FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON, D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY / 277 W ashington St., Boston, owners of the copyright. I've lots of trouble and pain through life, And ever am in hot water and strife ! My nose has got such a queer disease, I'm almost dying for having to sneeze ! Chorus — And thus in trouble my life began, And now I am known as the sneezing man ; And thus in trouble my life began, Oh, pity the nose of a sneezing man ! When first a baby in nurse's arms, I went to meeting and caused alarm, The people were roused from slumbering ease, By hearing that pesky infant sneeze ! When next at seven I went to school, To study, to read and write by rule, I saw the children as thick as bees, But they scampered away when they heard me sneeze ! When next my frolicking days came round, A beautiful damsel soon I found, But as the maiden was just the cheese, She fainted away when she heard me sneeze ! " I wish," cried I, to my angel dear, 44 To tell of my love while kneeling here I" But though I was there on my bended knees, It couldn't be done, for I had to sneeze ! The damsel screamed and fell to the floor, In agony wild her hair she tore ! When turning I went like an autumn breeae, Skedaddling off with another sneeze. 44 Bonnie Blue Flag. Copied by permission of S. T. Gokdon, Music Publisher, 538 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. We are a band of patriots, Who each leave home and friend, Our noble constitution And banner to defend ; Our Capitol was threatened, And the cry rose near and far, To protect our country's glorious flag, That glitters with many a star. Chorus — Hurrah, hurrah, for the union, boys, hurrah ! Hurrah for our forefather's good old flag, That glitters with many a star. Much patience and forbearance The North has always shown, Toward her Southern brethren, Who had each way their own ; But when we made our president, A man whom we desired, Their wrath was roused, they mounted guns, And on Fort Sumter fired. (Chorus.) They forced the war upon us, For peaceful men are we, They steal our money, seize our forts, And then as cowards flee ; False to their vows, and to the flag That once protected them, They sought the union to dissolve, Earth's noblest, brighcest gem. (Cho.) 45 We're in the right, and will prevail, The Stars and Stripes must fly, The "bonnie blue flag" be hauled down, And every traitor die ; Freedom and peace enjoyed by all, As ne'er was known before, Our Spangled Banner wave on high, With stars just thirty-four. (Chorus.) Murmuring Sea, Murmuring sea ! beautiful sea ! How I love to list to thy melody, When the winds are still in thy rocky caves, And the sweet stars glance on thy purple waves ; 'Tis then I dream of the distant land, Where I left a loving and joyous band ; Oh, dearer than ever they seem to be, As I muse on the shore of the murmuring sea. Murmuring sea ! beautiful sea ! Oh, dearer than ever they seem to be. As we muse on the shore of the murmuring sea, The murmuring, murmuring sea. Murmuring sea ! beautiful sea ! I no more shall sail o'er thy waters free, But I watch the ships as they fade from wgLt, And my fancy follows their trackless flight, Bounding away to their distant mart, To the land so dear to my lonely heart ; Oh, dearer than ever it seems to be, As I muse on the shore of the murmuring sea. Murmuring sea ! beautiful sea ! etc. 46 Jessie, the Flower o9 Dumblane. The sun has gone down on the lofty Ben Lomond, And left the red clouds to preside o'er the scene; While lonely I stray in the calm summer gloaming, To muse on sweet Jessie, the flower o' Dumblane. How sweet is the briar, wi' its soft foulding blossom, And sweet is the birck wf its mantle o' green ; Yet sweeter and fairer, and dear to this bosom Is lovely young Jessie, the flower o' Dumblane. She's as modest as any, and blithe as she's bonnie, For guileless simplicity marks her its ain ; And far be the villain, divested o' feeling, Who'd blight in its bloom the sweet flower o'Dumblane Sing on, thou sweet mavis, thy hymns to the evening, Thou'rt dear to the echoes 6' Calderwood glen, So dear to this bosom, so artless and winning Is charming young Jessie, the flower o' Dumblane. How lost were my days, till I met wi' my Jessie, The sports of the city seemed foolish and vairj^ I ne'er saw a nymph I could call my dear lassie, Till charmed wi' sweet Jessie, the flower a' Dumblane. Though mine was the station of loftiest grandeur, Amidst its profusion I'd languish in pain ; And reckon as nothing the height o' its splendor, If wanting sweet Jessie, the flower o' Dumblane. I know a Pair of Hazel Eyes. I know a pair of hazel eyes So tender and so bright, That I could sit a livelong day, And gaze upon their light. How would my heart impulsive beat If, when on mine they rove, Those hazel eyes should give to me A single look of love. I know a pair of rosy lips, Whose smile is so divine, _J7 That I would give the world, to press Them fervently to mine. How would my soul' dilate with joy If, when to speak to move, Those rosy lips should say to me A single word of love. I know a pair of snowy arms, And what delight were mine, If roimd my neck one fond embrace Those snowy arms should twine. The look, the word, the fond embrace, So dear to me would prove, That earth, enchanted, would appear A paradise of love. Call Me not Back from the Echoless Shore. Copied by permission of Satttfr & Thompson, Music Publishers, 69 Fulton avenue, Brooklyn, owners of the copyright. Why is your forehead deep furrowed with care ? What has so soon mingled frost in your hair ? Why are you sorrowful? why do you weep? Why do you ask me to rock you to sleep ? Could you but see through this world's vail of tears, Light would your sorrows be, harmless your fears, All that seems darkness to you would be light, All would be sunshine where now is but night. Chorus— Follow me cheerfully, pray, do not weep, In spirit I'll soothe you and rock you to sleep. Why would you backward with time again turti t Why do you still for your childhood's days yearn? Weary one, why through the past again roam, While in the future the path leads you home? Oh, dearest child, diy those tears, weep no more, Call me not back from the echoless shore ; Follow me cheerfully, pray, do not weep, In spirit I'll soothe you and rock you to sleep. Chorus— Follow me cheerfully, pray, do not weep, In spirit Til soothe you and rock you to sle^p, Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby. Sleep, sleep, sleep, oh, sleep. 48 Bingen on the Rhine. A soldier of the Legion Lay dying, at Algiers ; There was lack of woman's nursing, There was dearth of woman's tears ; But a comrade stood before him, While his life-blood ebbed away, And bent with pitying glances To hear what he might say. The dying soldier faltered As he took that comrade's hand, And he said, " I never more shall see My own, my native land ; Take a message and a token To some distant friends of mine ; For I was born at Bingen, Fair Bingen on the Rhine. * Tell my brothers and companions, When they meet and crowd around To hear my mournful story, In the pleasant vineyard ground, That we fought the battle bravely, And when the day was done, 3?ull many a corse lay ghastly pale Beneath the setting sun ; And midst the dead and dying, Were some grown old in wars, The death-wound on their gallant brea^ The last of many scars ; But some were young, and suddenly Beheld life's morn decline, And one had come from Bingen, From Bingen on the Rhine. 49 "Tell my mother that her other sons* Shall comfort her old age ; And I was still a truant bird, That thought his home a cage ; For my father was a soldier, And even as a child My heart leaped forth to hear him tell Of struggles fierce and wild ; And when he died and left us To divide his scanty hoard, I let them take whate'er they would, But kept my father's sword ; And with boyish love I hung it Where the bright light used to shint, On the cottage wall at Bingen, At Bingen on the Rhine. " Tell my sister not to weep for me, And sob with drooping head "When the troops are marching home again, "With glad and gallant tread ; But look upon them proudly, With a calm and steadfast eye, For her brother was a soldier, And not afraid to die. And if a comrade seek her love, I ask her in my name, To listen to him kindly, Without regret or shame, And hang the old sword in its plaoa (My father's sword and mine,) For the honor of old Bingen, Dear Bingen on the Rhine. 50 " There's another, not a sister — In the happy days gone by, You'd have known her by the merriment That sparkled in her eye ; Too innocent for coquetry, Too fond for idle scorning — Oh ! friend, I fear the lightest heart Makes sometimes heaviest mourning ! Tell her the last night of my life — For ere the morn be risen My body will be out of pain, My soul be out of prison — I dreamed I stood with her, And saw the yellow sunlight shine On the vine-clad hills of Bingen, Fair Bingen on the Rhine. I saw the blue Rhine sweep along ; I heard or seemed to hear The German songs we used to sing, In chorus sweet and clear, And down the pleasant river, And up the slanting hill The echoing chorus sounded Through the evening calm and still ; And her glad blue eyes were on me, As we passed with friendly talk, Down many a path beloved of yore, And well-remembered walk ; And her little hand lay lightly, Confidingly in mine — But we'll meet no more at Bingen, Loved Bingen on the Rhine." 51 His voice grew faint and hoarser His grasp was childish weak, His eyes put on a dying look, He sighed and ceased to speak; His comrade bent to lift him, But the spark of life had fled — The soldier of the Legion In a foreign land was dead ! And the soft moon rose up slowly, And calmly she looked down On the red sand of the battle-field "With bloody corses strewn — Yes, calmly on that dreadful scene, Her pale light seemed to shine As it shone on distant Bingen, Fair Bingen on the Rhine. I Know my Mother Weeps for Me. Copied by permission ofSAWTER&THOjrpgox. Music Publishers 69 Fultou avenue, Brooklyn, owners of the copyright. 'Twas on a balmy summer night, As I lay gazing at the stars, And thinking of the hearts once light, That I had left ^o join the wars. And of a mother far away, With step so feeble, cheek so pale, My thoughts then dwelt upon the day I left her, as she said, M Farewell." Choktjs— I know my mother weeps for me, When all the world is hushed in sleep ; Oh, soon may we the hour see, When mother need no longer weep. 52 And as the midnight hour drew near, I fell asleep, and presently I dreamed I saw my mother dear, With open arms to welcome me. She could not speak, but oh, those tears That lingered in her joyful eyes, Bespoke much more, by far, than lip Could utter to her darling boy. I thought she clasped me to her heart, Impressed a kiss upon my brow, And bade her sorrows all depart, For nought but joy is with her now. The daylight broke, and with it came Sadly the truth, 'twas but a dream 1 Dear mother, weep no more in vain, While we our native land redeem. I know my mother weeps for me, When all the world is hushed in sleep ; Oh, soon may we the hour see, When mother need no longer weep. Soon may our glorious stars and stripes, That blood-bought banner of the free, Wave proudly forth from eve^y height, Proclaiming peace and liberty. CHORUS. I know my mother weeps for me, When all the world is hushed in sleep ; Oh, soon may we the hour see, When mother need no longer weep. 33 Kiss Me, Darling, ere we Sever. Copied bv permission of Olivef. Ditson &Cq.% Music Publishers, 277 Washington street. Boston, owners of the copyright. Kiss me, darling, ere we sever, Ere I journey life's bleak plain, For on earth, I never, never, May behold thy face again. But thy smile so sweet and winning, And' thy voice so soft and low, Still shall* keep my heart from sinning, And my soul as pure as snow. I would linger, oh, how gladly, In thy much-loved presence yet, But each moment tells me sadly That 'tis better to forget ; Kot forget thy love and beauty, Xor thy kind and winsome ways, For no blighted hope nor duty Bids me'eease to give them praise. But the hopes I long have cherished, Xow like autumn leaves are sere, Like the flowers of spring they perished, In the springtime of their year. Naught is left me but to sever From the scene of all my pain ; Kiss me, darling, for I never May behold thy face again. The Answer of Ben Bolt. Copied by permission of Lkf: & Walker, Music Publisher*, 722 Chestnut street, Philadelphia, owners of the copyright. Ah, yes. I remember that name with delight, Sweet Alice, so cherished and dear ; I seek her bower in the pale hour of night, And moisten the turf with a tear; And there, when the heart is o'erburdened with woes, I wander and muse all alone, And long for the time when my head shall repose Where u sweet Alice lies under the stone." 54 i I roam through the wood where so joyous we strayed, And recline on the green sunny hill ; All things are as bright in that beautiful glade, But my heart is all lonely and chill. The hand that so fondly I pressed then in mine, And the lips that were melting in love, Are cold in the grave, and I'm left to repine Till I meet with sweet Alice above. All, well I remember the schoolhcuse and brook, " And the master so kind and so true," The wild blooming flowers in the cool, shady nook, So fragrant with incense and dew. But I weep not for these, though so dear to my heart, Nor the friends that have left us alone ; The bosom will heave, and the tear-drops will start, For " sweet Alice lies under the stone." Jennie Junea Copied by permission of Firth, Son & Co., Music Publishers, 563 Broadway, N. Y., owners of the copyright. Did you see dear Jennie June, When the meadows were in tune, With the birds among the bowers In the sweet summer time ? You would love her I am sure, For her heart is warm and pure, And as guileless as the flowers In the sweet summer time. Chorus — Did you see dear Jennie June, etc All the robins cease their song, As she gayly speeds along, Just to listen to her singing In the sweet summer time. And her modest, beaming eyes Are the color of the skies, Many pleasant fancies bringing, Li the sweet summer time. (Chorus.) With my darling Jermie June, When the meadows are in tune, 55 How I love to go a roving, In the sweet summer time. While her presence seems to be Like a ray of light to me, For she's ever fond and loving, In the sweet summer time. (Chorus.) Tell Mother I Die Happy. Copied by permission of S. T. Gordon, Music Publisher 538 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. I am dying, comrades, dying, As you bear me, lightly tread ; Soon, ah, soon I shall be lying With the silent, sleeping dead. I am dying, comrades, dying, Still thebattle rages near, Tell me, are our foes a flying ? I die happy, mother dear. CnOBUS — Tell my mother I die happy, That for me she must not weep ; Tell her how I longed to kiss hec> Ere I sunk in death to sleep. I am going, comrades, going, See how damp my forehead's now, Oh, I see the angels coming, With bright garlands for my brow. Bear this message to my mother, How in death that God was near, He to bless and to support me, I die happy, mother dear. (Cnomjs.) Lay me, comrades, 'neath the willow, That grows on the distant shore ; Wrap the starry flair around me, I would press its folds once more. Let the cold earth be my pillow, And the uStais and Stripes" my shroud, Soon, oh, soon I shall be marching, Amid the heavenly crowd. (Chorus.) Alabama Joe. Copied by permission of Oliver Ditson & C©., Mnsic Publishers, 277 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright. A nigger in Alabama lived, dey used to call him Joe, Dis nigger lived to be so old, his head war white as snow ; Dis nigger, he war very rich, de poor ones liked him well, Dey used to go to de Alabama house, some stories for to tell. CHORUS. An* strike de toe and heel, my lass, an* strike de heel an' toe, Miss Phillis am a waiting for your Alabama Joe. Dis old nigger built a church, a minister he hired, Who stayed wid dem about four years, and quit 'cause he war tired ; Deir minister good salary got, all dese niggers know, De money, it war paid to him by Alabama Joe. Dis made dese niggers all feel bad, to think he sarved him so, But de one de shock fell worst upon was Alabama Joe ; In a few years after dis de good old nigger died, He left three niggers, all he had, and Miss Phillissy, kis bride. His money he did will away to Phillissy, his spouse, Which caused great disturbance at dis old nigger's house; Miss Phillissy had him buried all under an old tree, And after dey had buried him, de niggers had a spree. A nigger in Virginia lived, who heard of old Joe's death, And straight for Alabama steered, and never stopped for breath He quick made love to Phillissy, who was a charming fair, Her eyes were bright as diamonds, and curly war her hair. Dis nigger war a fisherman, a fisherman ob old, A fishing he did go one night and caught a beautiful cold ; Dis nigger lived in great harmony, and age did make him pine, For she was only twenty-three, and he war ninety-nine. Dis story dat I now relate, as a good old nigger said, He went one morning to deir house, and found dis couple dead ; Now Miss Phillissy she is dead, Old Joe he went before, De oder niggers hab gone, too, we shall see dem no more. Love me Little, Love me Long. Say not, life is dark and dreary, While around us flow'rets bloom; All is bright where love abideth, His fond smiles can all illume. Is there not a spell in beauty, Bow we not before her shrine? Is the coldest heart not wakened By the power of song divine? Chokcs — Then no more be sad and weary, When amid the world's cold throng, If thou hear'st one soft voice whisper: "Love me little, love me long." Yes, 'tis love can soothe and cheer us, Down the thorny vale of life; Better far a peaceful cottage, Than a palace full of strife. I am happy while fate leaves me, One kind heart to warmly prize, While the light of pure affection Beams within those gentle eyes. (Cnoacs.) I Love the Merry Sunshine. I love the merry, merry sunshine, It makes the heart so gay, To hear the sweet birds singing On their summer holiday. With their wild-wood notes of duty, From hawthorn, bush and tree, Oh, the sunshine is all beauty — Oh, the merry, merry sun for me. Chorus — I love the meny, merry sunshine, I love the merry, merry sunshine, Thiough the dewy morning's shower, With its rosy smiles advancing, Like a beauty from her bower. It charms the soul in sadness, It sets the spirits free; Oh, the sunshine is all gladness — Oh, the merry, merry sun fur me. 58 Katie Bell, Copied by permission of S. T. Gordon, Music Publisher, 538 Broadway,. New York, owner of the copyright. Going down the shady dell, Where the honeysuckles grow I met lovely Katie Bell, With her dimpled cheeks aglow ; Oh, the beauties of her face, As she flitted by apace, With a step of fairy grace, My poor words can never tell. Cnonus.— Katie Bell, in the dell, How I love her none can tell. All the flowers in the dell Seemed to own her for their queen, Bright and peerless Katie Bell, Fairer flower was never seen. How I loved the very ground Over which she'd lightly bound, With her sunny ringlets crowned, I can never, never tell. (Chorus.) Long I waited in the dell, Where the honeysuckles grow, Waited for sweet Katie Bell, Till the sun was sinking low ; And before I left her side, In the quiet eventide, I had won her for my bride, Won my bonnie Katie Bell. (Chorus.) Oh, I shall wear a Uniform. Copied by permission of Firth, Son & Co., Music Publishers, 5G3 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. Oh, I shall wear a uniform, And march away to war, To bravely meet the enemy, Until the strife is o'er. They say I shall be furnished arms, No legs do they provide, Although they would of service prove If rank and file divide. Chorus. — Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah ! Oh, I shall wear a uniform, And march away to war. Oh, I shall wear a uniform, And soon become renowned, And quartered in the army be, To keep my body sound ; For if I should but single go, I might become in two ; Or, take to legs instead of arms, As foes to freedom do. (Chorus.) Oh, I shall wear a uniform, And be a soldier bold ; I thought it best to get me one, The draft might give me cold. So now I shall be warmly clad, And in convincing style, I'll teach the foe that stars and stripes They never shall defile. (Chorus.) Make Me no Gaudy Chaplet, Make me no gaudy chaplet, Weave it in simple flowers, Seek them in lowly valleys, After the gentle showers. Bring me no dark red roses, Gay in the sunshine glowing ; Bring me the pile moss rose-bud Beneath the fresh leaves growing. Bring not the proud -eyed blossom, Darling of the eastern daughters; Bring me the snowy lily, Floating on silent waters. Gems of the lowly valley, Buds which leaves are shading, Lilies of peaceful wa1 Emblems be mine unlading. 60 HI tell Nobody. Oh, I am in love, but I won't tell with who, For I know very well what the fair ones would do, They'd chatter and flatter, and make themselves fine, So poor little some one would have a sad time. Chorus. — So I'll tell nobody, I'll tell nobody, Nobody, nobody, nobody, no ! If I tell it to one, she will tell it to two, And the next cup of tea they would plot what to do ; And as men have no constancy in their own minds, He'd seek a new face and leave some one behind. But this much I'll tell you, he's not very tall, And lest you should guess him, he's not very small ; I met him last night, and he pikled off my glove, So I think you may guess who is somebody's love. But when I am sure that his heart's all my own, That he loves sincerely, and never will roam, Oh, then I'll defy all their jeers and taunts, For, plainly 'twill show what each of them wants ; They all want somebody, are dying for somebody, Somebody, somebody, I know who, etc. Larry's G-ood-By. Copied by permission of S. T. Gordon, Music Publisher, 538 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. Brave Larry went up to his darling To bid her a speedy good-by, When bound where the cannon was snarling, The fortunes of battle to try. " Sweet Norah," he said, " don't be weeping, I soon will come back to your side, With all your fond love in my keeping, And make you my beautiful bride." A thousand times Larry did kiss her, Before he was willing to go, For now he just felt how he'd miss her, When fronting the ranks of the foe. 61 My heart will be ever the same, love, 41 So, Norah," he whispered, " don't sigh ; I soon will have money and fame, dear, And then a nice farm we will buy." Fair Norah through teardrops was blushing, And spoke between sobbings and sighs, As backward her glossy curls pushing, She timidly looked in his eyes. 44 Dear Larry, you say that you're going To wed when you come from the war ; I'm afraid you'll be killed, there's no knowing, Now, could we not marry before?" Now Larry, how could he refuse her? He saw that he might as well wed, For if he was killed he would lose her, So unto fair Norah he said : 44 Mavourneen, it's truth you've been saying, And where there's a will there's a way ; I see there's no use in delaying, I'll wed you this very same day." Buy a Broom; From Teutschland I come with my light wares all laden To dear, happy Boston, in summer's gay bloom, Then listen, fair lady, and young, pretty maiden, Oh, buy of the wandering Bavarian a broom. Buy a broom, buy a broom, buy a broom, Oh, buy of the wandering Bavarian a broom. To brush away insects that sometimes annoy yon, You'll find it quite handy to use night and "day, And what better exercise, pray, can employ you, Than to sweep all vexatious intruders away. Buv a broom, buy a broom, buy a broom, And sweep all Vexatious intruders away. Ere winter comes on, for sweet home soon departing, My toils for your labors again I'll resume, And while gratitude's tear in my eyelid is starting, Bless the time that in Boston I cried, buy a broom, Buy a broom, buy a broom, buy a broom, Bless the time that in Boston* I cried, buy a broom, 62 Billie Boy. Copied by permission of Oliyir Ditson & Co., Music Publishers, 277 Washington street., Boston, owners of the copyright. Oh, where have you been, Billie Boy, Billie Bey, Oh, where have you been, charming Billie ? I have been to seek a wife, She's the joy of my life, She's a young thing, and can not leave her mother. Did she bid you to come in, Billie Boy, Billie B#y, Did she bid you to come in, charming Billie ? Yes, she bid me to come in, There's a dimple in her chin, etc, Did she set for you a chair, Billie Boy, Billie Boy, Did she set for you a chair, charming Billie? Yes, she set for me a chair, She has ringlets in her hair, etc. Can she make a cherry pie. Billie Boy, Billie Boy, Can she make a cherry pie, charming Billie ? She can make a cherry pie, Quick as a cat can wink her eye, etc. Is she often seen at church, Billie Boy, Billie Bty, Is she often seen at church, charming Billie ? Yes, she's often seen at church, With a bonnet white as birch, etc. How tall is she, Billie Boy, Billie Boy ? How tall is she, charming Billie ? She's as tall as any pine, And as straight as a pumpkin-vine, etc. Are her eyes very bright, Billie Boy, Billie Boy, Are her eyes very bright, charming Billie ? Yes, her eyes are very bright, But, alas ! they're minus sight, etc, How old is she, Billie Boy, Billie Boy, How old is she, charming Billie Boy, She's three times six, four times seven, Twenty-eight and eleven, etc. G3 Things that never Die. Copied by permission of Firth, Son & Co., Moeic Publishers, 5ti3 Broadway, N. Y., owners of the copyright The pure, the bright, the beautiful, That stirred our hearts in youth, The impulse to a worldless prayer, The dreams of love and truth ; The longings after something lost, The spirit's yearning cry, The striving after better hopes, These things that never die. The timid hand stretched forth to aid A brother in his need, The kindly word in grief's dark hour, That proves the friend indeed ; The plea for mercy softly breathed When justice threatens nigh, The sorrow of a contrite heart, These things shall never die. The memory of a clasping hand, The pressure of a kiss, And all the trifles sweet and frail, That make up love's first bliss ; If. with a firm, unchanging faith, And holy trust and high, Those hands have clasped, those lips have met, These things shall never die. The cruel and the bitter word That wounded as it fell, The chilling want of sympathy We feel but never tell ; The ha d repulse that chills the heart, Whose hopes were bounding high, In an unfading record kept. These things shall never die. Let nothing pass, for every hand Must find some work to do ; Lose not a chance to waken love, Be firm, and just, and true; G4 So shall a light that can not fade, Beam on thee from on high, And angel voices say to thee, These things shall never die. Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep. Copied by permission of Oliver Ditson & Co.,Music Publish***, 277 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright. Rocked in the cradle of the deep, I lay me down in peace to sleep ; Secure I rest upon the wave, For thou, oh Lord, hast power to save; I know thou wilt not slight my call, For thou dost mark the sparrow's fall ! And calm and peaceful is my sleep, Rocked in the cradle of the deep. And such the trust that still were mine, Tho' stormy winds swept o'er the brine, Or tho' the tempest's fiery breath Rousad me from sleep to wreck and death, In ocean cave still save with Thee, The germ of immortality ; And calm and peaceful is my sleep, Rocked in the cradle of the deep. In the Wild Chamois' Track. In the wild chamois' track at the breaking of morn, With a hunter's pride. O'er the mountain's side, We are led by the sound of the Alpine horn,' Tra la la la la la la la la la. I have crossed the proud Alps, I have sailee sure. (Chorus.) John ordered his scouts to the river to scan ; What a choptallen fellow was he ; But when they returned, he sighed for his men And cannon numbering three. A pleasant old gunboat, mousing below, Was waiting for toll that day : John Morgan concluded his scrip wouldn't go, So Johnny must gallop away. (Chorus.) John rode to the left, John rode to the right ; What a wool-gathered Morgan was he; Don Quixote had never so ugly a plight, With cannon numbering three. Bedeviled, begirt on hill and on plain, The foe on his front and his rear, With the most of his troopers, captured or slain, Why, John, what a wonderful scare. (Chorus.) Then Shackleford came with his sabre and gun What a surly old fellow was he ; And he gobbled them up as a boy would a bun, And their cannon numbering three ; . He gobbled them up in all their pride ; John Morgan, where is the fun ? And he taught them a lesson, in taking a ride, To go where the wires don't run. (Chorus.) 64 The Day our Mother Died. Copied by permission of Lee & Walkeb, Music Publishers, 722 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, owners of the copyright. There was silence in the homestead, By the hearth and in the hall, And our sorrow, like a wintry cloud, Hung darkly over all ; For the love that was to us far more Than all the world beside, Went down with mourning to the grare, The day our mother died We remembered how she loved us, We remembered well the tears, And the prayers that guarded all our waj Through many happy years; But now her earnest love no more Might seek our steps to guide ; And all our life seemed dark to us, The day our mother died. We shall never, never meet her, By the hearth, or in the hall ; We shall never see her face on earth, Where'er our lot may fall ; But memory brings each gentle grace, As ever, to our side ; And hope and sorrow hallow still The day our mother died. BEADLE'S Song Book fifo! 12. A COLLECTION OP NEW AND POPULAR COMIC AND SENTIMENTAL NEW YORK: BBADLE AND COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, 118 WILLIAM STREET. PUBLISHERS' NOTE, The music with piano forte arrangement, of any of the songs in Beadle's Dime Song Books, can be obtained of, or ordered through, any regular News or Periodical dealer ; or by forwarding twenty-five cents, direct to the publishers, whose names and address are attached to many of the pieces, the music will be sent by mail, post-paid. Beadle and Company. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, By BEADLE AND COMPANY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. B. 12.) • CONTENTS TASB. Ah, he kissed me when he left me, - - - 47 A little farm well tilled, 51 All's well, 57 A vesper song, 34 Babylon is fallen, 16 Beautiful Rose, 15 Bread and cheese and kisses, 33 Brother's fainting at the door, - 7 Cousin Jedediah, --50 Daisy Deane, 30 Dream on, Lillie, 49 Ella Clay, 18 Footsteps on the stairs, 36 He's gone to the arms of Abraham, 58 I'm going to fight mit Siegel, 42 Isabel, lost Isabel, 62 I sailed in the good ship, the Kitty, - - 51 Jack on the green, 25 Jenny Brown and I, 63 Johnny is my darling, 37 Johnny Schmoker, 22 Just before the battle, mother, 14 Katy's letter, 48 Maid of Llanweflyn, 59 Merry, little, gray, fat man, 53 Nellie lost and found, 52 Oh, are ye sleeping, Maggie? ----- 6 Oh, bless me, mother, ere I die, 32 Ole Dan Tucker, 45 O.ir Captain's last words, 8 Our sweethearts at home, 17 Robin Adair, 21 Singular dreams, W Sleeping for the flag, ^H IV CONTENTS. PAGT5. Song of a thousand years, - - - - 60 The bell-ringer, 20 The blue jay's melody, 46 The coat of other days, 27 The days when we were young, - - - - 11 The dear ones all at home, 38 The farmer's daughter, 64 The first love dream, 29 The ham fat man, 35 The knitting song, 26 The Lily of St. Leonard's, 43 The old church bell, & The old house far away, - - - - 28 The parting of the sailor's wife, - - - - 61 The ring my mother wore, 44 The vacant chair, 5 The wherewithal, 12 Thou wilt come nevermore to the stream, - - 40 Three roguish chaps, 39 Tread lightly, ye comrades, 54 Uncle Joe's Hail Columbia, - - - - 13 Watching for pa, 55 We'll go down ourselves, 31 When old friends were here, 19 Within the sound of the enemy's guns, 41 Yes, I would the war were oyer, • • 10 BEADLE'S DIME SONG BOOK No. 12. The Vacant Chair. Copied by permission of Root & Cady, Music Publishers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. "We shall meet, but we shall miss him, There will be one vacant chair ; "We shall linger to caress him, While we breathe our evening prayer ; When a year ago we gathered, Joy was in his mild blue eye; But a golden cord is severed, And our hopes in ruin lie. CHORrs. We shall meet, but we shall miss him, There will be one vacant chair ; We shall linger to caress him, When we breathe our evening prayer. At our fireside, sad and lonely, Often will the bosom swell, At remembrance of the story, When our noble Willie fell ; IIow he strove to bear our banner, Through the tlrickest of the fight, And uphold our country's honor, In the strength of manhood's might. (Cnonrs.) G True, they tell us wreaths of glory Evermore will deck his brow, But this soothes the anguish only, Sweeping o'er our heart-strings now ; Sleep to-day, oh, early fallen, In thy green and narrow bed, Dirges from the pine and cypress Mingle with the tears we shed. (Chokus.) Oh, are ye Sleeping, Maggie? Dark and mirky is the night, And not a star shines through the carr Lightning flash is a* the light, And rifted woods roar wild and drcarie, Chokus. — Oh, are ye sleeping, Maggie ? Say, are ye sleeping Maggie ? Let me in, for loud the linn, Is roaring o'er the warlock craigie. Abune my breath I dinna speak, For fear I'll rouse your wankrife daddio Could's the blast upon my cheek, Rise, oh, rise, my bonnie ladie. (Chorus.) She oped the door and let him in, He cast aside his dripping plaidie ; Now blaw your worst, ye blust'ring winds, Since, Maggie dear, I'm here beside ye. Chorus. — Now since you're waking, Maggie, Now since you're waking, Maggie, What care I for howlet's cry, For boortrie bauk or warlock craigie ? Brother's Fainting at the Boor. Copied by permission of Firth, Son & Co., Music Publishers, 563 Broadway, N. Y., owners of the copyright. Yonder comes a weary soldier, With ialt'ring steps across the moor ; Mem' ries of the past steal o'er me, He totters to the cottage door ; Look, my heart can not deceive me, 'Tis one we deemed on earth no more ; Call mother, haste, do not tarry, For brother's fainting at the door. Cnonus. Kindly greet the weary soldier, Words of comfort may restore ; You may have an absent brother, Fainting at a stranger's door. Tell us, brother, of the battle, Why you were numbered with the slain ; We, who thought you lost for ever, Now clasp you to our amis again ; Oh, may others share the blessing, Which heaven kindly keeps in store, May they meet their absent loved ones, Ay, e'en though Hunting at the door. (Clio's.) I was wounded and a pris'ner, Our ranks were broken, forced to fly ; Thrown within a gloomy dungeon, Away from friends alone to die, Still the hope was strong within me, A cherished hope that would restore ; I have lived, by heaven's blessing, To meet my loved ones at the door. (Clio's.) •Our Captain's Last Words. Copied by permission of Root & Cadt, Music Publishers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. Where the foremost flag was flying, Pierced by many a shot and shell, Where the bravest men were dying, There our gallant Captain fell ; 44 Boys, you follow now another, Follow till the foe shall yield ;" Then he whispered : " Tell my mother Stephen died upon the field ; Mother ! mother ! Stephen died upon the field." Through the battle smoke they bore him, But his words were growing wild ; Heeding not the scenes before him, Stephen was once more a child ; u Ah, she comes ! there is no other Speaks my name with such a joy ; Press me to your bosom, mother, Call me still your darling boy ; Mother ! mother ! Call me still your darling boy." Men who were not used to weeping Turned aside to hide a tear, When they saw the pallor creeping, That assured them death was near ; Kindly as he were a brother, Strangers caught his parting breath, Laden with the murmur, " Mother !" Last upon his lips in death ; 44 Mother! mother!" Last upon his lips in death. The Old Church Bell. For full five hundred years Fvc swung In my old gray turret high, And many a different theme I've sung, As the time went stealing by ; IVe pealed the chant of a wedding morn, Ere night I have sadly tolled, To say that the bride was coming, love-lorn, To sleep in the churchyard mold. Ding, dong, my ceaseless song, Merry and sad, but never long. ^or full five hundred years I've swung In my ancient turret high, And many a different theme I've sung, As the time went stealing by ; I've swelled the joy of a country's pride, For a victory*, far off won ; Then changed to grief, for the brave that clie4, Ere my mirth had well begun. Ding, dong, my ceaseless song, Merry and sad, but never long. For full five hundred years I've swung In my crumbling turret high ; 'Tis time my own death-song were sung, And with truth, before I die ; I never could love the theme they gave My tyrannized tongue to tell ; One moment for cradle, the next for grave— They've worn out the old church bell. Ding, dong, my changeful song, Farewell now, and farewell lone:. 10 Yes, I would the War were Over. Copied by permission of Winner & Co., Music Publishers, 933 Spring Garden St., Philadelphia, owners of the copyrigkt. Yes, I would the war were over, Would the cruel work were done ; With my country undivided, And the battle fought and won ; Let the contest now before us, Be decided by the sword, For the war can not be ended Till the Union is restored. CHORUS. Yes, I would the war were over, Would the cruel work were done ; With my country still united, And the many States in one. Dead upon the field of battle, Husbands, sons and brothers lie ; Friends are waiting, wives and mothers, Looking for them, by-and-by ; Far away from home forever, Many a noble boy lies slain ; Look not for thy child, fond mother, Thou shalt see him not again. (Chorus.) Yes, I would the war were ended, And the cruel struggle o'er, But our flag must be defended, And our country as before ; Teace, indeed, is heaven's blessing, Though its joys are easy lost, Still we'll battle for our nation, Whatsoe'er it yet may cost. (Chorus.) 11 The Days when we were Young. Copied by permission of Root & Cadt, Music Publishers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. Sister, sister, don't you remember The days when we were young ? The long, long days, with a light and a shade, Like the pearls of a necklace strung ? They are gone, with all our yesterdays, We seek their like in vain ; But we will shed no tears for ihem While the bright to-days remain — While the bright to-days remain. Sister, sister, don't you remember The days when we were young ? The homely house in the far, far away, Where the love of ourchildhood clung? There is naught to mark that sacred spot, Save now the beaten loam ; Yet distant altars have we reared, In the blessed name of home- In the blessed name of home. Sister, sister, don't you remember The days when we were young ? The mates of childhood, the friends of our youth, We companioned and loved among? Some are wand'ring far, and some m death Have closed their weary eyes ; But we rejoice in new-found friends, While we weep for broken ties — While we weep for broken tics. 12 The Wherewithal. Copied by permission of Wm. A. Pond & Co., Music Publishers, 547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. A man may have wisdom and worth, And humor and wit at his call, But what do these matter on earth, If he has not the wherewithal ; His home may be circled with friends, If he only keep up the ball, But friendship soon changes and ends, If he has not the wherewithal. Chorus. — Then seek for the wherewithal, Make sure of the wherewithal, For pleasure like friendship soon ends, If you have not the wherewithal. The purse is the dial whose face, Shows be3t where the sunlight doth fall ; He is always the first in the race, Who is first with the wherewithal ; Some say that the high can be mean, Some say that the great can be small, But trifles like these are not seen, If blessed with the wherewithal. (Chorus.) Love shines on the casement that shows A picture within to enthral : When gold's in the heart of the rose, There's love in the wherewithal ; Yes, men may have wisdom and worth, And humor and wit at their call, But what do these matter on earth, If they have not the wherewithal. (Chorus.) 13 Uncle Joe's Hail Columbia. Copied by permission of Root & Cady, Music Publishers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. Uncle Joe comes home a singing, Hail Columby !* Glorious times de Lord is bringin', now let me die ! Fling de chains into de ribber, lay de burden by ; Dar is One who will delibber, now let me die ! CHORUS. Ring de bells in eb'ry steepde, raise de flag on high ! De Lord has come to sabe his people, now let me die I Bressed days, I lib to see dem, Hail Columby ! I hab drawn a breff of freedom, now let me die ! Ninety years I bore de burden, den He heard my cry ; Standin' on the banks of Jordan, now let me die ! Dis is what de war was brought for, Hail Columby I Dis is what our faders fought for, now let me die ! Dar's an end to all dis sorrow, comin' by-and-by ; Prayin' for dat bressed morrow, now let me die I I hab seen de rebels beaten, Hail Columby ! I hab seen dar hosts retreatin', now let me die ! Oh, dis Union can't be broken, dar's no use to try; No sech t'ing de Lord has spoken, now let me die ! I'll go home a singing " Glory j" Hail Columby ! Since I heard dis bressed story, now let me die ! 'Tis de ransom ob de nation, drawin' now so nigh ; Tis de day ob full salbation, now let me die 1 14 Just before the Battle, Mother. Copied by permission of Root & Cjldt, Music Publishers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. Just before the battle, mother, I'm thinking most of you ; While upon the field we're watching, With the enemy in view ; Comrades brave are round me lying, Filled with thoughts of home and God ; For well they know, that on the morrow, Some will sleep beneath the sod. Chorus. — Farewell, mother, you may never Press me to your heart again ; But, oh, you'll not forget me, mother, If I'm numbered with the slain. Oh, I long to see you, mother, And the loving ones at home ; But I'll never leave our banner, Till in honor I can come ; Tell the traitors all around you, That their cruel words we know, In ev'ry battle kill our soldiers, By the help they give the foe. (Chorus.) Hark ! I hear the bugles sounding, 'Tis the signal for the fight ; Now may God protect us, mother, As He ever does the right ; Hear the " Battle-cry of Freedom," How it swells upon the air ; Oh, yes, we'll rally round our standard, Or we'll perish nobly there. (Chorus.) 15 Beautiful Eose. Copied by permission of Root & Cadt, Mnsic Publishers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. Off on the prairie, where the balmy air, Kisses the waving corn, • There lives a farmer with a daughter fair, Fair as a summer's morn ; She has a nature gentle as a clove, Pure as the mountain snows ; Say, is it strange that everyone should love, Love such a girl as Rose ? Chorus. — Beautiful Rose ! lovely Rose ! Pride of the prairie bower ! Everybody loves her, everybody knows She is the fairest flower ! Rose is a lady, yet from early dawn, Labors her skillful hand ; She is the housewife, now her mother's gone, Gone to the better land ; Rose has the beauty, father has the gold, Both will be hers some day ; For she is young, while he is old, Old people pass away. (Chorus.) Clerks from the city, plowmen from the field, Lords from a foreign land, Each in their turn have very humbly kneeled^ Kneeled for 'her heart and hand ; But to them all she made the same reply, Kindly but firmly, " No !" And none but I can tell the reason why, Why she should treat them so. (Chorus.) 16 Babylon is Fallen. Copied by permission of Root & Cadt, Music Publishers, 95 Clark. 6treet, Chicago, owners of the copyright. Don't you see de black clouds risin' ober yonder, Whar de massa's ole plantation am ? Neber you be frightened, dem is only darkeys, Come to jine and fight for Uncle Sam. CHORUS. Look out dar, now, we's a gwine to shoot ! Look out dar — don't you understand V Babylon is fallen, Babylon is fallen, And we's a gwine to occupy de land. Don't you see de lightnin' flashin' in de cane-brake, Like as if we gwine to hab a storm ? No, you is mistaken, 'tis de darkey's bay'nets, An' de buttons on dar uniform. (Chorus.) Way up in de corn-field, whar you hear de t'under, Dat is our ole forty-pounder gun ; When de shells are missin', den we load wid punkins, All de same to make de cowards run. (Chorus.) Massa was de Kernel in de rebel army, Eber sence he went an' run away ; But his lubly darkeys, dey has been a watchhV, An' dey take him pris'ner tudder day. (Chorus.) We will be de massa, he will be de sarvant, Try him how he like it for a spell ; So we crack de butt'nuts, so we take de Kernel, So de cannon carry back de shell. (Chorus.) Our Sweethearts at Home. Copied by permission of Sep. Winner. Music Publisher, 933 Spring Garden st., Philadelphia, owner of the copyright. The rover goes forth from his* home far away, And roams o'er the wide world by night and by day, Forsaking his home and the friends that are dear, Though bidding "good-by" with a sigh and a tear; The hope in his heart, no vision can mar, As he wanders away to some region afar ; Though bright be his journey, where'er he may roam, He dreams with a sigh of his sweetheart at home. CHORUS. Our sweethearts at home, be we ever so far, Live still in our thoughts, wherever we are ; Away, far away, though wildly we roam, We dream, ever dream of our sweethearts at home. The soldier goes forth to the army afar, And dares with a firm heart the perils of war ; He braves ev'ry danger, unconscious of fear, Yet parting at first can not keep back the tear ; For over the heart a sorrow will come, As we part from our friends and the comforts of home ; He tries to forget as he bids them adieu, But parting is sad to the hearts that are true. The sailor goes out o'er the waters so wide, And heeds not the dash of the deep ocean's tide ; He leaves the " sweet home " of his childhood a while, And drives back the tear as he forces a smile ; He wanders away, but o'er his lone heart Full many a dream of the future will start ; Though reckless and wild o'er the world he may roam He dreams, often dreams of his sweethearts at home. 18 Ella Clay. Copied by permission of Firth, Son & Co., Music Publishers, 563 Broadway, N. Y., owners of the copyright. Away down in de Kentucky State, Not many years ago, The darkies lived so happy den, And played on de old banjo ; On massa's farm we hoed de corn, From morn to close ob day, And danced and sung when night cum on, With charming Ella Clay. Chorus. — Oh, Ella Clay, oh, Ella Clay, ♦ Sweet, charming Ella Clay ; Wid eyee more bright dan stars at night, Sparkling bright and gay. No gal in all Kentucky State Wid Ella coirid compare ; Her lubly eyes and cherry lips, And skin so berry fair ; Oh, we loved each other dearly, And oft to her I'd say : " How berry lonely I would be, Without sweet Ella Clay. (Chorus.) But times hab changed, old massa's dead, And I am left alone ; To oder homes, far, far away, De darkies all hab gone ; De white man cum one sunny day, And took my love away, And now I weep de whole day long For darling Ella Clay. (Chorus.) When old Friends were Here. Copied by permission of Horace Waters, Music Publisher, 4S1 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. When old friends were here, In days that are flown, How fond were the hands Which oft clasped my own ! The pathways of life Wore pleasure's sunny hue, And voices were near, With tones warm and true. CHORUS. All are gone ! all are gone ! No loved one's near ; I weep for the happy days When old friends were here. When old friends were here We roamed o'er the hills, We sang merry songs, As free as the rills ; But time on its wave Has rudely borne away The fair dewy flowers Of life's early day. CHORUS. All are gone ! all are gone } No loved one's near ! I weep for the happy days When old friends were here, 20 The Bell-Ringer. Copied by permission of Wm. Hall & Son, Music Publishers, W3 Broadway, N. Y. owners of the copyright. I set the bell a-ringing When the bride to the altar was led ; And I loved to hear it swinging So merrily over my head ; The children flung gay garlands round, While I sent forth the jocund sound ; Then many tears were shed, but yet, The young lip smiled while the cheek was wet. Ah me ! ah me ! ah me ! a song of joy and hope Was heard afar, as I pulled my rope, as I pulled my rope. I set the bell a-tolling, When the bride to the churchyard was borne, And the dismal notes went rolling, To tell of a heart forlorn ; The wandering children stood aghast, As sable mourners by them passed, " And she is gone, so fair, so young," Thus loud lamented the iron tongue. Ah me 1 ah me ! ah me ! a song of perished hope Was heard afar, as I pulled my rope, as I pulled my rope. I set the bell a-pealing, When shadow has buried the day, And a wondrous spell is stealing O'er the hearts of the grave and gay ; The aged hear the funeral chime, Of slowly, surely dying time ; 21 The youthful hear a cheering strain, That tells them day will revive again; Ah me ! ah me ! ah me I a song of grief and hope Is heard afar, as I pull my rope, as I pull my rope. Eobin Adair. What's this dull town to me ? Robin's not near ! What was t I wished to see ? What wished to hear ? Where's all the joy and mirth Made this town a heaven on earth T Oh ! they're all fled with thee, Robin Adair ! What made the assembly shine ? Robin Adair ! What made the ball so fine ? Robin was there ! What, when the play was o'er, What made my heart so sore ? Oh ! it was parting with Robin Adair ! But now thou'rt cold to me, Robin Adair ! But now thou'rt cold to me, Robin Adair ! Yet he I loved so well Still in my heart shall dwell ! Oh ! I can ne'er forget Robin Adair. 22 Johnny Schmoker. Copied bv permission of Root & Cadt, Music Publishers, &5 Clark st., Chicago, owners of the copyright. Johnny Schmoker, Johnny Schmoker, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spiel mein kline drummel ; Rub, a dub, a dub, das ist mein drummel. Johnny Schmoker, Johnny Schmoker, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spiel mein kline fifie ; Pilly, willy, wink, das ist mein fifie, Rub, a dub, a dub, das ist mein drummel ; Mein rub, a dub, a dub, mein pilly, willy, wink, das ist mein fifie. Johnny Schmoker, Johnny Schmoker, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spiel mein klein triangle ; Tic, knock, knock, das ist triangle, Pilly, willy, wink, das ist mein fifie, Rub, a dub, a dub, das ist mein drummel ; Mein rub, a dub, a dub, mein pilly, wTilly, wink, mein tic, knock, knock, das ist triangle. Johnny Schmoker, Johnny Schmoker, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spiel mein kline trombone ; Bom, bom, bom, das ist mein trombone, Tic, knock, knock, das ist triangle, Pilly, willy, wink, das ist mein fifie, Rub, a dub, a dub, das ist mein drummel ; Mein rub, a dub, a dub, mein pilly willy wink, mein tic, knock, knock, mein bom, bom, bom, das ist mein trombone. 23 Johnny Schmoker, Johnny Schmoker, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spielen, IcU kann spiel mcin klinc cymbal ; Zoom, zoom, zoom, das ist mcin cymbal Bom, bom, bom, das ist mein trombone Tic, knock, knock, das ist triangle, Pilly, willy, wink, das ist mein fifie, Rub, a dub, a dub, das ist mein drummel , Mein rub, a dub, a dub, mein pilly, willy, wink, mein tic, knock, knock, mein bom, bom, bom, mein zoom, zoom, zoom, das ist mein cymbal. Johnny Schmoker, Johnny Schmoker, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spiel mein kline viol ; Fal, lal, lal, das ist mein viol, Zoom, zoom, zoom, das ist mein cymbal, Bom, bom, bom, das ist mein trombone, Tic, knock, knock, das ist triangle, Pilly, willy, wink, das ist mein fifie, Rub, a dub, a dub, das ist mein drummel ; Mein rub, a dub, a dub, mein pilly, willy, wink, mein tic, knock, knock, mein bom, bom, bom, mein zoom, zoom, zoom, mein fal, lal, lal, das ist mein viol. Johnny Schmoker, Johnny Schmoker, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spielen, Ich kann spiel mein kline toodle-sach ; "Whack, whack, whack, das ist mein toodle-sach, Fal, lal, lal, das ist mein viol, Zoom, zoom, zoom, das ist mein cymbal, Bom, bom, bom, das ist mein trombone, Tic, knock, knock, das ist triangle, Pilly, willy, wink, das ist mein fifie, Rub, a dub, a dub, das ist mein drummel ; Mein rub, a dub, a dub, etc., das ist mein toodle-sach. 24 Sleeping for the flag. Copied by permission of Root & Cadt, Music Publishers, 55 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. When our boys come home in triumph, brother, With the laurels they shall gain ; When we go to give them welcome, brother, "We shall look for you, in vain ; We shall wait for your returning, brother, - Though we know it can not be ; For your comrades left you sleeping, brother, Underneath a southern tree. CHORUS. Sleeping to waken In this weary world no more ; Sleeping for your true-loved country, brother, Sleeping for the flag you bore. You, who were the first on duty, brother, When u to arms " your leader cried, You have left the ranks forever, brother, You have laid your arms aside ; From the awful scenes of battle, brother, You were set forever free, When your comrades left you sleeping, brother, Underneath that southern tree. (Chorus.) You have crossed the clouded river, brother, To the mansions of the blest, " Where the wicked cease from troubling," brother, " And the weary are at rest ;" Surely we would not recall you, brother, But the tears flow fast and free, When we think of you as sleeping, brother, Underneath that southern tree. (Chorus.) 25 Jack on the Green. Copied br permission of Wm, A Pond & Co., Muiic PublUheri, 547 Broadway, New York, owner* of the copyright. Tis ober de hills so high, an' down in de valleys low, Chorus. — Jis' hear dat noise, so wake up boys, dar's a niggar on de wood-pile, sure. Dey squash de sugar cane, an' boiling 'lasses flow. CnoRUs. — I dressed so neat an' so clean, to meet old Jack on do green. CHORUS. Be ready cut an' dry, de moon am gettin' high ; Sally Ann, scratch your track in de grabble, an' be off 'fore de broke o' day ; You kiss her shiney face, den sugar lose its taste, Her eye shine like a long taller candle for to gib us a light on de way. Old Jack was a hunkey boy, he was de fam'ly pride, He was a kin to his mam, all by his fader's side. De niggars in de town, dey calls him " Brudder Chip," It took ten pair ob hinges, to hang his under lip. Old Jack was ten feet high, and forty feet aroun', He hab to look down twice before he seen de groun'. He nebber could make lub, which did de ladies vex, Dey court him haff one day, and tudder haff de nex'. Dar's Uncle Sam dey say, hab spoken to his dad, To buy Jack's cow-hide boots, to make an iron clad. But fadder Abram says : '• I knows what I'm about, I'm gwine to charter Jack, to tread de rebels out !" 26 The Knitting Song. Copied by permission of John Church, Jr., Music Publisher, 66 West Fourth street, Cincinnati, owner of the copyright. Knit! Knit! Knit! For our Northern soldiers brave ! Knit! Knit! Knit! While the Stars and Stripes they wave ! While they the rebels in battle meet, Be yours to fashion with fingers fleet, The nice warm socks for weary feet. Knit ! Knit ! Knit ! Chorus. — For our boys on Southern hills, Our boys in Southern vales, By the woods and streams of Dixie's land, Are feeling the wintry gales. Knit ! Knit ! Knit ! The socks and mittens and gloves ! Knit! Knit! Knit! Each one that her country loves ! Lay by the useless, though beautiful toy, With which you many an hour employ, And knit, instead, for the soldier boy. Knit! Knit! Knit! Knit! Knit! Knit! (Chorus.) Narrow, and widen, and seam, Knit! Knit! Knit! Till the flying needles gleam. Knit till the mitten lies complete, Knit till the socks for the weary feet The eye of each patient soldier greet. Knit! Knit! Knit! (Chorus.) 27 Knit! Knit! Knit! And knit with many a prayer I Knit ! Knit ! Knit ! Pray God the lives to spare Of loved ones, soon on the battle-field The deadly weapons of war to wield, And pray that the foe before them yield Knit ! Knit ! Knit ! Chorus. — For our boys on Southern hills, Our boys in Southern vales, By the woods and streams of Dixie's land, Are feeling the wintry gales. The Coat of Other Days. The coat of other days is fadec, And all its beauties past ; My friends no longer look as they did, But like it are fading fast ; When first I sported it, a new one, Its buttons threw Sol's rays, But now, no longer 'tis a new one — r The coat of other days. The cuffs and collar now are greasy, Not a bit of nap is there ; 'Twas tight, but now it fits me easy, As a cheap fit at Rag Fair ; The very velvet on the collar, Is now all grease and frays ; And the boys, as I pass by them, hullo : M There's a coat of other days I" 28 The Old House Far Away. Copied by permission of Root & Cjldy, Music Publishers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. The wild bird warbles, and silvery rills Sing cheerfully round the spot, And the peaceful shade of the purple hills Falls dim on my mother's cot ; Its windows were small, and its thatch is low, And its ancient halls are gray ; Oh, I see it, I love it, where'er I go, That old house far away. The little clock ticks on the parlor wall, Recording the passing hours ; And the pet geranium grows rank and tall, With its brilliant scarlet flowers ; And the old straw chair, so cosy and low, Where mother sat knitting all day ; Oh, I see it, I love it, where'er I go, That old house far away. Dear mother, how plainly I see her now, Reclining in that old chair, With the sunset resting upon her brow, That once was so smooth and fair ; With her crimped border, white as snow, And her once dark hair now gray, Oh, my heart is with her, where'er I go, In that old house far away. Not all the treasures the world affords, The riches of land and sea ; Not all the wealth of earth's proud lords, Can blot from my memory 29 The roof that sheltered each dear, dear head, And the humble floor of clay, Where the feet of those I love now tread, In the old house far away. The First Love Dream. Copied by permission of Root & Cady, Music Publishers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. Last night, mother, he told me so, As we walked by the pebbly stream ; And I wake so happy, so wild with joy, It seems like a fairy dream ; But his charming voice is ringing in my ear, As a dream-voice could not be ; He's the best man, you know, in the whole wide world, And he loves, he only loves me. Kiss me, mother, and share the joy, That has on my fortune smiled ; You have shared my sorrows whene'er I wept, Since I was a little child ; Do you chide me now ? "What could your darling do When he plead with bended knee ; He's the best man, you know, in the whole wide world, And he loves, he only loves me. Leave you, mother ? It brings a pang To this light and bounding heart ; But if Tie were calling, the bride would go, Though you and the daughter part ; At a word from Mm, a beckon of his hand, I would cross the rolling sea ; He's the best man, you know, in the whole wide world, And he loves, he only loves me. 30 Daisy Deane. Copied by permission of Root & Cady, Music Publisher*, 95 Clark et., Chicago, owners of the copyright. 'Twas down in the meadows, the violets were blow- ing, And the springtime grass was fresh and green ; And the birds by the brooklet their sweet songs were singing When I first met my darling Daisy Deane CHORUS. None knew thee but to love thee, thou dear one of my heart, Oh, thy memory is ever fresh and green ; Though the sweet buds may wither and fond hearts be broken, Still Til love thee, my darling Daisy Deane. Her eyes soft and tender, the violets outvieing, And a fairer form was never seen, With her brown silken tresses, her cheek like the roses, There was none like my darling Daisy Deane. The bright flowers are faded, the young grass has fallen, And a dark cloud hovers o'er the scene ; For the death-angel took her, and left me in sorrow, For my lost one, my darling Daisy Deane. Oh, down in the meadows I still love to wander, Where the young grass grew so fresh and green ; But the bright, golden visions of springtime have faded, With the flowers, and my darling Daisy Deane. 31 We'll go down Ourselves. Copied bjr permission of Root & Cadt, Music Publisher*, 95 Clark 6treet, Chicago, owners of the copyright. " What shall we do, as years go by, And peace remains a stranger, With Richmond yet in rebel hands, And Washington in danger ? What shall we do for leaders, when Old age this race Is cropping?" I asked some ladies whom I met, And didn't it set them hopping ! Chorus. — M What shall we do ? W^hat shall we do ? Why, lay them on the shelves, And we'll go down ourselves, And teach the rebels something new." 44 What shall we do when armies march To storm the rebel quarters, If, as of yore, their marches end, Beside Potomac's waters ? May not we call our soldiers home, May not we think of stopping ?" I strove to frame the question fair, But didn't it set them hopping ! (Cnoiius.) " What shall we do when all the men For battle have enlisted, And yet the" rebels hold their ground, And law is yet resisted ?" Instead of doing as I should, The theme politely dropping, I ventured yet one question more, Oh, didn't it set them hopping! (Chobus.) 32 Oh, Bless me, Mother, ere I Die, Copied by permission of Firth, Son & Co., Music Publisher*, 563 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. " Oh, bless me, mother, ere I die," A wounded soldier said ; You'll be so rery lonely now, Alone when I am dead ; Think kindly of me when I'm gone, And sometimes breathe a prayer, That when my sufferings shall cease, We'll meet together there. Chorus. — " Oh, bless me, mother, Bless me ere I die ; Oh, bless me, mother, Bless me ere I die. M Oh, tell me, mother, tell me true, Who gained the victory ; Are all my comrades gone, mother, Am I alone with thee ? My eyes grow dim, I can not see, Oh, fold me to your heart ; And kiss me once again, mother, Oh, kiss me ere we part (Chorus.) " I hear soft music on the air, Oh, cool my burning brow ; The angels beckon from above, I feel so happy now ; So bless me, mother, ere I die, And fold me to your heart ; You'll miss me, mother, very much, Oh, kiss me ere we part." (Chorus.) 98 Bread and Cheese and Kisses. One night my sweetheart came to woo, When I was left and lonely, He looked so kind, and handsome, too, I loved him, and him only. The village chime told supper time, What could I do, dear misses ? For as I live, I'd naught to give, But bread and cheese and kisses. He asked my hand with such a grace, What woman could refuse him ; I think had you been in my place, You'd say 'twas right to choose him . I hung my head, and simp' ring said — What couH I say, dear misses ? I will be thine, though we should dine On bread and cheese and kisses. Next morning we exchanged our vows, I prize his golden present, Which seems like magic to disclose Each moment something pleasant. His cheerful smiles each care beguiles, Believe me, dearest misses, Tis bliss to share with him our fare, Though bread and cheese and kisses. 34 A Vesper Song. Copied by permission of Root & Cady, Music Publiskers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. We are sitting by the cottage-door, brother, In the hush of the twilight's spell ; We are gathered as in days of yore, brother, With a song bidding day farewell ; But there's a vacant place in our circle so dear, And our song has lost its wonted glee ; And there's an aching void in ev'ry heart, brother, As we murmur a prayer for thee. CHORUS. Yes, there's a vacant place in our circle so dear, And our song has lost its wonted glee ; And there's an aching void in ev'ry heart, brother, As we murmur a prayer for thee. There's a faintly growing fringe of light, brother, Where the sun lately sank from view; And the gentle sheperdness of night, brother, Leads her flock through the fields of blue ; But even this dear scene fails to chann us now, And our music lacks its wonted glee ; And there's an aching void in every heart, brother, As we murmur a prayer for thee. (Chorus.) As a watcher counts the moments' flight, brother, Till a long weary night shall cease, So through all this fearful war's deep night, brother, We have watched for a morn of peace ; And with our pray'r that heav'n may maintain our cause, And give truth and right the victory, We can but breathe a wish for thy return, brother, As we murmur a prayer for thee. (Chorus.) 35 But if, ere that glorious morn shall come, hrother, When with victory the strife shall close, And the heroes of the war come home, brother, Wearing laurels upon their brows ; Oh, then to see thee stand in that honored band, Were a joy too deep for music's glee, And with this hope our fainting hearts we'll stay,brother, As we murmur a prayer for thee. (Chorus.) The Ham Pat Man. Copied by permission pf John Church, Jr., Music Publisher, 66 West Fourth street, Cincinnati, owner of the copyright. White folks I come before you now, to try to please you all, I'm right from old Virginny, sassy, ragged, fat and tall ; You talk about your comfort, ole massa am de man, Dat gibs de nigger ham fat smoking in de pan. CHORUS. Ilam fat, ham fat, zigga, zolla, zan, Ham fat, ham fat, tickle olla tan ; Oh, walk into de kitchen, as quick as you can, Hoochee, kouchee, kouchee, says the ham fat man. When wittels am so plenty, oh, I bound to get my till ; I know a pretty yaller gal, and I love her to kill ; If any nigger fools wid her, I'll tan him if I can, A hoochee, koochee, koochee, says the ham fat man. Oh, fare you well, good white folks, I now must go away, I'll lay back and stay back, in clover all the day ; I'll tell you what it is, now, as long as I can stand, I'll stick to the Union and the ham fat man. 36 Footsteps on the Stairs. Copied by permission of Firth, Son & Co., Music Publishers, 563 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. I miss them now, those little feet, That used to come so oft% The little voice that used to speak, So sweet, so silvery soft ; And now, when I am all alone, Engrossed in daily cares, I listen, but 'tis all in vain, For the " footsteps on the stairs," For when I read, or sing, or play, Or join in pleasures sweet, I seem to see her glad and gay, And miss those little feet ; Oh, it is hard to think she's gone, "With all her winning airs ; To think I never more shall hear Her " footsteps on the stairs." Her golden curls still cluster round, Her brow so white and clear ; And on her face, now pale and cold, I've shed full many a tear ; The lids have drooped o'er those blue eyes, Death's icy seal is theirs ; *Tis He that has forever hushed Those " footsteps on the stairs." I know her feet are walking now, The shining streets of heaven ; I know that to that dear one's brow, A golden crown is given ; I'm thankful that she is at rest, Safe from earth's sinful snares ; Yet still I weep and pause to hear The " footsteps en the stairs,'1 Johnny is my Darling. Copied by permission of Horace Waters, Music Publisher, 481 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. 'Twas on a sunny morning, The brightest in the year, When Johnny came to our town, A Union Volunteer. CHORUS. Oh, Johnny is my darling, My darling, my darling ; Oh, Johnny is my darling, The Union volunteer. As he came marching up the street, The bands played loud and clear, And every one came out to greet, The Union volunteer. (Chorus.) With proudly waving starry flags, And hearts that knew no fear ; He came to fight for freemen's rights, A Union volunteer. (Chorus.) But though he's gone to glory win, And I left lonely here, He'll soon return to me again, As Cupid's volunteer. (Chorus.) 38 The Dear Ones all at Home. Copied by permission of Root & Cadt, Music Publishers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. Beyond the smiling and the weeping I shall be soon ; Beyond the waking and the sleeping, Beyond the sowing and the reaping, I shall be soon. Chorus. — Love, rest and home, sweet, sweet home, Oh, how sweet it will be there to meet The dear ones all at home. Beyond the blooming and the fading, I will be soon ; Beyond the shining and the shading, Beyond the hoping and the dreading, I shall be soon. (Chorus.) Beyond the rising and the setting, 1 shall be soon ; Beyond the calming and the fretting, Beyond remembering and forgetting, I shall be soon. (Chorus.) Beyond the parting and the meeting, I shall be soon ; Beyond the farewell and the greeting, Beyond the pulse's fever beating, I shall be soon. (Chorus.) Beyond the frost-chain and the fever, I shall be soon ; Beyond the rock waste and river, Beyond the ever and the never, I shall be soon. (Chorus.) ; 39 Three Eoguish Chaps. In good old colony times, When our fathers were under the king, Three roguish chaps fell into mishaps, Because they could not sing ; Because they could not sing, Because they could not sing ; Three roguish chaps fell into mishaps, Because they could not sing. The first he was a miller, And the second he was a weaver, And the third he was a little tailor, Three roguish chaps together. Now the miller he stole corn, And the weaver he stole yarn, And the little tailor stole broadcloth for To keep these three rogues warm. The miller got drowned in his dam, The weaver got hung in his yarn, And the sheriff clapped his paw on the little tailor, With the broadcloth under his arm. Now if these three roguish chaps, Who flourished under the king, Had lived to see as much as me, They'd surely have learned to sing. Then the miller could sing to his love, And the weaver comfort his wife, And the little tailor make ballads for To keep these three rogues right. 40 Tkoul't come nevermore to the Stream Copied by permission of Root & Cady, Music Publisher*, 95 Clark et., Chicago, owners of the copyright. Thou wilt come nevermore to the stream, Kitty, To the sweet little "brook 'neath the hill, And with low and plaintive moan will its wild waves hurry on, To the river that winds by the mill ; Oh, the flowers will bloom just so bright, Kitty, And the wild bird sing sweet in the bough, But I seek for you in vain, through the forest, on the plain, Oh, Kitty dear, my heart is breaking now. CHORUS. My own Kitty, clear Kitty, Kitty of the silver maple glen, I may seek the little nook, by the music haunted brook, But I'll never see my Kitty Clyde again. Here's your basket and line, they're unused, Kitty, And the rust gathers thick on the hook, And the grass is tall and rank, on the mossy shaded bank, And it covers the path to the brook ; There's a sigh in the voice of the wind, Kitty, And the flowers seem to weep tears of dew ; And the little stars above, that once smiled upon our love, Are ever watching, Kitty dear, for you. I am kneeling alone by thy grave, Kitty, 'Neath the maple that stands on the hill ; Thou wilt meet me nevermore on the fiow'ry mossyshore Of the river that winds by the mill ; I am wTand'ring alone by the stream, Kitty, There is grief in the sigh of the wave ; And thro' all the coming years I shall water with my tears The flowers that are blooming o'er thy grave. 41 Within the sound of the enemy's guns, Coifed hy permission of Root & Cady, Mnsic Publishers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. Within the sound of the enemy's guns, Within their sound arc we; A gallant band of patriot sons, Fighting the battles of Liberty, Beneath the folds of the " Flag of the Free/' Boom! boom! now, now ye Northern sons Rouse, rouse at the sound of the enemy's guns; Yes, rouse, rouse at the sound of the enemy's guns. Within the range of the enemy's guns, Within their range are we ; The Parrot shell through the hot air hums, The Minnie shower from the thicket comes ; Stand firm, stand firm, ye ranks of the free! Boom ! boom ! now, now, Columbia's sons, Charge, charge, and take the enemy's guns; Yes, charge, charge, and take the enemy's guns. All silenced the roar of the enemy's guns, All silenced their lips have we; Awake the roll of the battle drums, Raise high the cheer that surging comes In the hour, in the hour of victor}-. Boom ! Boom ! now, now, oh, gallant ones, Seize, seize for your trophies, the enemy's guns ; Yes, seize, seize for your trophies the enemy's guns. 42 Tin G-oing to Fight mit Siegel. I've come shust now, to tells you kow I goes mit regimentals, To scklauck dem voes of liberty, Like dem old Continentals, Vot fights mit England long ago, To save de Yankee eagle ; Un now I gets my sojer clothes, I'm going to fight mit Siegel. Chorus. — Yaw, daus is true, I shpeaks mit you, I'm going to fight mit Siegel. Yen I comes from the Deutsche countree, I vorks somedimes at baking ; Den I keeps a lager-bier saloon, Un den I goes shoe-making ; But now I was a sojer been, To save de Yankee eagle ; To schlauck dem tarn secession volks, I'm going to figkt mit Siegel. (Chorus.) I gets ein tarn big rifle guns, Un puts kim to mine skoulder, Den marck so bold, like a big jack korse, Un may been someding bolder ; I goes off mit de volunteers, To save de Yankee eagle ; To give dem rebel vellers fits, I'm going to figkt mit Siegel. (Chorus.) Dem Deutsken mens mit Siegel's band, At figkting kave no rival ; Un ven Ckeff Davis mens we meet, Ve scklauck 'em like de tuyvil ; 43 Dere's only yon t'ing vot I fear, Yen pattling for de eagle, I von't get not no lager-bier, Xcn I goes to fight mit SiegeL (Ciiorus.) For rations dey gives salty pork, I dinks dat was a great sell ; I petter likes de sour krout, De switzer kaise un pretzel ; If Shen'ral Meade wiH give us deni, Ve'll save de Yankee eagle ; Un I'll put mine vrou in breechaloons, To go un fight mit Siegel. (Chorus.) The Lily of St. Leonard's. In the days of happy childhood, Pure and kind of heart was she ; As a child unto its mother, "Was our lassie then to me ; In the bloom of her young beauty, We were proud to spread her fame ; And the Lily of St. Leonard's Then was worthy of her name. Cold may be the gaze of others, But I cling to one hope yet ; will not forsake the young heart, Nor its former truth forget ; For I feel, though clouds now hover O'er the sunshine of her fame, That the Lily of St. Leonard's Will be worthy of her name. u The Ring my Mother Wore. Copied by permission of John Church, Jr., Music Publisher, 66 West Fourth street, Cincinnati, owner of the copyright. The earth has many treasures rare, In gems and golden ore ; My heart hath one, more precious far — The ring my mother wore ; I saw it first when I, a child, Was playing by her side ; She told me then 'twas father's gift When she became his bride. I saw it oft in sorrow's hours Which marked the after years, When shining on the soft, white hand That wiped away my tears ; And oh, I saw it once again, When, on her dying bed, She lifted up her hand in prayer, And laid it on my head. Beside that bed, where fell my tears, The ring to me was given ; She placed it on my hand, and said : " We'll meet again in heaven ;" I kissed the cheek I oft had pressed, From which the rose had fled, And, bowed with grief, stood motherless, Alone, beside the dead. Among the blest, in realms above, Where sorrows are unknown, Oh, may I meet my mother dear, No more to weep alone ; 45 Her dying words of love and faith I'll cherish evermore Within the heart which holds so dear The ring my mother wore. Ole Dan Tucker. I came to town de udder night, I hear de noise an' saw de fight ; De watchman was a runnin' roun', Cryin' : " Ole Dan Tucker's come to town.' Chorus. — So get out de way, Old Dan Tucker, Get out de way, ole Dan Tucker, Get out de way, ole Dan Tucker, You're too late to come to supper. Ole Dan he went down to de mill To get some meal to put in de swill ; De miller he swore by de point of his knife He never seed such a man in his life. (Chorus.) Old Dan and I we did fall out, And what you t'ink it was about He tread on my corn, I kick him on de shin, And dat's de way dis row begin. (Chorus.) Ole Dan begun in early life To play de banjo and de fife ; He play de niggers all to sleep, And den into his bunk he creep. (Chorus.) And now Ole Dan is a gone sucker, And neber can go home to supper ; Ole Dan he has had his last ride, And de banjo's buried by his side. (Chortts.) 46 The Blue Jay's Melody. Copied by permission of John Church, Jr., Music Publisher, 63 West Fourth street, Cincinnati, owner of the copyright. Oh, since I left my native home, In distant lands far, far to roam, I find but one thing dear to me, It is the blue jay's melody ; This old familiar song is dear, It brings to mind those once so near, But now are sleeping far away, Where first I heard the dear blue jay. Chorus. — The blue jay's song is clear to me, It wakes kind thoughts in memory, And brings to mind those far away, Where first I heard the dear blue jay When listening to his piping tune, I think of my lost Jennie June, Who went to sleep in flowery May, When first we heard the bright blue jay ; He is the one I've left to sing Sweet songs o'er her in early spring, And guard the one I loved so long, Where first I heard the blue jay's song. This soul of mine would soar above, To dwell with her, my early love, And join the parents of my youth, Who taught me naught but love and truth ; But He who doeth all things well, Has called them home with Him to dwell, And I shall go I hope ere long, And say good-by to the blue jay's song; 47 Ah, he kissed me when he left me. Copied by permission of Root & Cadt, Music Publishers, 03 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. Ah, ho kissed me when he left me, And he told me to be brave ; '4 For I go," he whispered, " darling, All that's dear on earth to save ;" So I stifled down the sobbing, And I listened with a smile, For I knew his country called him, Though my heart should break the while. Chorus. — Ah, he kissed me when he left me, And his parting words remain Treasured deep within this bosom : 11 Dearest, we shall meet again." Oh, the sun still shines as brightly, And the world looks just as gay, As upon the fatal morning, That which bore my love away New, alas, the dust is resting On that bold and manly brow ; And the heart that beat so proudly Lieth still and quiet now. (Chorus.) Yes, ho fell, his clear voice ringing Loud, to cheer his comrades on ; But how much of joy and sunshine Is with him forever gone ; Where now the pine-tree rustles, And the southern branches wave, There my own true love is lying, Low within a soldier's grave. (Chorus.) 48 Katy's Letter. Och, girls dear, did you ever hear I wrote my love a letter, And although he can not read, I thought 'twas all the better, For why should he be puzzled With hard spelling in the matter, When the maning was so plain That I loved him faithfully, And he* knows it — oh, he knows it — Without one word from me. I wrote it, and I folded it, And put a seal upon it, 'Twas a seal almost as big As the crown of my best bonnet ; For I would not have the postmaster Make his remarks upon it, As I'd said inside the letter That I loved him faithfully, And he knows it — oh, he knows it — Without one word from me. My heart was full, but when I wrote I dare not put it half in, The neighbors know I love him, And they're mighty fond of chaffing ; So I dare not write his name outside, For fear they .would be laughing, So I wrote : " From little Kate to one Whom she loves faithfully," And he knows it — oh, he knows it — Without one word from me. 49 Now, girls, would you believe it, That postman, so consated, iSo answer will he bring me, So long as I have waited ; But maybe there maynt be one For the rason that I stated, That my love can neither read nor write, But loves me faithfully, And I know where'er my love is, That he is true to me. Dream on, Lillie. Copied by permission of Root & Cadt, Mnsic Publishers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners ©f the copyright. Sleeping, dreaming, gentle Lillie Lee, Dreaming, Lillie, dreamest thou of me ? Angels whisper softly in thine ear, Sleep on, Lillie, they are hov'ring near. Chorus. — Dream on, dream on, gentle Lillie Lee, Still kind angels ever near thee be, Softly, sweetly, whisp'ring in thine ear : " Darling Lillie, thou hast naught to fear." Dream on, dream on, cares of life away, Wake not, Lillie, 'til the dawn of day Comes with rosy fingers tipt with light, Driving far the shadows of the night. Dream on, Lillie, may no shade of care Dim thy vision now so bright and fair ; Dream on, Lillie, slumber while you may, Brightest dreams will vanish with the day. 50 Cousin Jedediah. Copied by permission of Oliver Ditson & Co., Music Publishers, 277 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright. Oh, Jacob, get the cows home, and put them in the pen, For the cousins are a-coming to see us all again ; The dowdy's in the pan, and the turkey's on the fire, And we all must get ready for Cousin Jedediah. CHORUS. There's Hezekiah, and Azariah, and Aunt Sophia, and Jedediah, All coming here to tea ; Oh, won't we have a jolly time, oh, won't we have a jolly time; Jerusha, put the kettle on, we'll all take tea. ]STow,Obed,wash your face,boy,and tallow up your shoes, While I go to see Aunt Betty, and tell her all the news ; And,Kkty, slick your hair,and put on your Sunday gown, For Cousin Jedediah comes right from Boston town. And, Job,you peel the onions, and wash and fix the taters, We'll have them on the table in those shiny painted waiters ; Put on your bran new boots, and those trowsers with the straps, Aunt Sophia'll take a shine to you if you look real slick perhaps. Tell Josh to put the colt to the double-seated chaise, Let him just card down the cattle, give them a little hay, I'll wear my nice new bell-crown I bought of old Uriah, And I guess we'll astonish our Cousin Jedediah. 51 I Sailed in the Good Ship, the Kitty. I sailed in the good ship, the Kitty, With a smart blowing gale and rough sea, Left my Polly, the lads call so pretty, Safe here at an anchor — Yo, yea ! She blubbered salt tears when we parted, And cried : *' Now be constant to me," I told her not to be down-hearted, So up went the anchor — Yo, yea ! When the wind whistled larboard and starboard, And the storm came on weather and lee, The hope I with her should be harbored, Was my cable and anchor — Yo, yea 1 And yet, my boys, would you believe me, I returned with no rhino from sea ; Mistress Polly would never receive me, So again I heaved anchor — Yo, yea ! A Little Farm Well Tilled. A little farm well tilled, A little cot well filled, A little wife well willed, Give me, give me. A larger farm well tilled, A bigger house wrell filled, A taller wife well willed, Give me, give me.. I like the farm well tilled, And I like the house well filled But no wife at all Give me, give me. 52 Nellie Lost and Found. Copied by permission of Hoot & Cady, Music Publishers 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. Ten o'clock ! the rain begins to fall, And Nellie still from home ; Vainly now her loving name we call, Oh, whither does she roam ? Can it he she wanders from the street, Through the wood to find her lonely way ? Bless the child, I fear her little feet Have carried her astray. Chorus. — Wake the hoys to search for Nellie, Stay not for the dawn ; Who shall sleep when from the mother's fold One little lamb is gone ? Eleven o'clock ! the little brothers wait, Still hoping her return ; Peeping through the lattice of the gate, Their darling to discern; Weary now they turn them to the door, While their tears, for lips that now are dumb Ask the question often asked before, Oh, mother, will she come ? (Chorus.) Twelve o'clock ! and in the forest wild, What terrors rule the hour ! Who can tell what foes surround the child. Or shield her from their power ? Storms to face and torrents to be crossed, Beasts of prey that in the darkness roam ; Would to God that only I were lost, And Nellie safe at home. (Chorus.) 53 One o'clock ! mcthinks I hear a voice, With tidings in its tone ! Does it bid this trembling heart rejoice, Or sorrow makes it known ? Still I hear that midnight echo stirred, Surely, too, it bears a joyful sound ; Praise the Lord, a mother's prayer is heard, The darling one is found ! Chorus. — Through the wood the midnight echoes Bear a joyful sound; Praise the Lord, a mother's prayer is heard, The darling one is found. Merry, Little, Gray, Fat Man. There is a little man dressed all in gray, He lives in the city, and is always gay ; He's round as an apple, and plump as a pear, He has not a shilling, nor has he a care. Chorus. — And he sings and he laughs, ha ! ha ! And he laughs and he sings ; Oh, what a merry, little, Fat, fat, gray man. He drinks Without counting the number of glasses, He sings merry songs, and he flirts with the lasses ; He has debts, he has duns, but no bailiff he fears, He shuts up his door, and he shuts up his ears. Chorus. — Then he sings and he laughs, ha I ha ! And he laughs and he sings, Ob, what a merry, little, Fat, fat, gray man. 56 Singular Dreams. Copied by permission of Root & Cadt, Music Publishers, 95 Clark street, Chicago, owners of tho copyright. Good people, I'll not be detaining you long, T>cugh I would relate how I've suffered a wrong ; And I can best tell it right here in a song, By taking my life as a theme ; In temper I've ever been placid and mild, And tried to be honest and true from a child, Although I'm supposed to be reckless and wild, All because I have singular dreams. For a Sunday school once I went into a church, Fell asleep when commanded my Bible to search, And dreamed right away I was fishing for perch, On the bank of a beautiful stream ; The scholars were told to be honest and right, And never indulge in a quarrel or fight, When I screamed to Bob Williams, uFm getting a bite!" Then awoke from this singular dream. On a Quaker I called in his cottage one day, And there I found a wedding in gloomy array, And as they all gave me a welcome to stay, And eat their strawberries and cream, I eat, fell asleep, dreamed I went to a ball, Where the fiddler was mad and refusing to call, When I knocked the old Quaker right down in his hall, Then awoke from this singular dream. One time I fell dreaming while kissing my bride And dreamed that I only for liberty sighed, For I was a slave in an ebony hide, And driving a Southerner's team ; I thought as I'd often for liberty bled, I'd bite off the shackles with which I was led, But I bit off the nose from my Mary Ann's head, In the midst of this singular dream. So now, my good people, your pardon I crave, Don't think that I am an intentional knave, And if you'll believe that I mean to behave, 111 try to be happy supreme ; But lately I dreamed, after eating hot soups, That I was a lady, with ringlets in loops, When arising I put on my grandmother's hoops, In the midst of this singular dream. All's Well. Deserted by the waning moon, When skies proclaim night's cheerless noon, On tower, fort, or tented ground, The sentry walks his lonely round, And should some footstep haply stray, Where caution marks the guarded way, Who goes there ? Stranger, quickly tell, A friend. The word? Good-night! All's well ! Or, sailing on the midnight deep, While weary messmates soundly sleep,# The careful watch patrols the deck To guard the ship from foes or wreck ; And, while his thoughts oft homeward veer, Some friendly voice salutes his ear — What cheer ? Brother, quickly tell, Above — below. Good-nteht ! All's well ! 58 He's Gone to the Arms of Abraham. Copied by permission of Sep. Winner, Music Publisher, 933 Spring Garden st., Philadelphia, owner of the copyright. My true love is a soldier In the army now to-day ; It was the cruel war that made him Have to go away ; The "draft" it was that took him, And it was a " heavy blow," It took him for a conscript, But he didn't want to go. Chorus. — He's gone — he's gone — As meek as any lamb ; They took him, yes, they took him, To the arms of Abraham. He's gone to be a soldier, With a knapsack on his back, A fightin' for the Union, And a livin' on " hard tack ;" Oh, how he looked like Christian, In the Pilgrim's Progress shown, With a bundle on his shoulders, But with nothin' of his own. (CHORua) Indeed, to be a soldier, It is so very hard, For when a fellow has his fun, They poke him on the guard ; One day he shot a rooster, The Captain thought it wrong ; And so to punish him they made Him picket all night long. (Chorus.) 59 I haven't got a lover now, I haven't got a beau ; They took him as a raw recruit, But mustered him, I know ; lie's nothing but a private, And not for war inclined, Although a hard old nut to crack A Colonel you might find. (Chorus.) My true love is a soldier, Upon the battle-ground, And if he ever should be lost, I hope he may be found ; If he should fall a fightin' Upon the battle-plain, I hope some other chap may come And pick him up again. (Chorus.) Maid of Llanwellyn. I've no sheep on the mountain, nor boat on the lake, Nor coin in my coffer to keep me awake, Nor corn in my garner, nor fruit on the tree, Yet the ifaid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me. Rich Owen will tell you, with eyes full of scorn, Threadbare is my coat, and my hosen are torn ; Scoff on, my rich Owen, for faint is thy glee, While the Maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me. The farmer rides proudly to market and fair, And the clerk at the tavern still claims the great chair, But, of all our proud fellows, the proudest I'll be, While the Maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly oa me. so Song of a Thousand Years. Copied by permission of Root & Cady, Music Publishers-, 95 Clark st., Chicago, owners of the copyright. Lift up your eyes, desponding freemen, Fling to the winds your needless fears ; He who unfurled your beauteous banner, Says it shall wave a thousand years. Chorus. — A thousand years, my own Columbia, Tis the glad day so long foretold ; , 'Tis the glad morn whose early twilight Washington saw in times of old. What if the clouds, one little moment, Hide the blue sky where morn appears, When the bright sun, that tints them crimson, Rises to shine a thousand years ? (Chorus.) Tell the great world these blessed tidings, Yes, and be sure the bondman hears ; Tell the oppressed of every nation Jubilee lasts a thousand years. (Chorus.) Envious foes, beyond the ocean, Little we heed your threatening sneers ; Little will they — our children's childKn — When you are gone a thousand years. (Chorus.) Rebels at home, go hide your faces, Weep for your crimes with bitter tears ; You could not bind the blessed daylight, Tho' you should strive a thousand years. (Ch's.) Back to your dens, ye secret traitors, Down to your own degraded spheres ; Ere the first blaze of dazzling sunshine Shortens your lives a thousand years. (Chorus.) 61 Haste thee along, thou glorious noonday ; Oh, for the eyes of ancient seers ! Oh, for the faith of Him who reckons Each of his days a thousand years. (Chokus,) The Parting of the Sailor's Wife. Poor Bessy was a sailor's wife, And he was off to sea, Their only child was by her side, And who so sad as she ; " Forget me not, forget me not, When thou art far from me, And whatsoe'er poor Bessy's lot, She will remember thee." A twelvemonth scarce had passed away, As it was told to me, When Willie with a gladsome heart, Came home again from sea ; He bounded up the craggy path, And sought his cottage door, Bui his sweet child and lovely wift Poor Willie saw no more. " Forget me not, forget me not !" The words rung in his ear, He asked the neighbors, one by one, The answer was a tear ; They pointed to the old churchyard, And there his youthful bride, And the pretty child he loved so well, Were resting side by side. 62 Isabel, Lost Isabel. Copied by permission of Sep. Winner, Music Publishew, 933 Spring Garden St., Philadelphia, owner of the copyright* The sweetest words in music clothed, That in my meru'iy live, Have not the charm that one kind word From thy fond lips could give ; And yet, alas, thou didst distrust The heart so true to thee ; Time yet may come in which thou must Again remember me, Isabel, lost Isabel. I love the scenes where we have strayed, Thy songs still haunt me yet ; Thy gifts I prize, thy words, thy smiles, I never can forget ; Farewell, farewell, since thou art gone, Sad is my lone decree ; But days may come in which thou must Again remember me, Isabel, lost Isabel. My thoughts still follow after thee, And wander here and there, Like thistle-down in autumn days Upon the chilly air ; Since thou art gone, fair Isabel, Whate'er thy dreams may be, Are there not hours in which again Thou must remember me ? Isabel, lost Isabel, S3 Jenny Brown and I. Copied by permission of Root & Cadt, Music Publiiher*, 05 Clark street, Chicago, owners of the copyright. 'Twas in the early spring-time, When the doves begin to coo, I walked across the valley, Sweet Jenny Brown to woo ; My path lay through the orchard, Whose sweetness filled the air, And ere I half had passed it, I met sweet Jenny there. Chorus. — Ah, yes, 'twas in the spring-time, When the doves begin to coo, I walked across the valley, Sweet Jenny Brown to woo. The apple boughs were laden, With blossoms budding low, And the withered leaves were falling, Like flakes of scented snow ; I told my love to Jenny, I scarce remember how, But she seemed to understand me, As she heard my trembling vow. (Chorus.) And she smiled a little archly, As she took a ribbon blue, And bent a twig down gently, And bound it firm and true ; And she said : " When on this branchlet, With ribbon I have tied, Hangs an apple ripe and rosy, Jenny Brown will be your bride." (Chorus.) And through the long glad summer, We watched that token true, 64 As it brightened in the sunshine, Or glistened in the dew ; And of all the lads and lasses That saw it, passing by, Not one could read its promise But Jenny Brown and L (Chorus.) At length the happy autumn Came smiling o'er the land, Its golden treasures flinging With free and bounteous hand ; And when with rip'ning fruitage, The apple boughs were red, I walked across the valley, Sweet Jenny Brown to wed. Chorus. — Ah, yes, 'twas in the autumn, When the apple boughs were red. I walked across the valley, Sweet Jenny Brown to wed. The Farmer's Daughter. " Where are you going, my pretty maid ?* " I'm going a milking, sir," she said ; " May I go with you, my pretty maid ?" "It's just as you please, kind sir," she said. " What is your father, my pretty maid ?" " My father's a farmer, sir," she said ; " Then I will marry you, my pretty maid ;" 11 It's not as you please, kind sir," she said. " What is your fortune, my pretty maid ?'r •c My face is my fortune, sir," she said ; " Then I can't marry you, my pretty maid ;" u Nobody asked you, sir," she said. BE^JDLE'ftS Song Book No. 13. A COLLECTION OT NEW AND P0PT7LA* COM AND SENTIMENTAL NEW YORK : BEADLE AND COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, 118 WILLIAM STREET. PUBLISHERS' NOTE. The music, with pianoforte arrangement, of any of the songs in Beadle's Dime Soxg Books, can be obtained of, or ordered through, any regular News or Periodical dealer ; or by forwarding twenty-five cents, direct to the ^publishers, whose names and address are attached to many of the piece*, the music will be sent by mail, post-paid. Beadle axd Company. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, By BEADLE AND COMPANY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. (S. B. 13.) CONTENTS No. 13. A song for the times, 63 A life by de galley lire, 14 An old man would be wooing, - - - - 55 Barney O'Hea, - - - w - - - , 50 Beautiful dreamer, - 10 Be sure you call, as you pass by, 25 Bonnie breast-knots, - -" - - -33 Christ will care for mother now, 18 Clara Kane, - - - 5 Close his eyes, his work is done, 36 Come in and shut the door, 31 Cuffee's war song, - - ' - - - . 43 Finignn's Wake," - 6 High times, good times, ----- 27 I dream of my mother and my home, - - - 30 I'd dream forevermore, 57 If you've only got a mustache, - - - - 40 I know a pretty widow, 58 I'll be home to-morrow, 44 I watch for thee in starless night, ... 44 I'll wait for thee at the gate, 10 In this beautiful land of'my dreams, - - - 7 Jonathan wants a wife, 43 Katy did, Katy didn't, 8 Kindly words'and smiling faces, - - - - 16 Kiss me as of old, mother, 47 Kiss me once more, mother, - - - - - 26 Lay me to rest, dear mother, 45 Life on the Canawl, - ----- - 29 Merry little birds are we, - - * - - 9 Molly dear, good-niii;ht, - - - ^ - 64 "Mother, will our Charley come?'* 53 My wife is a most knowing woman, - - - 60 Oh, I should like to marry, ... - 23 iy CONTENTS NO. 13. PA (SB. Oh, why am I so happy ? 56 One flag or no flag, - .... - - . 17 One single kiss, - - - • * • . • ' -36 Our Willie dear is dying, - • - v 54 Sam Slick, the Yankee peddler, * • - - 46 She was all the world to me, • :•" - - - 24 Sunshine and cloud,- — — ';-•- : - - - - 21 Sweet Evelina, - - - - - 51 Tell me, mother, can I go?* - - --32 Those evening bells, - • - ....,- 41 Thy mother will rock thee to sleep, - • - 38 Tony Pastor's combination song, 34 There's no such girl as mine, - - - - - 15 There are plenty of fish in the sea, - - - 22 The blind boy, - - - -':•.- - - 61 The child of the regiment, - - « - - • 13 The evacuation, - - « • • -• • - 20 The merry, merry vintage maid, • . -* » 19 The scientific frog, - - - - - $ -'■*/ • 49 The village maiden, - . ^ • * .,- ■,-•.-* , 39 The white cockade, *- ; - v- ^ ' * . - - 55 Weep no more for Lily, - ;.r - » / • - 37 Weep, Pompeyf weep, -,.-•** - ■ '- • *> 52 We'll fight for uncle Abe, r* *■■ ■ -. :. • - 59 We'll have a little dance J,o-night,J * : >, • ;.-' > -62 When this dreadful war is ended, .;. • 'vc laid her 'Neath the sighing cypress tree, And my heart with her is buried — She was all the world to me. Be sure You call, as You pass by. It was a rustic cottage gate, And over it a maiden leant, Upon her face and youthful grace, A lover's eyes were bent ; " Good-night," she said, " once more good-night, The evening 6tar is rising high, But early with the morning light, Be sure you call, as you pass by." Spring had into summer leapt, Brown autumn's hand her treasures threw, When forth a merry party swept, In bridal garments, two by two ; I saw it was the maid that blessed The evening star that rose so high, For he, as I suppose you've guessed, Had often called as he passed by. Oh, blissful lot, where all's forgot, Save love, that wreathes the heart with flow'rs, Oh, what's a throne, to that dear cot, Whose only wealth is happy hours ? I know, to leave their home they're loth, Although the evening starve high, But if you wish to see them both, Perchance you'll call as you pass by. 26 Kiss me once more, Mother. Copied by permission of Oliver Ditson & Co., Music Publishers, 277 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright. Kiss me once more, for the death damp is stealing Over my brow, mother, over my brow ; And round my poor heart the chill fingers are feeling, For close by my side stands the death angel now ; Oh, thus to die in my youth's early morning, Leaving you lonely my loss to deplore ; But the good Father will care for you, mother, I'll wait for you there on the shadowless shore. CHORL'S. Kiss me once more, kiss me once more, I'm bound to the land of the shadowless shore ; I hear the sweet music of those gone before, Kiss me once more, mother, kiss me once more. Kiss me once more, for the daylight is stealing, Dim grows my sight, mother, dim grows my sight ; And through the dark waters I soon shall be wading, And these eyes must close in the ne'er ending night ; But I'll awake in a lovelier region, Where the pure spirits shall know death no more ; Where the sweet flowers shall fade not, dear mother, I'll wait for you there on the shadowless shore. Kiss me once more, for there seems a soft whisp'ring Close to my ear, mother, close to my ear ; The angels are waiting, their bright wings are glist'ning, Their music so soft and so soothing I hear ; Home, going home, for my work here is ending, Soon I shall join those who've gone on before ; Down by the banks, with the seraphs, dear mother, I'll wait for you there on the shadowless shore. 27 High Times, Good Times. Copied by permission of Oliver Ditson & Co., Music Publishers, 277 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright Oh, de Yanks hab come and gone and went, And done it down in Dixie, And de massa take de gals and run away ; Oh, dey play de berry cloben foot Around in dis bicinity, And dey gib de darkeys all a hollerday. CHORUS. High times, good times, down in massa's kitchum, Dis chile he gain jes' sebcn poun's a day ; Oh, fillima, illima, boo, hurrah, I'se gwine to be a Gin'ral, Oh, dat's what all de Yankee sojers say. Oh, ole massa say he wish he know, Which side would get a lickin', Den he know prezactly what de word to say ; But he awful frighten when he hear, De Yanks hab come for certainty, Den he fink his health so poor he couldn't stay. Oh, dey said dat when de Yankees come, Dey'd lick dem all to pieces, But I t'ink de lickin' s all de oder way ; Dis yere chile hab seen some runnin', But dat beat his whole consperiance, As the courthouse says 'twas done widout delay. Dere's Clem and Lem, and Pomp and Tom, And Titus all a dancin', And ole Egypt's took de fiddle for to play ; Dis darkies feet won't keep De parallagram uuticular, Case dey want to celebrate dis hollerday. Tour Fortune is too Small for Me, Copied by permission of Horace Water?, Music Publisher, 481 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. My Sallie, long I've loved you, dear, And longer still I may ; And, love, if you but had the c7iink9 I'd marry you to-day ; This heart and hand would soon be yours, If you but had the dimes ; A purse as long and lank as thine Won't do for these hard times. There's Molly Grimes, she offered me Her fortune and her heart, If I'd consent to change her name, And make her Molly Smart ; But then her fortune proved to bo So very far away, I thought before I got the tin, There might be some delay. They say you have an Uncle, love, That's very rich and old, And that he means to leave to you His silver and his gold ; If so, my love, my dearest love, Don't throw yourself away, But take my heart and give me yours, And name the happy day. Your fortune now's too small for me, I'm sure it would not suit, I can not give my heart for thine Unless you give me boot ; 29 Then, Sallie, while your Uncle lives, I'll flirt with cousin Sue, And when he dies if you know what, In faith I'll marry you. Life on the CanawL A life on the raging canawl, A homo on its muddy deep, Where through summer, spring and fall The frogs their vigils keep ; Like a fish on the hook I pine, On this dull, unchanging shore : Oh, give me the packet line, And the muddy canawl's dull roar. Once more on the deck I stand Of my own swift gliding craft ; The horses trot off on the land, And the boat follows close abaft ; We shoot through the turbid foam Like a bull-frog in a squall, And, like the frogs, our home We'll find in the muddy canawL The sun is no longer in view, The clouds have begun to frown. But, with a bumper or two, We'll say, let the storm come down ; And this song we'll sing, one and all, While the storm around us pelts, A life on the muddy canawl, Oh, we don't want " nothin* else." I Dream of My Mother and' My Home. Copied by permission of Horace "Waters, Music Publisher. 4S1 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. My mother and my home, Ah, what pleasant words to me ; They light up my drooping heart Wherever I may be ; And the joys of other days O'er my senses gently glide, While lonely I struggle With the world's busy tide ; While I rest from my toils At the close of day, And bright, happy visions Around me play. My mother, my mother, my dear and gentle mother, I dream of my mother and my home. My mother and my home, Ah, the happy days are gone, When all their sweet blessings Were around my pathway thrown ; But visions of bright days Will still come back again, Renewing departed joys Like some familiar strain ; I see many homes Filled with mirth and glee ; But now, in this wide world, There's none for me ; But the hours brighter grow, and my heart beats free, When I dream of my mother and my home. 31 Come in and Shut the Door. Copied by permission of Firth, Son & Co., Music Publisher!. 563 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. Oh, do not stand so long outside, Why need you be so shy ? The people's eyes are open, John, As they are passing by ; You can not tell what they may think, They've said strange thing before, And if you want to talk a while, Come in and shut the door. Cnomus — Come in, come in, come in, come in, Come in, come in and shut the door ; Come in, come in, come in, come in, Come in, come in and shut the door. Kay, do not say, " No, thank you, Jane," With such a bashful smile — You said when ladies whispered " no," They meant " yes" all the while ; My father, too, will welcome you — I told you that before ; It doesn't look well standing here, Come in and shut the door. (Chorus.) You said I did not answer you, To what was said last night ; I heard your question in the dark, Thought on it in the light ; And now my lips shall utter what My heart has said before, Yes, dearest, I — but stay, awhile — Come m and shut the door. (Chorus.) Tell me, Mother, can I go? Copied by permission of Wm. Hall & Son, Music Publisher*, 643 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. I am writing to you, mother, Knowing well what you wiH say, When you read with tearful fondness, What I write to you to-day ; Knowing, too, the flame of ardor On each loyal mother's part, That will kindle with each impulse, With each throbbing of your heart. Chorus — Oh, mother, oh, mother, Oh, mother, can I go ? I am eager, anxious, longing, Tell me, mother, can I go ? I am young and slender, mother, They would call me yet a boy, But I know the land I live in, And the blessings I enjoy ; I am old enough, my mother, To be loyal, proud and true To the faithful sense of party I have ever learned from you. (Choevb.) I have written to you, mother, With a consciousness of right— I am thinking of you, fondly, With a loyal heart to-night ; When I have your noble bidding, Which shall tell me to press on, I will come and kiss you, mother, Come and kiss you and be gone. 33 We must conquer this rebellion, Let the doubting heart be still ; AVe must conquer it or perish — "We must conquer and we will ! But the faithful must not falter, And shall I be wanting ? No 1 Bid me go, my dearest mother, Tell me, mother, can I go ? (Chohus.) Bonnie Breast-knots. Hey the bonny, oh, the bonny, Hey the bonny breast-knots ; Blithe and merry were they aT, 'When they put on the breast-knots. There was a bridal in our town, And till't the lasses a* were boun*, Wi' mangle facings a' their gowns, And some o' them had breast-knots. Singing, hey the bonny, etc. At nine o'clock the lads convene, Some clad in blue, some clad in green, AVi' shining buckles i' their sheen, And flowers upon their waistcoats ; Out cam the wives a' wi' applause, And wished the lassie happy days, And muckle thought they o1 her claes, Especially the breast-knots ; The bride was young, the bride was fair, Wi' faultless form an' graceful air, Her looks they weru 'yond a compare, AVhen she put on the breast-knots. Ringing, hey the bonnv, etc. No. 13 2 34 Tony Pastor's Combination Song. Copied by permission of Oliver Ditson & Co., Music Publishers, 277 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright. As you walk through the town on a fine summer's day, The subject of my song you have met on your way ; On railings and on fences, wherever you may go, You will see the penny ballads stuck up in a row ; The titles for to read, you may stop for a while, And some are so odd they will cause you to smile ; I've noted them down, as I read them along, And I've put them all together to make up my song. There was "Abraham's daughter" "Goin' out on a spree," With " Old Uncle Snow," " In the cottage by the sea ;" " If your foot is pretty show it " at " Lanigan's ball," And " Why did she leave him " " On the raging canawl ;" There was " Bonny Annie Laurie," " With the jockey hat and feather," " I don't much think of you," " We were boys and girls together," 44 Do they think of me at home," " I'll be gay and happy still," "Take your time, Miss Lucy Long," with "The sword of Bunker Hill." " When this cruel war is over " " No Irish need apply," "For every thing is lovely," and "The goose hangs high ;" " That young girl from New Jersey," " Oh, wilt thou be my bride ?" And " Oft in the stilly night" " We'll all take a ride ;" " Let me kiss him for his mother," " He's a gay young gambolier," " I am going to fight mit Sigel" and "De bully lager bier ;" 35 44 Ilunky Boy is Yankee Doodle," " When the cannons loudly roar," " "We are coming, Father Abraham," u Three hundred dollars more." M In the days when I was hard up," and u My Mary Ann," M My Johnny was a shoemaker," " Or any other man ;" "The Captain with the whiskers," and "Annie of the vale," " Along with old Bob Ridley," " A riding on a rail ;" 44 Oh, rock me to sleep, mother," "Tin going round the Horn;' 4' I'm not myself at all," " I'm a bachelor forlorn ;" 44 Mother, is the battle over?" ''What are the men about?" 4,IIow are you, Horace Greeley?" 44 Does your mother know you're out ?" 44 We won't go home till morning," with " The bold privateer," 44 Annie Lisle " and 44 Zouave Johnny " i4 Ridin' in a railroad keer ;" 44 We are coming, sister Mary," with 4i The folks that put on airs," 44 We are marching along," with 44 The four and thirty stars ;" 44 You are going far away," 4i The good-by at the door," 44 And did you sec my sister," with " The ring my mother w • 44 Our Union's starry banner," 44The flag of Washington," Shall float victorious o'er the land, from Maine to Oregon. 3S Close his Eyes, his Work is Done. Copied by permission of Oliver Ditson & Co., Music Publishers, 277 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright. Close his eyes, his work is done ! "What to him is friend or foeman, Rise of moon or set of sun, Hand of man or kiss of woman ? Chorus — Lay him low, lay him low, Under the clover or under the snow ; What cares he ? He can not know, Lay him low, lay him low. As man may, he fought his fight, Proved his truth by his endeavor ; Let him sleep in solemn night, Sleep forever and forever. (Chorus.) Fold him in his country*s stars, Roll the drum and fire the volley ; What to him are all our wars ? What but death bemocking folly ? (Chorus.) Leave him to God's watching eye, Trust him to the Hand that made him ; Mortal love weeps idly by, God alone has power to save him. (Chorus.) One Single Kiss. Copied by permission of Horace Waters, Music Publisher, 481 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. Come, oh, come, my dearest little girl, Thy lover is here waiting ; Listen to the rideldididow, ]VIy banjo now is making. Rideldidow, rideldididow, romtom, romtom, etc. 37 I then shall tell you all I feel, If thou will only hear me ; But, being like the writhing eel, "When caught 'tis hard to hold thee. From thy sweet lips one single kiss, Is all that I was asking ; " No, no," thou saidst, " this is a bliss I can not yet be granting." Take, then, sweet girl, my heart and hand, 'Tis all that I am owning ; But do not longer now withstand, Come, listen to my wooing. Weep no More for Lily, Copied by permission of Horace Waters, Music Publisher, 431 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. Lily of the valley, Modest, sweet and mild, Ever pure and lovely Was the gentle child ; Sunny hair had Lily, Eyes of azure blue, Footstep soft and gentle As the failing of the dew, Chohus, — "Weep no more for Lily, Lily's gone above ; Angels came and bore her to the land of love. Smiling as the sunbeam, Was her face so fair, Passing like a day-dream, A zephyr of the air ; Tripping o'er the heather, Light her footstep fell, Bearing ever with her Fairy's mystic spell. (Chorus.) 38 Thy Mother will Eock Thee to Sleep. Has the cold, cold world, my darling, Left its imprint on thy heart ? Has the inem'ry of thy mother E'er been suffered to depart ? Though thy heart is warm and loving, Let the future its wealth keep j Till, when life's sad dream is over, I shall rock my child to sleep. Do the sweet thoughts of thy childhood Tempt thy lone heart to rebel ? And with mem'ries of life's freshness, Ask thy tears of grief to swell ? Think of scenes where joy eternal Gleams with beauty undefiled, Where sweet happiness dwells ever — I shall rock to sleep my child. "Wreath thy face in smiles so rosy, That the noonday sun shall pale ; And let tears of woe and sorrow, On thy- bright face tell no tale ; Though thy path be hard and thorny, Do not stay to fear or weep, For when thou shalt cross death's river, I will rock my child to sleep. Let no shadows e'er dismay thee, Let no grief thy heart annoy ; Think ©f realms where I am waiting For thee with a smile of joy ; Angel arms shall bear thee upward, Angels shall their vigils keep ; When, in lands of bliss unfading, I shall rock my child to sleep. 39 The Village Maiden. Copied by permission of Firtit, Son & Co., Music Publishers, 563 Broadway, N. Y., owners of the copyright. The village bells are ringing, And merrily they chime ; The village choir is singing, For 'tis a happy time ; The chapel walls are laden With garlands rich any gay, To greet the village maiden Upon her wedding day ; To greet the village maiden Upon her wedding day. But summer joys have faded, And summer hopes have flown, Her brow with grief is shaded, Her happy smiles are gone ; Yet why her heart is laden, Not one, alas, can say, Who saw the village maiden Upon her wedding day. The village bells are ringing, But hark, how sad and slow, The village choir is singing A requiem soft and low. And all with sorrow laden Their tearful tribute pay, Who saw the village maiden Upon her wedding day. 40 If You've only got a Mustache. Copied by permission of Horace Waters, Music Publisher, 4S1 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. Oh, all of you poor single men, Don't ever give up in despair, For there's always a chance while there's life To capture the hearts of the fair ; No matter what may be your age, You always may cut a fine dash, You will suit all the girls to a hair If you've only got a mustache ; A mustache, a mustache, If you've only got a mustache. No matter for manners or style, No matter for birth or for fame, All these used to have something- to do With young ladies changing their name There's no reason now to despond, Or go and do any thing rash, For you'll do, though you can't raise a cent, If you'll only raise a mustache ; A mustache, a mustache, If you'll only raise a mustache. Your head may be as thick as a block, And empty as any foot-ball, Oh, your eyes may be green as the grass, Your heart just as hard as the wall ; Yet take the advice that I give, You will soon gain affection and cash, And will be all the rage with the girls If you'll only get a mustache ; A mustsche, a mustache, If you'll only get a mustache. 41 I once was in sorrow and tear-, Because I was jilted, you know, So right down to the river I ran To quickly dispose of my woe ; A good friend, he gave me advice, And timely prevented the splash, Now at home IVe a wife and ten heirs, And all through a handsome mustache, A mustache, a mustache, And all through a handsome mustache. Those Evening Bells. Those evening bells, those evening bells How many a tale their music tells, Of youth and home, and that sweet time When last I heard their soothing chime ; Of youth and home, and that sweet time "When last I heard their soothing chime. Those joyous hours have passed away, And many a heart that then was gay, "Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those ev'ning bells ; •"Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those ev'ning bells And so 'twill be when I am gone, That tuneful peal will still ring on, "While other bards shall wake these dells, And sing your praise, sweet ev'ning bells ; "While other bards shall wake these dells, And sing your praise, sweet ev'ning bells. 43 Willie has Gone to the War. Copied by permission of Wm. A. Pond & Co., Music Publisher*, 547 Broadway, N. Y., owners of *the copyright. The blue-bird is singing his lay, To all the sweet flow'rs of the dale, The wild bee is roaming at play, And soft is the sigh of the gale ; I stray by the brookside alone, Where oft we have wandered before, And weep for my loved one, my own, My Willie has gone to the war. Chords — Willie has gone to the war, Willie, Willie, my loved one, my own, Willie has gone to the war, Willie, Willie, my loved one, is gone. 'Twas here, where the lily bells grow, I last saw his noble young face, And now, while he's gone to the foe, Oh, dearly I love the old place ; The whispering waters repeat The name that I love o'er and o'er And daises that nod at my feet, Say Willie has gone to the war. The leaves of the forest will fade, The roses will wither and die, But spring to our home in the glade On fairy-like pinions will fly ; And still I will hopefully wait The day when these battles are o'er, And pine like a bird for its mate, Till Willie comes homes from the war. 43 Jonathan wants a Wife. Jonathan. I can not tell the reason, bnt I really want a wtfc, And every body tells me 'tis the sweetest thing in life, But as for cheeks like roses, and pouting lips, and such, I know no more about them than Ponto does the Dutch. Teedle ol lol, teedle ol lol, teedle ol de da. Harriet, {imitating). If I consent to have you we must reside in town, And sport a coach and horses to travel up and down, With footman all in livery to make a splendid show, And when you don't attend me, 1*11 get another beau. Teedle ol lol, etc. Jonathan. If that's your calculation, we never can agree, For such a mode of living will never do me, And as for beaux and lovers,though you may like the fun, I guess the deacon's Sally will be content with one. Teedle ol lol, Harriet. Oh, then, you do not love me? Jonathan. I never said I would. Harriet. Did you not swear this moment — Jonathan. To love you if I could. Harriet. Go, take the deacon's Sally, with her linsey woolsey gown. Jonathan. I guess as how I better, for I will not live in town. Harriet. Teedle ol lol, Jonathan. Teedle ol lol, Harriet. Teedle ol lol, Both. Teedle lol de da. 44 Fll be Home To-morrow. Copied "by permission of Wm. A. Pond & Co., Music Publishers, 547 Broadway, New York, owners o^ the copyright. I've wandered far from those I love, And many years have passed, Since in my dear old cherished liome I saw their faces last ; But now I am returning, And my journey soon will end, I'll join the throng where happy smiles And gentle voices blend. Chorus — Farewell, farewell, Ev'ry cloud of sorrow, All my heart is filled with joy, For I'll be home to-morrow, How dear the hearts that dwell within That sweet domestic realm ; I know that they, have longed for me As I have longed for them ; The thought that I am near them, Makes my lonely spirit yearn To hear the burst of gladness That will welcome my return. I Watch for Thee in Starless Night. I watch for thee in starless night, I list for thee when winds are still, Look forth, thine eyes shall give me light, Speak, and my heart with music fill. Good-night, good-night, good-night, good-night, My watch I keep near to thee, While others sleep, good-night, good-night, Good-night, a thousand times good-night. 45 What, will thine eyes not deign to shine ? Nay, then, my heart is lone and drear ; What, will thy voice not answer mine ? My song thou wilt not come to hear ? Good-night, good-night, good night, Good-night, ah let me hear, That one word my soul to cheer, Good-night, a thousand times good-night. Lay Me to Best, Dear Mother. Copied by permission of Firth, Son & Co., Music Publisher*, 563 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. The beauty and sweetness of morning, Have faded in darkness and night, And roses that bloomed at its dawning, Have vanished in shade from our sight ; The breezes that fanned with their motion Are wear}', and all, save the crest Of the restless and murmuring ocean, Is sleeping — oh, lay me to rest. Chorus — The voices of loved ones are calling, In realms of the good and the blest, Are calling me upward to heaven, Dear mother, oh, lay me to rest. I've watched through the day, darling mother, For loved ones that never may come, The fondest among them dear brother, Who ne'er will return to our home ; They say he was manly and fearless, And fell with the bravest and best, Without him our home will be cheerless, The angels have laid him to rest. 46 Sam Slick, the Yankee Peddler. I'm a cute young gentleman, I guess, In ev'ry thing a meddler ; Why, don't you know me ? I am no less Than Samuel Slick, the peddler ; I've articles first-rate and new, In course, the lowest prices, For men and women — young'uns, too, To suit all sorts and sizes. I've side combs — first-rate tortoise-shell — Against the world I'll back 'em ; If they underneath a cart-wheel fell It wouldn't even crack 'em ; I've got some razors spic-span new, Invented by my dad, oh ! So sharp they'd cut your leg in two, If you only crossed their shadow. I've watch-guards made in reg'lar stylo- New Yorkers Only make 'em — A thief might drag you fifty miles, I guess, before he'd break 'em ; I've spectacles to clear the sight, And light as any feather — You may see to read in pitch dark night, And slick through foggy weather. Here's wedding-rings and negligees — And ear-rings none so dusty ; Pins and bodkins, if you please, For maidens old and fusty ; So come, young ladies, don't be slow, In all things I'm a meddler — Sport your dollars, 'fore I go, With Sam, the Yankee peddler. 47 Kiss me as of old, Mother. Copied by permission of Wm. Hall 3 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. Molly, dear, I can not linger ; Let me soon be gone ; Time now points with warning finger Toward the coming dawn. When the noisy, weary day, Shall have toiled its cares away, To thy side again I'll stray ; Then, Molly dear, good-night ! Smile away the coming morrow Till my sure return ; Why should fond hearts part in sorrow ? Grief too soon we learn. Hours of bliss must come and go, Constant pleasures none can know, Joy must have its ebb and flow ; Then, Molly dear, good-night. On thy form, with beauty laden, All my thoughts will be ; Purer love ne'er blessed a maiden, Than I hold for thee ; While thine eyes in beauty glance, While thy smiles my aoul entrance, Still the fleeting hours advance ; Then, Molly dear, good-night BEADLE'S DIME 2 Song Book No. 14. COLLECTION' OF NEW AND POPULAR COMIC AND SENTIMENTAL 3STE W YORK : BEADLE AND COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, 118 WILLIAM STREET. PUBLISHERS' NOTE. The music, with pianoforte arrangement, of any of the songs in Beadle's Dime Song Books, can be obtained of, or ordered through, any regular News or Periodical dealer; or by forwarding twenty-five cents, direct to the publishers, whose names and address are attached to many of the pieces, the music will be sent by mail, post-paid. Beadle and Company. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, By BEADLE AND COMPANY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. CONTENTS No. 14. PAGB. A sweet brier rose is mv Mollie, 12 All hail to Ulysses, - 11 Angels listen when she speaks, - 7 Beautiful child of song, 43 Better times are coming, 21 Bright-eyed Maggie, 31 Brother,* tell me^of the battle, .... 48 Carroty top, 26 Columbia's guardian angel, 52 Corporal Schnapps, 6 De day ob liberty's comin', 56 Den you'll remember me, 43 Down by the river, 36 44 Farmer Stubbs' " visit to New York City, - - 62 Five o'clock in the morning, 61 I can not bid thee go, my boy, - 0*2 I'd choose to be a baby, - - * - - - 50 I'll love thee as long as I live, - - - - 58 I'm dying far from those I love, 44 I'm quite a ladies' man, 19 I never had a beau, 23 In this old chair my father sat, - - - - 58 I'se on de way, - 51 It's no use teasinir Pollv, 53 Just after the battle, - 20 Katie Lee and Willie Gray, 46 Kissing on the slv, 14 Little Alice, - 57 Lottie in the lane, 9 Man- Fay, 42 Maudie Moore, 35 Mermaid's song, - - 55 Mother's gentle voice, 59 Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, - - - - 41 iv CONTENTS NO. 14 PAGS. People will talk, 40 " Sing softly, love," 18 Softly now, tenderly, lift him with care. - - 5 Stand up for Uncle Sam, my boys, - - - 25 Sweet little Nell, 15 The Corporal's musket, 16 The courtin' time, 10 The daughter's dream, 10 The maids of dear Columbia, - ... 87 The minstrel's tear, 29 The music store window, 54 The old brown cot, - - - - ■ - - - 13 The old house by the hill, 8 The old man's reverie, 39 The old sexton, 49 The sands of Dee, 27 Uncle Ben, the Yankee, 45 u Uncle Sam's funeral," 28 Washington and Lincoln, 34 When will he come back to me, - - - - 24 When the moon with glory brightens, - • 33 When will my darling boy return ? - - - 38 Whoever can he be ? 30 Will you come to meet me, darling ? - - 32 Will you wed me now I'm lame, lore ? - - GO BEADLE'S DIME SONG BOOK No. 14. Softly now, Tenderly. Copied by permission of Oliver Ditsok Lli:'8S Song Book No. 15. A. COLLECTION OF NEW AND POPULA* COMIC AND SENTIMENTAL SONGS. NEW YORK: 118 WILLIAM STREET. GENERAL DIME BOOK PUBLISHERS. PUBLISHERS' NOTE. The music, with pianoforte arrangement, of any of the songs in Beadle's Dime Song Books, can be obtained of, or ordered through, any regular News or Periodical dealer ; or by forwarding twenty-five cents, direct to the publishers, whose names and address are attached to many of the pieces, the music will be sent by mail, post-paid. Beadle and Company. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, By BEADLE AND COMPANY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. (S. B. 15.) CONTENTS No. 15. PAGE. And home I came merry at last, - - - -61 Bachelor's lament, - 47 Charming Lizzie Clay, 48 Come home, father, - - • - - - 34 Comrades, touch the elbow, 9 Cora Dean, 57 De old corn -mill, 33 De United States hotel, 4C Do they pray for me at home? - - - -21 For Phil. Sheridan, hurrah, .... 35 Friends of the Union, 51 God save John Bull, 49 Go way, black man, 28 How are you, conscript, 23 How do you like it. Jefferson D. ? - - - - 16 I am lonely to-night, 13 I hear sweet voices singing, - - - - - 25 I'm a young man from the country, 60 Is that mother bending o'er me ? - - - - 11 Kate O-' Shane, 53 Lay me down and save the flag, - - - - 52 Let me die face to the foe, 30 Lora Vale, 17 Mouy Doolan, 64 Mother, when the war is over, - - - -26 Mount, boys, mount, 45 My beautiful Lizzie, 44 My country so dear, 29 Mv own, mv guiding star, 63 My Pollv Ann, 50 Nancy Fat, 10 Nellie Lee, 27 Oh, let him rest, 20 Oh, take me to thy heart again, ... 55 CONTEXTS NO. 15. PAGE. Oh, why did you die? - 62 Old cabin home, 8 Ole massa on he trabbels gone, - - - - 58 Our color-guard, - 15 Sally, come up, 63 Sambo's right to be kilt, 12 Shall we ever meet again ? • - - - 31 Song of the soldiers, ------ 56 Stand by the flag, 46 Swinging in the lane, 24 Tenting on the old camp-ground, - - - - 14 The bird-song, 19 The blue-eyed boy, - - - - ~- 43 . The cracksman's chant, 32 The invalid corps, 7 The little brown cot, 59 The new skedaddle song, 22 The snow-white blossoms, 37 The swords were thirty-seven, - - - - 42 The troubadour, 39 The untamable shrew, 38 'Twas off the blue Canaries, 36 We shall be known above, 54 When Johnny comes marching home, 18 When the boys come home, 5 You don't know how we've missed you, - - 6 BEADLE'S DIME SONG BOOK No. 15. When the Boys come Home. Copied by permission of Sawter& Thompson, Music Publisher!, 59 Fulton avenue, Brooklyn, owners of the copyright. The boys are coming home again, This war will soon be o'er ; The North and South again will stand United as of yore ; Yes, hand in hand, and arm in arm, Together we will roam ; Oh, won't we have a happy time, When all the boys come home. Chorus — 'We'll hoist the good old flag again, On freedom's lofty dome ; And live in peace and happiness, When all the boys come home. We'll have no x*\ore false hopes and fears, No more heartrending sighs — The messenger of peace will dry The weary mourner's eyes ; We'll laugh and sing, we'll dance and play — Ah, wait until they come, And joy will crown the happy day When all the boys come home. How proud the nation then will stand I United evermore, We'll bid defiance to the foe That dare approach our shore ; "We'll hoist the good old flag again On freedom's lofty dome, And live in peace and happiness When all the boys come home. You don't know how we' ve missed you. Copied by permission of Sawyer & Thompson/MusIc Publishers, 59 Fulton avenue, Brooklyn, owners of the copyright. You don't know how we miss you, dear, How long the days now seem ; Our once contented, cheerful home, Is as a faded dream ; Your dear old father, all the day, Does nothing else but mourn ; At night he dreams you're home again, But wakes to find you gone. Your mother — oh, if you could see How gray her locks have grown ; How deep the " care-marks " on her brow, And sorrowful her tone ; We try to cheer her weary heart, But find 'tis all in vain ; She for a moment faintly smiles But soon is sad again. Yes, darling, you but little know How changed and sad is home ; All thoughts of joy and happiness Have faded, vanished, gone ; The little birds yet sweetly sing And flowers bloom as gay, But we are lonely, sorrowful While you are far away. The Invalid Corps. Copied by permission of Henry Tolman& Co., Music Publishers, 291 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright. I wanted much to go to war, And went to be examined ; The surgeon looked me o'er and o'er, My back and chest he hammered ; Said he : " You're not the man for me, Your lungs are much affected, And likewise both your eyes are cocked, And otherwise defected." Chorus — So now I'm with the invalids, And can not go and fight, sir ; The doctor told me so, you know, Of course it must be right, sir. While I was there, a host of chaps For reasons were exempted ; Old " pursy," he was laid aside, To pass he had attempted ; The doctor said : " I do not like Your corporosity, sir ; You'll ■ breed a famine ' in the camp, Wherever you might be, sir." There came a fellow, mighty tall, A knock-kneed over-growner ; The doctor said : " I ain't got time To take and look you over." Next came along a little chap, Who was about two-foot-nothing ; The doctor said : " You'd better go And tell your marin you're coming." Some had the ticerdolerreon, Some what they call " brown critters," And some were lank and lazy too, Some were too " fond of bitters ;" Some had u cork legs," and some " one eye," With backs deformed end crooked ; I'll bet you'd laughed till you had cried, To see how "cute" they looked The Old Cabin Home. Copied by permission of Henry Tolman & Co., Music Publishers, 291 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright. I am going far away, Far away to leave you now, To the Mississippi river I am going ; I will take my old banjo, And I'll sing this little song, Away down in my old cabin home. Chorus — Here is my old cabin home, Here is my sister and my brother ; Here lies my wife, the joy of my life, And my child in the grave with its mother When old age comes on, And my hair is turning gray, I will hang up the banjo all alone ; I'll set down by the fire, And I'll pass the time away, Away down in my old cabin home, Tis there where I roam, Away down on de old farm, Where all the darkies am free ; Oh, merrily sound de banjo, For de white folks round de room Away down in my old cabin home. Comrades, touch the Elbow. Copied by permission of Ftrth, Sox & Co., Mnsic Publishers, 563 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. "WTien battle's music greets our ear, Our guns are sighted on the foe , Then nerve the arm and banish fear, And, comrades, touch the elbow. CHORUS. Touch the elbow now, my boys. Comrades, touch the elbow ; Nerve the arm and banish fear, And, comrades, touch the elbow For home and country, patriot's fire Kindle cur souls with fervid glow, And southern traitors shall retire When northmen touch the elbow Though many brave men bite the sod. And crimson heart's blood freely flow, Shout as our spirit soars above — On, comrades ! touch the elbow ! Though cannon-ball may plow the rank, And though it cast a deadly glow, Fill up the space the ball made blank, And, comrades, touch the elbow. Now show the stuff of which you're made, The general signal, M March !" Hallo ! Double the quickstep, Third Brigade ! Charge ! Comrades, touch the elbow ! 10 Nancy Fat. Copied by permission of Wm. A. Poitd & Co., Music Publisher!, 547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. Oh, Nancy Fat, she was a gal, Fair and tall and slender, The fairest gal I ever saw, In all the female gender ; A lovely foot I know she had, Into a boot to thrust, Her ankles small were made for use, To keep from it the dust. Czjorus — Oh, Nancy Fat, what are you at ? I love you as no other ; Oh, Nancy Fat, get out #f that, "With sweetness me you'll smother. Oh, Nancy Fat, she had a mouth, I can not now describe it, It opened like a safety-valve, When she wished to divide it ; And well I knows she had a nose, And ev'rybody knows it, The end of it just looks as if The brandy bottle froze it. Oh, Nancy Fat had two such eyes, Like burnt holes in a blanket, The inspiration from her soul I took it in and drank it ; She says this darkey am so sweet, She loves me like molasses ; Dat small machine she calls her heart, Goes pit pat as it passes. 11 If Nancy Fat does many mc, How nice we'll live together, She and I and all de bairns, Like ducks in rainy weather ; And as we march unto de church. And hear de bells a ringing De joy will break dis niggar's heart, To hear de darkies singing. Is that Mother bending o'er me? Copied by permission of Oltveh Ditsox & Co., Music Pub! ishers, 277 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright. Is that mother bending o'er me, As she sung my cradle hymn, Kneeling there in tears before me ? Say ! my sight is growing dim. Comes she from the old home lowly, Out among the Northern hills, To her pet boy, dying slowly Of war's battle-wounds and ills ? Mother ! oh, we bravely battled — Battled till the day was done, While the leaden hail-storm rattledr— Man to man, and gun to gun. But we failed, and I am dying — Dying in my boyhood's years ; There — no weeping, self-denying — Noble deaths demand no tears. Fold your arms again around mc ; Press again my aching head ; Sing the lullaby you sung me ; Kiss me, mother, ere I'm dead. 12 Sambo's Right to be Kilt. Copied by permission of Wm. Hall & Son, Music Publishers, 543 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. Some tell me 'tis a burnin' shame, To make the naygers fight, And that the trade of bein, kilt Belongs but to the white ; But as for me, upon my sowl So lib'ral are we here, I'd let Sambo be shot instead of myself, On ev'ry day in the year ; On ev'ry day in the year, boys, And in every hour in the day, The right to be kilt I'll divide with him, And devil a word I'll say. In battle's wild commotion, I shouldn't at all object, If Sambo's body should stop a ball That's comin' for me direct ; And the prod of a southern bagnet, So ginerous are we here, I'll resign and let Sambo take it, On ev'ry day in the year ; On ev'ry day in the year, boys, And wid none iv your nasty pride, All my rights in a southern bagnet prod, Wid Sambo I'll divide. The men who object to Sambo, Should take his place and fight ; And it's better to have a nayger's hue, Than a liver that's wake and white , 13 Though Sambo's black as the ace of spades, Ilis fingers a trigger can pull ; And his eye runs straight on the barrel-sight, From under its thatch of wool ; On ev'ry day in the year, boys, Don't think that I'm tippin' you chaff, The right to be kilt we'll divide with him, boys, And give him the largest half. I am Lonely To-Night. Copied by permission of Wx. A. Pond