Songs of Stephen Foster - The Lyrics

To sing a little song; Miss Dolcy send me warning. To bring my boots along; For de yard is paved wid sinder, And de house is built ob stones. And a head is at de .
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Foster's own reputation became more respectable through these plays. Although his songs largely dealt with life in the South, Foster himself had little firsthand experience there, only having visited New Orleans in on his honeymoon. Foster tried to make a living as a professional songwriter, and may be considered a pioneer in this respect, since this field of endeavor did not yet exist in the modern sense.

Consequently, due in part to the poor provisions for music copyright and composer royalties at the time, Foster saw very little of the profits which his works generated for sheet music printers. Multiple publishers often printed their own competing editions of Foster's tunes, paying Foster nothing. Beginning in his musical fortunes began to decline, and as they did so did the quality of his new songs, at least in the perception of the contemporary public; this may well have been a result of his teaming with George Cooper, who took over the writing of lyrics for many of Foster's tunes.

The wartime economy was also detrimental to his publishing efforts. Stephen Foster died impoverished while living at the North American Hotel at 30 Bowery on the Lower East Side of Manhattan possessing exactly 38 cents at the age of In his pocket was a scrap of paper with only the enigmatic, dear friends and gentle hearts , written on it.

STEPHEN FOSTER LYRICS

He is buried in the Allegheny Cemetery in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. And I think he merged them in a way that appeals to the multicultural mongrel experience of America in its history and culture. Ken Emerson writes about intersection of music and culture. He also the author of Always Magic in the Air: Courtesy Ken Emerson hide caption. Emerson also points out that many of Foster's songs were more sophisticated than he had originally imagined. He was a much more conscious writer who didn't just compose his songs. Although some of Foster's blackface lyrics are abhorrent -- the second verse of "Oh!

Susanna" is a shocker -- at their best they imbue African Americans with a dignity and pathos that were unprecedented. No songwriter had called a black woman a lady before "Nelly Was a Lady. Down on de Mississippi floating, Long time I trabble on de way, All night de cottonwood a toting, Sing for my true-lub all de day. While many of his plantation melodies frequently expressed sympathy for the plight of slaves, Foster published scarcely any songs of political protest. It was probably inspired by widespread economic distress in and by Charles Dickens' recently serialized novel Hard Times, set in an imaginary Coketown -- "a town of machinery and tall chimneys, out of which interminable serpents of smoke trailed themselves forever and ever" -- that may have reminded Foster of Pittsburgh.

Round de meadows am a ringing De darkeys' mournful song, While de mockingbird am singing, Happy as de day am long. Where de ivy am a reeping O'er de grassy mount, Dere old massa am a sleeping Sleeping in de cold, old ground. Down in de cornfield Hear dat mournful sound: All de darkeys am a weeping Massa's in de cold, cold ground. When de autumn leaves were falling, When de days were cold, 'Twas hard to hear old massa calling, Cayse he was so weak and old. Now de orange tree am blooming On de sandy shore, Now de summer days am coming, Massa nebber calls no more. Massa made de darkeys love him, Cayse he was so kind, Now dey sadly weep above him, Mourning cayse he leave dem behind.

I cannot work before tomorrow, Cayse de tear drop flow, I try to drive away my sorrow Pickin on the old banjo. The Hour for Thee and Me. When day breaks forth on the dewy lawn, And all seems mirth and glee, When birds their sweetest songs awake Is the hour for thee and me The hour for thee and me, The hour for thee and me When birds their sweetest songs awake Is the hour for thee and me.

When perfumes from the closing flowers Are wafter o'er the lea, And vesper float upon the gale, Is the hour for thee and me, The hour for thee and me, The hour for thee and me When the vespers float upon the gale Is the hour for thee and me. When night be holds her starry realm Reflected on the sea, When moon beams dance upon the rille, Is the hour for thee and me, The hour for thee and me, The hour for thee and me When moonbeams dance upon the rill Is the hour for thee and me. I Cannot Sing To Night.

Kind lady, ask me not to sing The joys of other days; Chide not my muse, though she refuse To bask in Memory's rays. I would that all my youthful joys Could vanish from my sight; For ah! I cannot sing tonight. I cannot, I cannot, cannot sing tonight; For ah! Sing last we met, ten thousand joys Have faded from our view; The magic of our youth has fled, Our eyes have shed their dew Since last we met, ten thousand griefs On me have spent their might; But ah! The land of my home is flitting, Flitting from my view; A gale in the sails is sitting, Toils the merry crew.

Here let my home be, On the waters wide: I roam with a proud heart; Maggie's by my side; My own love, Maggie dear, Sitting by my side Maggie dear, my own love, Sitting by my side. The wind howling o'er the billow From the distant lea, The storm raging 'round my pillow Brings no care to me. Roll on ye dark waves, O'er the troubled tide: I heed not your anger, Maggie's by my side; My own love, Maggie dear.

Sitting by my side; Maggie dear, my own love, Sitting by my side. Storms can appal me never While her brow is clear: Fair weather lingers ever Where her smiles appear When sorrow's breakers 'Round my heart shall hide, Still may I find her Sitting by my side. The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home, 'Tis summer, the darkies are gay, The corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom While the birds make music all the day.

The young folks roll on the little cabin floor, All merry, all happy and bright: Weep no more, my lady, Oh! They hunt no more for the possum and the coon On the meadow, the hill and the shore, They sing no more by the glimmer of the moon, On the bench by the old cabin door. The day goes by like a shadow o'er the heart, With sorrow where all was delight: The time has come when the darkies have to part, Then my old Kentucky Home, good night!

The head must bow and the back will have to bend, Wherever the darkey may go: A few more days, and the trouble all will end In the field where the sugar canes grow. A few more days for to tote the weary load, No matter 'twill never be light, A few more days till we totter on the road, Then my old Kentucky Home, good night! Old Folks Quadrilles [instrumental]. There's a wound in my spirit, No balm can e'er heal; In my soul is a sorrow, No voice can reveal.

And deeper the furrows Will sink on my brow, For Annie, my own love, Is gone from me now, For Annie, my own love, Is gone from me now,. Like the moon to the twilight She came to my heart, And fondly she told me We never should part; By Death, unrelenting, She's freed from her vow, And Annie, my own love, Is gone from me now, For Annie, my own love, Is gone from me now,. Like the night when the moonbeam Is gone from the sky, In the gloom of my sorrow Heart-broken I lie: The Holiday Schottisch [instrumental].

The morn of life is past, And evening comes at last; It brings me a dream of a once happy day, Of merry forms I've seen Upon the village green, Sporting with my old dog Tray. Old dog Tray's ever faithful, Grief cannot drive him away, He's gentle, he is kind; I'll never, never find A better friend than old dog Tray. The forms I call'd my own Have vanished one by one, The lov'd ones, the dear ones have all passed away, Their happy smiles have flown, Their gentle voices gone; I've nothing left but old dog Tray. When thoughts recall the past His eyes are on me cast; I know that the feels what my breaking heart would say: Although he cannot speak I'll vainly, vainly seek A better friend than old dog Tray.

Fondly old memories Recall round my heart Scenes of my early joys That never depart. Warmed in their sunny rays, Hopes brightly burn: Say not those happy days Can never return! Voices of tenderness And eyes ever bright, Warm and true hearted friends May lend their delight; But still for departed smiles The sad heart will year: Little Ella, fairest, dearest Unto me and unto mine, Earthly cherub coming nearest To my dreams of forms divine: Her brief absence frets and pains me, Her bright presence solace brings, Her spontaneous love restrains me From a thousand selfish things.

Little Ella moveth lightly Like a graceful fawn at play, Like a brooklet running brightly In the genial smile of May, Like a breeze upon the meadows All besprent with early flowers. Like a bird mid sylvan shadows In the golden summer hours. Little Ella brings a blessing With her bright and winning smile, With her frank and fond caressing And her prattle free from guile. When I hear her footsteps bounding, In the hall or through the grove, And her voice with joy resounding, Tis the music that I love.

The Social Orchestra [Instrumental]. Soft be thy slumbers, Rude cares depart, Visions in numbers Cheer thy young heart. Dream on while bright hours And fond hopes remain, Blooming like smiling blowers For thee, Ellen Bayne. Dream not in anguish, Dream not in far; Love shall not languish; Fond ones are near. Scenes that have vanished Smile on thee now, Pleasures once banished Play round thy brow, Forms long departed Greet thee again Soothing they dreaming heart, Sweet Ellen Bayne.

Willie We Have Missed You. Willie is it you, dear, Safe, safe at home? They did not tell me true, dear; They said you would not come. I heard you at the gate, And it made my heart rejoice; For I knew that welcome footstep And that dear, familiar voice, Making music on my ear In the lonely midnight gloom: Willie, we have missed you; Welcome, welcome home! We've longed to see you nightly, But this night of all; The fire was blazing brightly And lights were in the hall. The little ones were up Till 'twas ten o'clock and past, Then their eyes began to twinkle, And they've gone to sleep at last; But they listened for your voice Till they thought you'd never come; Oh!

The days were sad without you, The nights long and drear; My dreams have been about you; Oh! Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair. I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair, Borne, like a vapor, on the summer air; I see her tripping where the bright streams play, Happy as the daisies that dance on her way. Many were the wild notes her merry voice would pour. Many were the blithe birds that warbled them o'er: I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair, Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air. I long for Jeanie with the day dawn smile, Radiant in gladness, warm with winning guile; I hear her melodies, like joys gone by, Sighing round my heart o'er the fond hopes that die: Sighing like the night wind and sobbing like the rain, Wailing for the lost one that comes not again: I long for Jeanie, and my heart bows low, Never more to find her where the bright waters flow.

I sigh for Jeanie, but her light form strayed Far from the fond hearts round her native glad; Her smiles have vanished and her sweet songs flown, Flitting like the dreams that have cheered us and gone. Now the nodding wild flowers may wither on the shore While her gentle fingers will cull them not more: I sigh for Jeanie with the light brown hair, Floating like a vapor, on the soft summer air. Come with thy sweet voice again, To my heart still dear, Laden with soft, soothing pain, Like a tear, like a tear.

Bright visions, long vanished, Round they melodies beam: Lulled in the lap of thy sighs, Let me dream, let me dream. Come with thy sweet voice again! Bring not a language that tells How the light hours roll: Come with the music that wells From they soul, from thy soul, Come not with bright off'rings, Cold, unhallowed and new: Bring but thine own gentle heart, Ever true, ever true. Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears While we all sup sorrow with the poor: There's a song that will linger forever in our ears; Oh!

Hard Times, come again no more.

Many days you have lingered around my cabin door; Oh! While we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay There are frail forms fainting at the door: Though their voices are silent, their pleading looking will say Oh! Hard Times come again no more. There's a pale drooping maiden who toils her life away With a worn heart whose better days are o'er: Though her voice would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day Oh!

Come where my love lies dreaming, Dreaming the happy hours away, In visions bright redeeming The fleeting joys of day; Dreaming the happy hours, Dreaming the happy hours away;. Some folks like to sigh, Some folks do, some folks do; Some folks long to die, But that's not me nor you. Long live the merry merry heart That laughs by night and day, Like the Queen of Mirth, No matter what some folks say. Some folks fear to smile, Some folks do, some folks do; Others laugh through guile, But that's not me nor you. Some folks fret and scold, Some folks do, some folks do; They'll soon be dead and cold, But that's not me nor you.

Some folks get gray hairs, Some folks do, some folks do; Brooding o'er their cares, But that's not me nor you. Some folks toil and save, Some folks do, some folks do; To buy themselves a grave, But that's not me nor you.

Stephen Foster Songbook

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 and gay, 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!

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. Comrades fill no Glass for me. Yet, though I long to quell the strife, That passion holds against my life, Still, boon companions may ye be, But comrades, fill no glass for me.

Still, boon companions may ye be, But comrades, fill no glass for me. I know a breast that once was light Whose patient sufferings need my care, I know a hearth that once was bright, But drooping hopes have nestled there. Then while the tears drops nightly steal From wounded hearts that I should heal, Though boon companions ye may be Oh! When I was young I felt the tide Of aspiration undefiled. But manhood's years have wronged the pride My parents centered in their child.

Then, by a mother's sacred tear, By all that memory should revere, Though boon companions ye may be Oh! Thou wilt come no more, gentle Annie, Like a flower thy spirit did depart; Thou are gone, alas! Shall we never more behold thee; Never hear thy winning voice again When the Spring time comes, gentle Annie, When the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plain? We have roamed and loved mid the bowers When thy downy cheeks were in their bloom; Now I stand alone mid the flowers While they mingle their perfumes o'er thy tomb.

The White House Chair. Come all ye men of every state, Our creed is broad and fair; Buchanan is our candidate, And we'll put him in the White House Chair. Then come ye men from ev'ry state, Our creed is broad and fair; Buchanan is our candidate, And we'll put him in the White House Chair.


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Let all our hearts for union be, For the North and south are one; They've worked together manfully, And together they will still work on. We'll have no dark designing band To rule with secret sway; We'll give to all a helping hand, And be open as the light of day. We'll not outlaw the land that holds The bones of Washington; Where Jackson fought and Marion bled, And the battles of the brave were won.

On the seventeenth day of September you know, Took place in our city the great baby show; They shut up the factories and let out the schools, For the Seventeenth day was the day of all fools. Sing tu ral lala lu ral lal lu rall lal lay, Sing tu ral lala lu ral lal lu rall lal lay, Sing tu ral lala lu ral lal lu rall lal lay, Sing tu ral lala lu ral lal lu rall lal lay,. They made a procession of wagons and boats, Of raccoons and oxen they all have their votes Sledge hammers, triangles and carpenter's tools, One thousand and eight hundred horses and mules.

They had gemmen ob color join in their games And jokers and clowns of all ages and names They had pop guns and tin pans and all kinds of toys And a very fine party of women and boys. They had young men on horse back, so nice and so gay Aged Seventeen years on this Seventeenth day, And the ladies all thought they were bold cavaliers These bright looking lads aged seventeen years.

They had grim border-ruffians, I'll bring to your mind, And they've plenty more left of the very same kind, They drank from a flask and played cards on the way, And the children looked on, on this Seventeenth day. They had Ohio Yankees of Western Reserve Who live upon cheese, ginger cakes and preserve, Abolition's their doctrine their rod and their staff, And they'll fight for a sixpence an hour and a half.

Now was it not kind in these good simple clowns To amuse all the children in both of our towns To shut up their work shops and spend so much money To black up their faces, get tight and be funny. Then their ship Constitution was hauled through the street With sixteen small guns she was armed compleat But the brave ship of State by which Democrats stand Carries thirty-one guns with old Buck in command.

In the year '45 when the fire laid us waste Old Buck gave us five hundred dollars in haste They then took his money and lauded his name But he's now "Ten cent Jimmy", their banners proclaim.

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While the flow'rs bloom in gladness and spring bird rejoice There's void in our household of one gentle voice. I see her still in my dreams, I see her still in my dreams, Though her smiles have departed form the meadows and the streams. Though her voice once familiar hath gone from the day And her smiles from the sunlight have faded away, Though I wake to a scene now deserted and bleak, In my visions I find the lost form that I seek; For I see her still in my dreams, I see her still in my dreams, Though her smiles have departed from the meadows and streams.

Gone when the roses have faded, Gone when the meadows are bare To a land by orange blossoms shaded Where summer ever lingers on the air. Lula, Lula, Lula is gone; With summer birds her bright smiles To sunny lands have flown. When day breaketh gladly My heart waketh sadly, For Lula, Lula is gone.

Not a voice awakens the mountains, No gladness returns with the dawn, Not a smile is mirrored in the fountains, For Lula, sweet Lula is gone. Day is bereft of its pleasures, Night of its beautiful dreams, While the dirge of well remembered measure Is murmured by the ripple on the streams. When I view the chill blighted bowers And roam o'er the snow covered plain How I long for spring's budding flowers To welcome her sweet smiles again. Why does the earth seem forsaken? Time will this sadness remove; At her voice the meadows will awaken To verdure, sweet melody and love.

Linger in Blissful Repose. Linger in blissful repose, Free from all sorrowing care love, White round thee melody flows, Wafted opinions of air love. Let not thy visions depart, Lured by the stars that are beaming, Music will flow from my heart While thy sweet spirit is dreaming. Dreaming, dreaming, unfettered by the day, In melody, in melody I'll breathe my soul away. Softly the night winds are heard, Sighing o'er mountain and dale, love, Gently the vapors are stirred Down in the shadowy vale love.

While o'er the dew covered plain, Starlight in silence is gleaming, Lightly I'll breathe a refrain Round the young heart is dreaming. Dreaming, dreaming, unfettered by the day, In melody, in melody I'll breathe I'll breathe my soul away. Little voices laughing free, Laughing on the lawn, Tell me can you answer me, Where has Lula gone? Where is that merry form Ever on the move, Glancing through calm and storm Living beams of love? Soft rays of mellow light From her eyes were thrown, And her smiles were summer bright, Where has Lula gone? She has left the sunny hills In their blushing bloom She has left the running rills Blushing round her home, Far in some distant land She may yet be seen Leading a fairy band Like a fairy queen.

Far, far my longing heart On her path has flown, Yet no answer can impart; Where has Lula gone? Summer days have come and gone, Starry nights have passed, Many dreams of hope have flown Since I saw her last Roaming in rapture wild On the mountain side, Smiling when roses smile, Sighing when they died. Wild as the honey bee, Gentle as the fawn, Fairer than the dawn was she; Where has Lula gone?

Bloom bright fair flowers around the white stone Where sleepeth my Eva, my loved one and my own, Who departed in sadness and left me alone, Sweet Eva, my loved one my own. She was the idol of life's early day, But, fearing the censure that worldling's might say, Pride tore my weak heart from Eva away, From Eva, sweet Eva away.

She died, it was better than living apart, She died, and the sunlight went out from my heart She died, and this cold world no you can impart, From Eva, no joy can impart. Sadly to Mine Heart Appealing. Sadly to mine heart appealing, Sadly, sadly well a day Requiem like in murmurs stealing Comes that old familiar lay Wherefore not the wonted pleasure From the antique music spring? Why that well remembered measure Grieving thoughts and anguish bring? Sadly, sadly well a day, Sadly sadly well a day, Requiem like in murmurs stealing Comes that old familiar lay.

Forms departed rise before me, Smiles long vanish'd greet again, Eyes forever seal'd beam o'er me, Soothing once the sense of pain. And with ev'ry thrilling number Words of love gush on mine ear, Voices sweet, that bound in slumber, Hush'd have been for many a year. Sadly, sadly well a day Sadly, sadly well a day Requiem like in murmurs stealing Comes that old familiar lay. Like the winds in autumn sighing Through the trembling alder tree Or far surges' echo dying Soft and low those voices flee; And as hues in twilight fading, Swift those gentle forms decay; Vainly, vainly, Hope upbraiding, Bids them pass not all away.

Ghost like thus they wane before me, Quench'd their luster fled their bloom, While pale mem'ry, tearful, o'er me Flings the shadow of the tomb. Sadly to mine heart appealing, Sadly, sadly well a day, Requiem like, in murmurs stealing, Comes that old familiar lay. My Angel boy, thou'rt nearing fast The end of thy brief race; Already death's dark wing hath cast Its shadow o'er thy face. Must thy ethereal spirit seek So soon its native sky? Still paler grows thy beauteous cheek I cannot see thee die, My angel boy, my angel boy, I cannot see thee die. Thou, only tie that binds my soul To earth and bids me live, Thou, only thought that comfort now, Or future hope can give, Thou, sole pride of my widowed heart, Thou joyous beam to mine eye, Ah!

I cannot see thee die, My angel boy, my angel boy, I cannot see they die. I meekly bow before thy throne, Oh! God, nor dare repine; For thou hast but recalled thine own, H is no longer mine. If it be thy gracious will, We soon shall meet on high, For me there's hope, there's comfort still: The spirit cannot die, My angel boy, my angel boy, Thy spirit cannot die. Death with his cold hand, Hath robbed me of ev'ry hope, Hath robbed me of ev'ry hope My loved one is gone, Bleak was the moment, That parted our beating hearts, That parted our beating hearts, And left me alone.

Sweet was the low voice, That wrapt me in fond delight, That wrapt me in fond delight As fair visions do, Soft were the dark eyes, That languished in beauty bright, That languished in beauty bright How fondly and true! Linda has departed, The warm and tender hearted, Linda has departed And left me here to mourn. Blest were the hours passed, With her whom my soul adored, With her whom my soul adored Whose heart was so light; Sad is the lone hour, Bereft of my darling one, Bereft of my darling one, In darkness and night All now is cheerless, My joys long have passed away, My joys long have passed away With loves fleeting years; Hope has no comfort, For sadness now holdeth sway, For sadness now holdeth sway.

And leaves me in tears. Deal with me kindly, Cheer my young heart, I'll follow the blindly wherever thou art, Deep in the mountain Far from my home I'll follow thy path wherever thou'lt roam. Thy way shall still be mine My heart shall still be thine Deal with me kindly, Cheer my young heart, I'll follow thee blindly And never depart. Break not my spirit, Think of my youth, Cherish my tender heart, Doubt not my truth; Friends may desert thee, Sorrows may come, But still in this soul Thine image will bloom. Thy hopes with thee I'll share, Thy wants shall be my care; Deal with me kindly Cheer my young heart, I'll follow thee blindly, And never depart.

Though through the desert wand'ring afar, Still to me dearest one, Thou'lt be my star; Sunlight or moonlight O'er us may shine, Yet living on love, I'll ever be thine. Thy hand shall be my guard, Thy voice shall be my word; Deal with me kindly Cheer my young heart, I'll follow thee blindly, And never depart. For Thee Love For Thee. I'll watch o'er thy dreams when thou'rt sleeping, For thee, love for thee, love, I'll weep o'er thy cares when thou'rt weeping, For thee, only thee. The wild lands of India, The prairies, the sea May lure me, but fondly, I'll still turn to thee. For thee, dearest thee I would roam night and day, And thy love, and thy love Would cheer my lone way; And they love, and thy love Would cheer my lonely way.

I'll dwell on thy smiles when thou'rt waking, For thee love, for thee love, My heart would be faithful though breaking For thee only thee. In bowers where we've lingered Each flowret and tree Remains in my mem'ry An emblem of thee For thee, dearest thee I would roam night and day And thy love and thy love Would cheer my lone way And thy love and they love Would cheer my lonely way. The lark and the linnet seems singing, For thee love, for thee love, The bud into blossom seems springing For thee only thee.

The bloom on the meadows The rippling of streams Recall but thy fair form The queen of my dreams. For thee, dearest thee I would roam night and day And thy love and thy love Would cheer my lone way And thy love and they love Would cheer my lonely way. The pride of the village and the fairest in the dell Is the queen of my song and her name is Fairy-Belle; The sound of her light step may be head upon the hill Like the fall of the snow-drop or the dripping of the rill,. Fairy-Belle, gentle Fairy Belle, The star of the night and the lily of the day, Fairy Belle, The queen of the dell, Long may she revel on her bright sunny way.

She sings to the meadows and she carrols to the streams, She laughs in the sunlight and smiles while in her dreams, Her hair like the thistle-down is bourn upon the air, And her heart like the humming-birds is free from ev'ry care. Her soft notes of melody around me sweetly fall, Her eye full of love is now beaming on my soul.


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    8. The sound of that gentle voice, the glance of that eye, Surround me with rapture that no other heart could sigh. Thou Art the Queen of My Song. I long for thee; must I long and long in vain? I sigh for thee; will thou come not back again? Though cold forms surround us To sever all that bound us, Gentle queen of my song. The fields and the fair flowers shall welcome thee, And all to thy pleasures shall belong; Pride of my early years, Thou art the queen of my song.

    The days are gone, days of summer bright and gay, The days of love we so fondly whiled away; But still while I'm dreaming Thy smiles are o'er me beaming, Gentle queen of my song The wind o'er the lone meadow wails for thee, The birds sing thy beauties all day long; Prides of my early years, Thou are the queen of my song. I turn to thee; though our happy hours have flown? I turn to thee; and my saddest thoughts are gone, For love will be burning And memory still returning, Gentle queen of my song.

    Come let thy warn heart rejoice with me, Come from the bright and luring throng; Pride of my early years, Thou art the queen of my song. My Life is like the summer rose That opens to the morning sky, But, e'er the shades of evening close, Is scattered on the ground to die; Yet on the rose's humble head The sweetest dews of night are shed, As if they wept the waste to see, But none shall weep a tear for me, But none shall weep a tear for me, But none shall weep a tear for me. My life is like the autumn leaf That trembles in the moons pale ray; Its hold is frail, its date is brief, Tis restless soon to pass away; Yet when that leaf shall fall and fade The parent tree will mourn its shade The winds bewail the leafless tree, But none shall weep a tear for me, But none shall weep a tear for me, But none shall weep a tear for me.

    The Wife or He'll Come Home. He'll come home, he'll not forget me, for his word is always true. He's gone to sup The deadly cup, And while the long night through, He's gone to quaff, And talk and laugh To while the drear night through; He'll come home, he'll not forget me, for his word is always true. He'll come home with tears and pleading words and ask me to forget. Can I be his While he is mine And cause him one regret? My heart may break, But for his sake I'll do all I can do.

    He'll come home with sorrow on his heart That none but he can know With pangs of thought, How dearly bought! And fears of coming woe; He'll feel the cost of days now lost That time can ne'er renew He'll come home, he'll not forget me, for his word is always true. Poor drooping maiden sighing on a bright summer's day Alone in sorrow all day long, Thine eyes from light, thine ears from song; Why are thy frail hands toiling the hours away?

    Found in a dreary home, Bound to a weary doom Why are thy frail hands toiling the hours away! Poor drooping maiden sighing on a bright summer's day, Poor drooping maiden sighing on a bright summer's day. Poor drooping maiden sighing on a bright summer's day The birds are out with songs and glee And gladness lurks in bush and tree Where is thy pure voice that once was so light and gay? Come roam the laughing hills! Come see the dancing rills! Where is thy pure voice that once was so light and gay? Poor drooping maiden sighing on a bright summer's day The flowers are out upon the lea And balmy winds are on the sea Come let thy sad heart warm in the sun's king ray!

    See how the reapers toil, Gaily they've tilled the soil, Come let thy sad heart warm in the suns kind ray!

    Near the broad Atlantic waters Roaming the woodlands green 'Mid Long Island's lovely daughters Fairest of all was Cora Dean Soft her voice as liquid measure Heard when the streamlets move While her eyes of tender azure Glowed with the winning beams of love.

    Cora Dean has left the summer roses Blooming o'er the lea Cora Dean has left the summer roses Blooming o'er the lea While her fair and gentle form reposes Down by the calm blue sea. While her fair and gentle form reposes Down by the calm blue sea. Cora Dean was form for loving Cheering the hearts of all None could sigh where she was moving Birds tuned their carols to her call Fields grew fairer at her coming Flowers a more joyful throng Skies were bright where she was roaming Streams danced the lighter to her song.

    Eyes bedimmed with tears are streaming Round her deserted home Silent stars are nightly beaming Lending a sadness to the gloom While the winds of summer dying Borne from the deep dark wave O'er the land in dirges sighing Murmur with sorrow round her grave. Under the Willow She's Sleeping. Under the willow she's laid with care Sang a lone mother while weeping, Under the willow, with golden hair, My little one's quietly sleeping.

    Fair, fair, and golden hair, Sang a long mother while weeping, Fair, fair, and golden hair, Under the willow she's sleeping. Under the willow no songs are heard, Near where my darling lies dreaming; Nought but the voice of some far off bird Where life and its pleasures are beaming. Under the willow by night and day Sorrowing ever I ponder; Free from its shadowy, gloomy ray Ah!

    Under the willow I breathe a prayer Longing to linger forever Near to my angel with golden hair In lands where there's sorrowing never. De Glendy Burk is a mighty fast boat, Wid a mighty fast captain too; He sits up dah on de hurricane roof And he keeps his eye on de crew. I cant stay here, for dey work too hard; I'm bound to leave dis town; I'll take my duds and tote 'em on my back When de Glendy Burk comes down.

    Stephen Foster Lyrics - by Popularity

    I'm bound to leave dis town; I'll take my duds and tote 'em on my back When de Glendy Burk comes down. De Glendy Burk has a funny old crew And dey sing de boatman's song, Dey burn de pitch and de pine knot too, For to shove de boat along. De smoke goes up and de ingine roars And de wheel goes round and round, So fair you well! I'll work all night in de wind and storm, I'll work all day in de rain, Till I find myself on de levy dock In New Orleans again. Dey make me mow in de hay field here And knock my head wid de flail, I'll go wha dey work wid de sugar and de cane And roll on de cotton bale.

    My lady love is as pretty as a pink, I'll meet her on de way I'll take her back to de sunny old south And dah I'll make her stay. So dont you fret my honey dear, Oh! Jenny's Coming O'er the Green. Jenny's coming o'er the green, Fairer form was never seen, Winning is her gentle mien; Why do I love her so? We have wandered side by side O'er the meadows far and wide; Little Jenny's full of pride, Why do I love her so?

    Jenny's calm and liquid eyes Sometimes bring a sweet surprise, Like a change in summer skies; Why do I love her so? Oft her voice, so full of glee, Wakes the saddest memory; She is younger far than me, Why do I love her so? Little Jenny never fears, Hoping all from coming years, Dashing off the passing tears; Why do I love her so? Can I not another find With her sweet endearing mind, None with Jenny's charms combined?

    Why do I love her so? Beautiful Child of Song. Come, I came longing to hear thee, Beautiful child of song, Come though the heart that are near thee, Around thee devotedly throng, Come, I am longing to hear thee, Beautiful child of song, Beautiful child of song, I'm longing to hear thee carol they lay, sweet child of song. Come, for the spell of a fairy Dwells in thy magical voice, And at they step light and airy, E'en cold hearts enraptured rejoice.


    1. A Cappella;
    2. Seals the Warrior Breed: Casualties of War!
    3. The End of Dreams (In Serein Book 3).
    4. Midnight Angel (Vampire Romance) (Monsters& Mortals Book 1).

      5. Come, I am longing to hear thee, Beautiful child of song, Beautiful child of song, I'm longing to hear thee carol they lay, sweet child of song. Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay, Gone are my friends from the cotton fields away, Gone from the earth to a better land I know, I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe. I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low: I hear those gentle voices calling, "Old Black Joe. Why do I weep when my heart should feel no pain Why do I sigh that my friends come not again, Grieving for forms Now departed long a go?

      I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe. Where are the hearts once so happy and so free? The children so dear that I held upon my knee, Gone to the shore where my soul has longed to go. I hear the gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe. Down Among the Cane-brakes. Once I could laugh and play, When in life's early day, Then I was far away Down among the cane-brakes. Down among the cane-brakes on the Mississippi shore Oh! Yes I was free from car; All was bright summer there; Dark days to me were fair Down among the cane-brakes.

      There lived my mother dear Gone from this world I fear There rang our voices clear Down among the cane-brakes. There lived a lonely one, Who like the rest has gone, She might have been my own Down among the cane brakes. Long years have glided by Since then I breathed each sigh, May I return to die Down among the cane brakes.

      Fairer than the golden morning, Gentle as the tongue can tell, Was our little laughing darling, Sweet Virginia Belle. Our dear Virginia Belle! She bereft us When she left us, Sweet Virginia Belle! How we used to roam together O'er the mountain, through the dell, In the smiles of springtime weather, Sweet Virginia Belle! She was lithe as any fairy, Winning hearts with fairy spell, Tripping with a footstep airy, Sweet Virginia Belle! While her life was in its morning Came a sad and solemn knell, She was taken without warning, Sweet Virginia Belle!

      Stephen Foster

      The Little Ballad Girl. With fairy slippers and golden hair! What did I hear you calling so loud, Down in that heartless, motley crowd? Tis my father's song, And he can't live long; Every one knows that he wrote it; For I've been down at the hotel door, And all the gentlemen bought it. Little girl, let me light my cigar! Where are you going tonight so far?

      What are you hiding under your arm? If I burn a sheet, will it do any harm? Come, dry up the tears in that bright blue eye! What's all this that is blowing around, All cold and scattered strewn on the ground. Mine is the Mourning Heart. Thou hast roam'd under summer skies whilst I have weathered the storm, I have pray'd that the angels fair would shield thy pillow from harm. But thou wert gone and none this soul from sadness could awaken. Mine is the mourning heart! By thee, by thee forsaken. Thou hast whisper'd in words of love to other ears than mine, I have yielded to others charms but worship'd only thine.

      De Shanghai chicken, when you put him in de pit, He'll eat a loaf of bread up, but he can't fight a bit De Shanghai fiddle is a funny little thing And ebry time you tune him up he goes ching ching. Don't bet your money on de Shanghai, Take de little chicken in de middle ob de ring But don't bet your money on de Shanghai. I go to de fair for to see de funny fowls De double headed pigion and de one eyed owls De old lame goose wid no web between his toes He kills himself a laughing when de Shanghai crows.

      De Shanghai's tall but his appetite is small He'll only swallow ebry thing that he can overhaul Four bags of wheat just as certain as your born A bushel of potatoes and a tub full of corn. Molly Dear Good Night.