loves arouud its porch to twine;
In that peaceful dwelling was a lovely child,
With her blue eyes beaming, soft and mild,
And the wavy ringlets of the flaxen hair,
Floating in the summer air.
CHORUS.
Fair as a lilly, joyous and free,
Light of that prairie home was she.
Every one who knew her, felt the gentle power.
Of Rosalie the prairie flower.
On the distant prairie, when the days were long,
Tripping like a fairy, sweet her song,
With the sunny blossoms and the birds at play,
Beautiful and bright as they:
When the twilight shadows, gathered in the west,
And the voice of nature sunk to rest,
Like a cherub kneeling seemed the lovely child,
With her gentle eyes so mild.
But the summer faded, and a chily blast
O’er that happy cottage swept at last,
When the autumn song birds woke the dewy morn,
Little prairie flower was gone:
For the angels whispered softly in her ear,
‘Child, thy father calls thee; stay not here;
And they gently bore her, robed in spotless white,
To their blissful home of light.
J. Andrews, Pr
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Music of this song can be obtained at Firth Pond & Co’s., @
Franklin Square, N.Y., Extensive Music Publishers.
Soft be thy slumbers,
Rude cares depart !
Visions in numbers
Cheer thy young heart !
Dream on while bright hours
And fond hearts remain,
Blooming, like smiling bowers,
For thee, Ellen Bayne.
CHORUS.
Gentle slumbers o’er thee glide,
Dreams of beauty round thee bide,
While I linger by thy side,
Sweet Ellen Bene
Dream not in anguish,
Dream not in fear,
Love shall not languish—
Fond ones are near,
Sleeping or waking,
In pleasure or pain,
Warm hearts will beat for thee,
Sweet Ellen Bayne.
Scenes that have vanished,
Smile on thee now—
Pleasures, once banished,
Play round thy brow—
Forms, long departed,
Greet thee again,
Soothing thy dreomning heart,
Sweet Ellen Bayne!
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Who has not seen Kitty Clyde,
Be lives at the foot of the hill,
In a’sly little nook, by the babbling brook,
That carries her father’s own mill.
Who does not love Kitty Clyde!
_ That sunny eyed, rosy cheeked lass,
With a sweet dimple chin, that’s as rougish as sinx—
And always a smile as you pass.
CHORUS.
Dear Kitty, sweet Kitty, my own sweet Kity Clyde
In a little nook, by the babbling brook,
Lives my own sweet Kitty Clyde.
With a basket her fish to put in,
Every morning w th line and with hook,
This sweet little lass, through the tall heavy grass,
Steals along by the clear running brook.
She throws a line into the water,
And trips it along the brook side,
Oh, how I do wish, that f was a fish,
To be caught by sweet Kitty Clyde!
Dear Kitty, sweet Kitty, &e.
How I wish that I was a bee—
I’d not gather honey from flowers,
But would steal a sweet sip, from sweet Katy’s lip,
And build my own hive in her bowers.
Or if that I was a bird,
I'd not build my nest in the air,
But keep alose by the side, of sweet Kity Clyde,
And sleep in her soft silken hair.
Dear Kitty, sweet Kitty, ne
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. [s THE SWORD OF
[; BUNKER HELL.
By permission of H. Torman, Washington Street,
owner of Copyright.
7 7 1
He lay upon his dying bed,
His eye was growing dim,
When with a feeble voice he called
His weeping son to him.
“Weep not, my boy,” the veteran said,
‘««l bow to Heaven’s high will;
But quickly from yon antlers bring
The Sword of Bunker Hill.”’
iw
The sword was brought, the soldier’s eye
Lit with a sudden flame, 5
And as he grasped the ancient blade,
He murmured Warren’s name; ‘ts
Then said, ‘‘ My boy, I leave you gold,
But what is richer still,
I leave you, mark me, mark me now,
The Sword of Bunker Hill.
«?T was on that dread, immortal day,
I dared the Briton’s band, i$ :
A captain raised this blade on me,
I tore it from his hand;
And while the glorious battle raged,
It lightened Freedom’s will,
For, boy, the God of Freedom blessed
The Sword of Bunker Hill.
‘Oh, keep the sword!” his accents broke,
A smile, and he was dead,
But his wrinkled hand still grasped the blade
Upon that dying bed.
The son remains, the sword remains,
Its glory growing still,
And twenty millions bless the sire
And Sword of Bunker Hill.
Sold at Wholésaleby
HORACE PARTRIDGE,
Importer, Wholesale and Retail Dealer in
Fancy Qoods, Toys, Watches, Jewelry, Yankee Notions, Beads, &c.,
Boston.
Wo. 27 Hanover Street.
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To the west! to the west ! to the land of the free,
Where the mighty Missouria rolls down to the sea,
Where a man is a man if he is willing to toil,
And the humblest may gather the fruits of the soil,
Where children are blessings, and he who hath most.
Has aid to his fortune, and riches to boast; ._.
Where the young may exult, and the aged may rest,
Away, far away, to the land of the west.
QGQHORUES,
To the west ! to the west! to the land of the free,
Where the mighty Missouria rolls down to the sea,
Where the young may exult and the aged may rest,
Away, far away, to the land of the west !
To the west ! to the west ! where the rivers that flow,
Run thousands of miles, sparking outas they go,
“Where the green waving forests shall echo our call,
As wide as old England, and free to ns all !
Where the prairies, like seas where the billows have roll’d, 4s
Are broad as the kingdoms and empires of old ; Z
And the lakes are oceans in storms or in rest—
Away, far away, to land of the west !
To the west, to the west, &c.
To the west, to the west, there is wealth to be won;
A forest to clear is the work to be done:
We'll try it—we’ll do it—and never despair,
While there’s light in the sunshine, or life in the air,
The bold independence that labor shall buy,
Shall strengthen our hearts, and forbid us to sigh ;
Away, far away, let us hope for the best !
For a home is a home, in the land of the west !
To the west, to the west, &c.
Bh Andrews, Printer. 38 Chatham St., V. ¥., Dealer in Songs Toy
7 Books, Motto Verses, &c., Wholesale and Retail.
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To the west! to the west ! to the land ofthe free,
Where the mighty Missouria rolls down to the sea,
Where a man is a man if he is willing to toil,
And the humblest may gather the fruits of the soil,
Where children are blessings, and he who hath most...
Has aid to his fortune, and riches to boast;
Where the young may exult, and the aged may rest,
Away, far away, to the land of the west.
GHORUE,
To the west ! to the west! to the land of the free,
Where the mighty Missouria rolls down to the sea,
Where the young may exult and the aged may rest,
Away, far away, to the land of the west!
To the west ! to the west ! where the rivers that flow,
Run thousands of miles, sparking outas they go,
“Where the green waving forests shall echo our call,
As wide as old England, and free to ns all!
Where the prairies, like seas where the billows have roll’d,
Are broad as the kingdoms and empires of old ;
And the lakes are oceans in storms or in rest—
Away, far away, to land of the west !
To the west, to the west, &e.
To the west, to the west, there is wealth to be won;
A forest to clear is the work to be done:
We'll try it—we’ll do it—and never despair,
While there’s light in the sunshine, or life in the air,
The bold independence that labor shall buy, _
Shall strengthen our hearts, and forbid us to sigh ;
Away, far away, let us hope for the best !
For a home is a home, in the land of the west !
To the west, to the west, &e.
Books, Motto Verses, &c., Wholesale and Retail.
a at TOO At IIAP ATI A LATTE na OO Saar
+» Andrews, Printer. 38 Chatham St., V. Y., Dealer in Songs Toy
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Twinkling stars are laughing, love,
Laughing on you and me,
While your bright eyes look in mine,
Peeping stars they seem to be;
Troubles come and go, love,
Brightest scenes must leave our sight.
But the star of hope, love,
Shines with radiant beams to-night.
CHORUS.
Twinkling stars are laughing, love,
Laughing on you and me,
While your bright eyes look in mine,
Peeping stars they seem to be.
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Golden beams are shining, love
Shining on you to bless,
Like the queen of night, you fill
Darkest space with loveliness.
Silver stars how bright, love,
Mother moon in thronely might,
Gaze on us to bless, love,
Purest vows here made to.night.
CHORUS.
Twinkling stars are laughing, love,
Laughing on you and me,
While your bright eyes look in mine,
Peeping stars they seem to be.
| Published a sold wholsiels & ‘seta by GEO. Ww. PECKHAM,
Salem, Mass. All the New Songs always on hand.
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THINAK cRO
Now darkies, I will tell you,
Ob a most unlucky fate.
Dat happen’d to a color’d gal
From ole Kentucky state :
De subject ob my story
Is about one Dinah Crow,
Who was drown’d and den found dead
In de ribher O hi-o.
CHORUS.
Oh unlucky Dinah Crow!
Oh unlucky Dinah Crow!
Who was drown’d and den found dead,
In de ribber O-hi-o.
On a bery cloudy morning,
When de wind war radder high,
Oh, stormy war de wedder,
And rainy war de sky!
She got aboard de horse-boat,
To cross de O-hi-o,
But fell into de ribber ! —
Poor, unlucky Dinah Crow!
Oh unlucky Dinah Crow, ete.
De darkies all did mourn her loss —
They'd neber see her more !
They got a cotton handkerchief,
Dat floated on de shore !
Dey held an inquest on de body,
About de poor gal’s deff;
De verdict ob de jury war,
‘She drown’d—for want of breff!
Oh unlucky Dinah Crow, ete.
Published and sold, Wholesale and
Retail, by JOSHUA PECKHAM,
Dealer in Watches, Clocks, Jewelry,
etc., 187 Essex Street, Salem, Mass.
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Vitae INS
AND HiS DINAH,
Or, the Cup of Cold Pison,
/ Sung nightly by CHARLEY WHITE, with shouts of Ap-
plause, at 49 Bowery, N. Y.
*Tis of a rich merchant who in London did dwell,
He had but one daughter, an unkimmon nice young gal,
Her name—it was Dinah, scarce sixteen years old,
With a very large fortune in silver and gold,
Singing, to la lol la rol lall to ral lal la,
As Dinah was a valiking the garden one day,
Her papa he came to her, and thus he did say,
“ Go dress yourself, Dinah, in gorgcvus array,
And take yourself a husband, both gallant and gay.”
~
Singing, &c.
“ Oh papa, oh papa, I’ve not made up my mind,
And to marry just yet, why I don’t feel inclined,
To you my large fortune I’ll gladly give o’er,
If you'll let me live single a year or two more.”
Singing, &c.
“ Go, go boldest daughter,” the parent replied,
“If you wont consent to be this here young man’s bride,
Ill give your large fortune to the nearest of kin,
And you shant reap the benefit of one single pin.”
Singing, &c.
As Vilikins was valiking the garden around,
He spied his dear Dinah laying dead upon the ground
And the cup of cold pison, it lay by her side,
With « billet-doux a stating ’twas by pison she died,
Singing, &e.
He kissed her cold corpus a thousand times o’er,
And called her his Dinah though she was no more,
Then swallowed the pison like a lovyer so brave,
And Villikins and his Dinah lie both in one grave.
Singing, &c.
MORAL,
Now all you young maidens take warning by her,
Never not by no means disobey your governor,
And all you young fellows, mind who you claps eyes on,
Think of Vilikins and Dinah and the ¢ up of cold pison.
Singing, &c.
~ Published and Sold,yWholesale and Retail, by JOSHUA PECKHAM,
L | Dealer in Watches, Ciocks, Jewelry, &c., 187 Essex Street, Salem, Mass.
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WE HAVE LIVED
a
Loved Together:
We have lived and loved together,
Thro’ many changeing years,
We have shared each other’s pleasure,
And wept each other’s tears.
I have never known a sorrow,
That was long unsooth’d by thee,
For thy smiles can make a summer,
Where darkness elfe would be. .
Like the leaves that fall around us,
In autums fading hours,
Are the traitor smiles that darken,
When the cloud of sorrow low’rs.
And tho’ many such we’ve known, love,
Too prone, alas! to range,
We both can speak of one, love,
Whom time can never change.
We have lived and loved together,
Thro’ many changeing years—
We have shared each other’s pleasure,
And wept cach other’s tears. ©
And let us licpe, the future,
As the past has been, will be;
I will share with the thy sorrows,
And thou thy joys with me. uc
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I wore my bridal robe, and I rivalled’its whiteness,
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; S He smiled and whispered low, as I once used to hear him; or
| We met,—’twas in a crowd—and I thought he would shun me; 1)
j He call’d me by my name—as the bride of another—
Oh, thou hast been the cause of this anguish, my mother!
He came—I could not breathe, for his eye was upon me;
gj 1 spoke—his words were cold, and his smile was unaltered; Q ww)?
=¢3 I knew how much he felt, for his deep-toned voice faltered. 2 >
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And once again we met—and a fair girl was near hjm,
She leaned upon his arm—once ’twas mine, and mine only— | | :
I wept—for I deserved to feel wretched and lonely. BC
And she will be his bride! at the altar he’ll give Pe »
3 The love that was too pure for a heartless deceiver.
( The world may think me gay, formy feelings T smother—
&, Oh, thou hast been the cause of this ee my mother.
And now altho’ he’s given those vows to another—
His heart will be mine, still will throb for no other; \
j And she who hung upon his arm, which was mine and mine only,} )
4 For him has no charms, he’ll be wretched and lonely— 4
¢> Farewell to thee—wkom this heart only cherished, *
% Oh, say you forgive, ere I lay down and perish.
When you pause o’er my grave—and your feelings you smother—}
Forgive, as I now do, oh, forgive my poor mother.
Andicsins?, Printer, 38 Chatham St, NV. Y., Dealer in Songs, Games,
Toy Books, Motto Verses, &c., Wholesale and Retail.
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Written and composed by W.Percival,in answer
to ‘Good Bye,” sung nightly at Buckley’s,
539 Broadway.
———_(1a->__—
When friend from triend is doomed to stray
And glist’ning is each eye,
When lips with trembling accents say,
The last fond words—‘‘Good-Bye ,”
One thought still cheers the drooping heart,
And soothes the bosom’s pain,—
That though in sorrow we depart,
In joy we meet again.
The wand’rer, far from those he loves,
And all his heart holds dear,
Oft ling’ring as he onward roves,
To check the rising tear—
When thoughts of home, and by gone days
Came crowding o’er his brain, |
How sweet the voice within, that says,
‘Hope on—we meet again.”
And when we near the bed of death,
We'll watch life’s less’ning ray
While as we gaze, the feeble breath,
Is fleeting fast away.
In that dark hour of bitter woe,
When tears are all in vain,
Calm o’er the soul, these words shall flow,
‘In heaven we meet again.”
m@ Andrews, Printer, 38 Chatham St, N. ¥., Dealer in Songs, Canes 4% \ }
i Toy Books, Motto Verses, &c., Wholesale and Retail. ¥
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WITHOUT A
MOTHEL
BY ALICE HAWTHORN.
Music of this song can be obtained at Firth Pond & Co’s.,
Franklin Square, N.Y , Extensive Music Publishers.
What is home without a mother,
What are all the joys we meet,
When her loving smile no longer,
Greets the coming, coming of our feet ;
The days seems long, the nights are drear,
And time rolls slowly on ;
And oh how few are childhood’s pleasures,
When her gentle cares are gone,
Things we prize are first to vanish;
Hearts we love to pass away,
And how soon e’en in our childhood,
We behold her turning, turning grey,
Her eye grows dim, her step is slow,
Her joys of earth ‘are past ;
And sometimes ere we learn to know her,
She has breathed on earth, on earth her last.
Older hearts may have their sorrows,
Grief that quickly dies away,
But a mother lost in childhood,
Grieves the heart, the heart from day to day ;
We miss her kind, her willing hand.
Her fond and earnest care ;
And oh! how: dark is life around us,
What is home without, without her there.
A gt P Sackson, Printer, 190 . Houston Street.
.
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MISSED YOU.
———__— +
BY THE HIGHLY POPULAR AUTHOR
STEPHEN C. FOSTER.
The Music of this Beautiful Song can be obtained at the Music
Store of Firth Pond & Co., 547 Broadway, N. Y,
ee eB te
Oh! Willie, is it you, dear, safe, safe at home ?
They did not tell me true, dear, they said you would not come,
I heard you at the gate, and it made my heart rejoice,
For I knew that welcome footstep, and that dear familiar voice,
Making music on my ear in the lonely midnight gloom,
Oh, Willie , we have missed you—welcome, welcome home,
We’ve longed to see you nightly, but this night of all ;
The fire was blazing brightly, and lights were in the hall,
The little ones were up ’till twas ten o'clock and past,
Then their eyes began to twinkle, and they’ve gone to sleep at last ;
But they listened for your voice till they thought you’d never come,
Oh Willie, we have missed you—wekome, welcome home.
The days were sad without you, the nights long and drear,
My dreams have been about you, oh, welcome, Willie dear,
Last night I wept and watched, by the moonlight’s cheerless ray,
Till I thought I heard your footstep, then I wiped my tears away,
But my heart grew sad again, when I found you had not come ;
Ob, Willie, we have missed you—welcome, welcome home,
Andrews, Printer, 38 Chatham St, WV. Y., Dealer in Songs, Games
Toy Book Mottos, Verses, Valentines, &c
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THEN
Let us
With all my soul thenlet us part,
Since both are anxious to be free.
If thou wilt send me back my heart,
Why, I will send Traine back to thee !
We have passed some happy hours together,
While time was ever on the wing,
Spring would be but gloomy, gloomy weather,
Ifthere was nothing else but spring.
Say, O say not this to me,
That both are anxious to be free ;
Tnou dost but little know the heart,
That beats, that beats alone for thee!
Oh, thus it is affections wither—
Like autumn leaves—so is thine—
A heart both false and fickle ever !
But oh, thou canst not send back minz!
TAKE BACK THOSE GEMS.
Take back those gems so proudly worn,
Those pearls, and chains of gold,
They mock a heart so wreck’d, forlorn,
Whose hopes are dead and cold.
You think it but a vision gone,
A sorrow, as the wind,
Disturbs yon lake, when ‘rushing on,
It leaves no trace behind.
You think I soon shall join the young,
The gay, the happy few,
Who o’er life's dance sweet joys hath flung,
A robe of brightest hue.
Alas! you little know my heart,
Which like yon violets lie,
Just risen from their stem to part,
Bloom’d only but to die.
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COLLECTION
oe
AS SUNG BY NED BENNETT.
Words by permission of Oliver Ditson.
I was born in New Jersey one morning last summer,
I got a despatch that my uncle was dead,
It also requested I should come to the city
He left me a large sum of money t’was said ;
Of course I determined to go on my journey,
To go by the very first cars I was fain,
But had I laid over I ne’er should encountered
That charming young widow I met on the train
The widow and I side by side sat together,
The seat contained but us two and no more,
Till silence was broken by my fair companion
Inquiring the time by the watch that I wore ;
I of course satisfied her and then conversation,
Was freely indulged by us both till my brain,
Fairly reeled with excitement I got so enchanted
With the charming young widow [ met on the train.
By this time the cars had arrrived at the station,
Within a few miles of this great busy town,
When my fair one exclaimed as she loooked through
the window
Good gracious alive why there goes Mr. Brown;
He’s my late husband’s brother say will you so
kindly,
Consent a few moment’s my child to maintain,
Of course I consented and away from the platform
Tripped the charming young widow I met on the train.
Three minutes elapsed and the signal bell sounded,
The carg began moving no widow appéared,
Leried out stopt stop! bagbe paid no attention _
With » snort and a jerk started off as I feared ;
In this horrid dilemma I sought for the hour,
My watch, oh where was it, oh where was my chain,
My purse too, my ticket, golden pencil case, gone sir,
And so had the widow I met on the train.
While 1 was my loss most deeply bewailing,
The conductor came forward,your ticket, please heard,
I told him my story while dancing the baby
The loss I sustained but he doubted my word ;
He called more officials they gathered around me,
Uncovered the baby how shall [ exclaim,
Alas t?was no baby it was only a rag one
That swindling young widow | met on the train.
Satisfied I’d been robbed I took my departure,
But of course I’d to settle my fare the next day,
So now I’ll advise all young men from the country
Don’t ever get caught in a similar way ;
Beware of young widows who dress in deep mourning,
Who ride in the cars and their tears flow like rain,
Look out for your pockets in case they resemble
That charming young widow I met on the train.
——
THE CHARMING YOUNG WIDOW. “I'LLSAIL THE SEAS OVER FOR THEE.”
To-morrow our parting must be ;
T'll sail the seas over for thee.
And cheer me where’er [ may go,
CHorv s—Good-by, Annie, darling,
I go, for thy sake far away ;
And cheer me with blessings, [ pray.
As over the waters [ roam ;
Bue hasten again tomy home. as
My. heart on its purpose Sill bent ;
In knowing that thou art content.
Jig sad that our parting must be,
To sail the seas over for thee.
HARD TIMES iN OLD VIRGINNY.
My : yp | a ve I\
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YN Wa i M 1 y)
i Wi)
tat
PD CHOOSE TO BE A BABY.
AS SUNG BY MARTZ AND BENNDTT. AS SUNG BY NED BENNETT.
By permission of Sep. Winner, Philadelphia,
Cheer up, Annie, darling,
With hopeful emotion,
Words by permission of G. D. Russel & Co., Boston,
I’d choose to be a baby,
A darling little flower,
Without a care or sorrow,
As I was in childhood’s hour,
When ladies—Heaven bless them—
They’d kiss me and they’d vow
That they could almost eat me.
Why don’t they do it now?
Vl sail the seas over,
I'll cross the wide ocean, |
I will not forget thee,
Ab never, no never, ee
I cannot forget thee, I know;
Thy smile, like a phantom,
CGuorus—l’d choose to be a baby,
Shall haunt me-forever, : z
A darling little fiower,
: For the girls to kiss and cuddle me,
F As they did in childhood’s hour.
Break off from thy sorrow,
T’is sad that our parting must be,
T’ll sail the seas over,
V1l cross the wide ocean,
T’ll sail the seas over for thee,
When | used to be a baby
They’d to my cradle creep,
They’d kiss, and hug and cuddle me
Till I fell off to sleep ;
Yes, they’d kiss and squeeze me too,
Till I felt anyhow ;
They’d even wash and dress me,
epee sg lbaaraget Why don’t they do it now?
But leave thee in sorrow,
For pleased they were to nurse me—
They would take me on their lap,
And would stuff my little belly full
Of lollypop and pap ;
They would chew me tops and buttons,
4 And, if I made a row,
ll tarry not darling, ; Z They’d press me to their bosoms.
And leave thee all lonely, ik oy Why don’t they do it now?
aa ao the lad?es used to love me a
iW . hey would make me nice clothes,
They would make me nice morocco shoes,
And wipe my little nose;
And when the shades of evening came,
And sleep came o’er my brow,
And said « It’s time to go to bed,”
But they never say so now!
Then bid me good-by,
With a smile on the morrow,
I’ll think of thee ever,
And pray for thee only,
Out, out on the ocean,
Away o’er the billow
My brow shall find rest,
When [ seek my lone pillow,
Cheer up, Annie, darling,
Break off from thy sorrow,
But give me thy smile,
When [I leave thee to-morrow,
THE GRAVE OF CARRIE LEE,
AS SUNG BY MARTZ AND BENNET.
(Ohorus.)
Tey made her a grave in the wildwood shade
ere the trees gently wave in their bloom,
ere the wild birds sing and the soft summer air
ft seas of melody o’er her tomb ; ;
Jjis there little Carrie lies sleeping in death
e pride of the village was she,
d there’s many friends that now sadly weep
@er the grave of our own Carrie Lee.
CHorvs.
eep let her sleep in the grave we have made
MARTZ‘S ORLGINAL COMIO BANJO soLo,
Away down in old Virginney
Dare [ hear de fiiddie ring,
And all de time its niggers finger
Pickin’ on de banjo string.
I get up in de morning
An I go into de kitchen,
To get a chunk a fire
To go out a fiishin’. Y
Symphony, &c.
‘RIP TEARING JOHNNY'S GONE AWAY.
AS SUNG BY NED BENNETT.
L want to buy two or three eggs
For ’bout a quarter dollar,
Stir up de hominy pot
De pourk is in de seller.
Neighbor lend me your axe
Vl lend you mine to-morrow,
Go long away from me, said he,
Vl neider lend nor borrow.
* Nigger on de hen-coop
He call for glass ob gin,
Dat nigger nearer heben
Dan he eber get agin.
A stray dog come to town
On a load ob peaches,
De hoss run off and broke de cart
And stove him all to pieces.
By permission of G. D. Russel & Co., Boston.
Gh, come listen awhile, you fair ladies of this town,
Te a few words that I’ve got tosay, ‘
Never build your affections on any young man,
For fear he might take and run away,
And then you’d feel like a big sun flower,
Born in the merry month of May.
Ve umatatew dee ue eth a
Rip tearing Johnny’s gone away.
Cuorvs—With my thick lip, crooked stick,
Come again and kiss me quick,
My Rip tearing Johnny’s gone away.
There was King Philips’ daughter, a very nice
Hom the cares of this world she is free,»
Yeep let us weep while tall willows wave
‘@er the grave of our own Corrie Lee
Maey made her a grave in the wild wood shade
Where the violets now bloom in the green,
here nought is heard but the wabbling of birds
ind the babbling brooks are seen ;
o more her sweet voice can re-echo again
+ all hushed now in death she has gone to her
rest
heaven dwells our our own Carrie Lee. (Chorus.)
OLD KING CROW,
COMIC DUET BY MARTZ AND BENNETT.
Oh:ladies and gents I’m going to sing,
It is a fact and that you know,
It came to pass on a very fine day,
It’s something about an old King Crow.
young girl, ‘
And she always kept her eyes round about her.
And she said that young men of prepossessing looks
Always tried young ladies hearts to slaughter ;
And when they would look at you,
From the glimmer of a roguish looking eye,
When they begin to sing,why you’s burst out and ery,
My Rip tearing Johnny’s gone away (Chorus.)
Now all you ladies of the bloomer hat creation,
There is one thing more I’ve got to say, .
Just have a little care how you flirt your hoops
around, 4
For you might accidentally blow yourself away,
And then you’d go away up in the sky,
Like Johnny Sanderson’s baloon.
You’d arrive at California, by de gas-light ob de moon.
Oh, my Rip tearing Johnny’s gone away. (Chorus.)
I am what dey call
IP EECE:, Orr
Sold at Martz’s
horus— Old King Crow,
He’s the biggest thief I know,
He never says nothing but caw! caw! caw !
Den bring along de hoe cake,
Go long don’t you bodder me,
Bring along de hoe cake,
Go long don’t you bodder me,
Bring along de hoe cake soon as itis done,
Once lt had a dog
He never told a story,
When he bark up a tree
De coon was dare shurely,
l up wid my gun
I pull upon de trigger,
Slam bang went de gun
Down fall de nigger.
I went way out in the old corn field,
Something hollered hello Joe,
I look’d way up in a little big tree,
And there I saw de old King Crow. (Chorus.)
My mammy was a wolf
My daddy was a tiger,
tan Lam what dey call
e ole Virginny nigger ;
Half fire, half saokar
A little touch of thunder, Ob apple pie and ginger beer
Makes a nigger feel awful queer,
Apple pie and ginger pap
Make a niggers tip go flipupteflap. (Chorus.)
> 4
De leventeenth wonder
>
_
=S CERES.
Eintertainments.
FADED FLOWERS.
AS SUNG RY MARTZ.
By permission of G. D. Russel & Co., Boston.
Oh the flow’rs that I saw in the wildwood,
Have since drooped their beautiful leaves,
And the many dear friends of my childhood,
Have slumber’d for years in their graves!
Oh, the bloom of the flow’rs I remember,
And the smiles I shall nevermore see; ¢
For the cold chilly mists of December
Stole my flow’rs and companions from me.
The roses may bloom on the morrow
And many.dear friends I have won,
Tho’ my heart it can with but sorrow
When I think of cil that are gone,
Tis no wonder that roken hearted
And stricken with sorrow should be,
For we’ve met and we have parted
The flowers my companions and me.
Oh! how dark looks this world and how dreary,
When we part-with the ones that we love ;
But there’s rest for the faint and the weary,
And friends meet with lost ones above!
And in heaven I can but remember,
When from Earth my proud soul shall be free,
That no chilly winds of December,
Can part my companions from me !
y
SOMEBODY EN DE HOUSE WID DINAH.
COMIC DUETR BY MARTZ AND BENNETT,
Words by permission of G, D. Russell & Co., Boston.
Ole Joe standin’ at de garden gate
He cant get in cause he come too late,
He’s picked up a stone and a poundin at de deor
Ha! ha! ole Joe ye ought to come afore.
(Knocks at the door.) Spoken, who’s dare ?
Joe. What, ole Joe ?— (Sings,) yes ole Joe.
Ole
Cuorus—Ole Joe kickin up ahind and afore
And Dinah’s a peepin’ out behind de door.
(Imitation of a banjo in the distance.)
ere what’s dat? It sounds like a banjo in
de back parlor. Now I would’nt be surprised if
dere was (sings)
Someone in de house wid Dinah
Dares someone in de house I know.
Dares someone in de house wid Dinah,
Playin’ on de ole banjo.
Come out Dinah what you doin dare,
I want de gun to eooot a bear,
Stand back nigger dat game won’t do,
IT tell you come along or [11 hit you wid a shoe.
Knock’s at the door, Banjo in the distance—
dialogues &e. (Chorus.)
WHEN I SAW SWEET NELLIE HOME.
AS SUNG BY MARTZ AND BENNET.
By permission of G. D. Russel & Co., Boston,
In the sky the bright stars glitter’d,
On the grass the moonlight fell,
Hush’d the sound of daylight’s bustle,
Closed the pink-eyed pimpernell,
As down the moss grown woodpath,
Where the cattle love to roam,
From Aunt Pattie’s quilting party
I was seeing Nellie home.
Cuorus—When I saw sweet Nellie home
When I saw sweet Nellie home,
How I bless the August evening,
When [ saw sweet Nellie home.
When the Autumn tinged the greenwood,
Turning all the leaves to gold,
In the lawn by alders shaded,
I my love to Nellie told,
As we stood together gazing,
On the star bespangled dome
How I blessed the August evening,
‘J. A. & B. F. Farwell Printing Office, 112 Washington Street, Boston.
When I saw sweet Nellie home. (Chorus.)
White hairs mingle with my tresses,
Furrows steal upon my brow,
But a love smile cheers and blesses,
Life’s declining moments now.
Matron in a snowy ’kerchief,
Closer to my bosom come,
Tell me dost thou still remember,
When I saw sweet Nellie home, (Chorus.)
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