EYES

The roses you holdThough they are withering away,In their heart is my loveAnd a brighter day.Their petals now droopedBut fragrance still sweet,My heart with truenessFor you ever beats.All the whole worldAnd its treasures of goldCould tell no sweeter storyThan these roses have told.So fate could ne’er sendNo sweeter one, dear,Than you with your loveAnd tender care.

The roses you holdThough they are withering away,In their heart is my loveAnd a brighter day.

Their petals now droopedBut fragrance still sweet,My heart with truenessFor you ever beats.

All the whole worldAnd its treasures of goldCould tell no sweeter storyThan these roses have told.

So fate could ne’er sendNo sweeter one, dear,Than you with your loveAnd tender care.

Eyes that speakAre worth their weight in gold.For many a aching heartWith love they console.They have no wordsLike the trembling lips,Though glance by glanceYou can read their manuscript.

Eyes that speakAre worth their weight in gold.For many a aching heartWith love they console.

They have no wordsLike the trembling lips,Though glance by glanceYou can read their manuscript.

Gee, Gee,Yo better quit dat pestern me.Woe, tell I unkiber dis corn,A raskul like yo shud nebber ben bon,When de sun comes out yo am looken fo de coolAn’ dat’s de powful acten uv a lazy mule.Den dah’s de minet I gits de bridleYo eyes am shut yo mine goes idle.Did yo had no risens or go to school—no.Ah, dat’s de rezen yo’s a lazy mule.Now maybe tumorh I’ll drove yo tu town,And what I means yo gwine tu sweep de groun,Yo won’t drug along acten a fool,Yo’ll git up an muv, lazy mule.Yo ets a wagon loder con an’ a bale o hay,Den yo leans er ginst de fence when yo goes tu bray,I recken som time you’ll ax fo a stoolSo you kin set doun yo lazy mule.Den tu I recken I’ll trade yo off,Yo lon nekhog, yo ets de hay out de loft,Now yo kin git mad but I got er nu rule,Yo good for nothen lazy mule.And when I goes tu mak dis deal,Yo run around de barn an’ kick up yo heal,Stah rit sid dat ole marh BruleDen de man won’t no he’s giten sich a lazy mule.Ah, an when he gits yo you’ll cease tu balk,Fo he am goter a chalklin yo has tu walk,From dat dah on yo’ll be a liven toolDat I’ll en yo actens uv er lazy mule.An mah de dah come when yo cease tu breveDen yo’ll flot wid de angles fru de trees,An de buzzards will fite one mo duelAn I’ll sah dah gones de essene uv dat lazy mule.

Gee, Gee,Yo better quit dat pestern me.Woe, tell I unkiber dis corn,A raskul like yo shud nebber ben bon,When de sun comes out yo am looken fo de coolAn’ dat’s de powful acten uv a lazy mule.

Den dah’s de minet I gits de bridleYo eyes am shut yo mine goes idle.Did yo had no risens or go to school—no.Ah, dat’s de rezen yo’s a lazy mule.

Now maybe tumorh I’ll drove yo tu town,And what I means yo gwine tu sweep de groun,Yo won’t drug along acten a fool,Yo’ll git up an muv, lazy mule.

Yo ets a wagon loder con an’ a bale o hay,Den yo leans er ginst de fence when yo goes tu bray,I recken som time you’ll ax fo a stoolSo you kin set doun yo lazy mule.

Den tu I recken I’ll trade yo off,Yo lon nekhog, yo ets de hay out de loft,Now yo kin git mad but I got er nu rule,Yo good for nothen lazy mule.

And when I goes tu mak dis deal,Yo run around de barn an’ kick up yo heal,Stah rit sid dat ole marh BruleDen de man won’t no he’s giten sich a lazy mule.

Ah, an when he gits yo you’ll cease tu balk,Fo he am goter a chalklin yo has tu walk,From dat dah on yo’ll be a liven toolDat I’ll en yo actens uv er lazy mule.

An mah de dah come when yo cease tu breveDen yo’ll flot wid de angles fru de trees,An de buzzards will fite one mo duelAn I’ll sah dah gones de essene uv dat lazy mule.

If I can compose my way to successThen some time I’ll compose the rest,It will be of my childhood daysBuilding mud houses for different plays.Oh! I was bad and mischievous, too,And always looking for something to do,And when I found nothing I surely was sad,To be good very long would make me mad.Though I longed to go to school,But I was poor and fate overruled,Then my mother, whom I love so dear,Passed away at the end of the year.Then I fought this old, rough world,For I had lost my valued pearl.And now she sleeps beneath the sod;It brought me deep sorrow though it’s the will of God.Just think of my mother, she guides me yet,And keeps me away from those sinful nets.All through life, from place to place,She ne’er let alcohol enter my taste.And I’ve ne’er lived a day I want to live o’er,Unless it was school days which I could love more,Now I’ll thank God and that sweet little her,My life’s been rough, but never a blur.

If I can compose my way to successThen some time I’ll compose the rest,It will be of my childhood daysBuilding mud houses for different plays.

Oh! I was bad and mischievous, too,And always looking for something to do,And when I found nothing I surely was sad,To be good very long would make me mad.

Though I longed to go to school,But I was poor and fate overruled,Then my mother, whom I love so dear,Passed away at the end of the year.

Then I fought this old, rough world,For I had lost my valued pearl.And now she sleeps beneath the sod;It brought me deep sorrow though it’s the will of God.

Just think of my mother, she guides me yet,And keeps me away from those sinful nets.All through life, from place to place,She ne’er let alcohol enter my taste.

And I’ve ne’er lived a day I want to live o’er,Unless it was school days which I could love more,Now I’ll thank God and that sweet little her,My life’s been rough, but never a blur.

A heart without loveAnd nowhere to build,The mind wanders far,Leaving the soul to chill.

She’ll always beSweet like the breath you giveIn trying to console me.I hope you’re not leaving,’Twould break my heart to think,I love you better than all the rest,For your petals are all over pink.Cheer up! little rose,With your petals looking mad,My sweet heart is dying,That’s why I’m looking sad.Oh! there is your companionsAnd they are blooming all gay,But I wonder if you knowMy love is to pass away,But forever in my memory.

Lody, Lody, chile am yo heard de nues,Ole Ruby Gee go dem late stile shoes (no!)Yo noes dem kin wid de heel so high,An all de men’s jist looks when she goes by,Course she ain’t as swell as she thinks she am, ef all ports am true.She oder member, dat I noder, when she worned a boot an a shoe.Mursey me, I kin seed her now in church a gazen arounTryen to make eber body seer, so de nues, kin spread de town.But um goner taut alls in de quar jist how to act renounAn when Ole Ruby Gee comes in church we kin gider one pison frown.Oh! but I loves dat uman jist like I loves a snake,An I ain’t fogot how tonny she acted don at Ras Johnson’s wake.Eber time dey passed de coffee she’d tuck it an kinder linger,An put on de mostest airs, posen her little finger.Dar she sit an sip, an saped,An droped de hol cup in her lap.Mursey me, I laughed, tell my sides almos buss,Den we had one awful fuss,But bleave me, chile, I helt my groun,Ef things did look powful dark aroun.An ef it hadn’t ben fo waken uv de deadDah ben one awful pullen uv de heads.Yo nows fo a minit I acted refine,But after dat she got a piece uv my mine.Den eber body look all eck mased,Sam Thomptson whispered to drunken Hays,What yo spose dey am fusen about.Well sur we broke up dat wake, widout a dout,Den all along de streets on our wah home ’twas a site befo de king,We was a gibberen an a gabberen, an bof un us sushedWhen dat troll-bell ring.Den we was quiet where de siety folks livedAn we hardly drewed our breff,But when we’s out uv dat part uv toun I nocked her rite an lef.

Each day there is sunshine,Each day there are showers,Means some day in May DayWe’ll be picking wild flowers.

I’m yet in the pathA jogging along,That’s leading to the righteousAway from the wrong.We have not timeTo talk evil of others,For losing enemiesTo gain heavenly brothers.Oh, Lord!May the day be longIn which you have powerTo sound the heavenly gong.We know this meansOur last day,Bless us and save usIn that land far away.

I’m yet in the pathA jogging along,That’s leading to the righteousAway from the wrong.

We have not timeTo talk evil of others,For losing enemiesTo gain heavenly brothers.

Oh, Lord!May the day be longIn which you have powerTo sound the heavenly gong.

We know this meansOur last day,Bless us and save usIn that land far away.

Down a beautiful country roadThe roses in bloom and their perfume strewed,Oh! the joy it brought to my heart,’Twas so tender, so sweet, I couldn ne’er departFrom that place where little Mary lives.Oh! that spot beside the hillWhere nature and beauty can always build,Tells a story it really seemsAnd will always be life’s sweetest dreamOf that place where little Mary lives.When she plucked and gave to meA beautiful rose in a manner so free,The heavenly breezes begin to blowAnd the tenderness through my heart did flowFor that place where little Mary lives.That was a day of God’s decree,And oh! no scenes could sweeter be,They soothed my heart and eased my pain,May the bright sunshine ne’er turn to rain,Down where little Mary lives.But summer is soon to fade away,Followed by a cold winter day.The howling winds in the month of December,But that dear little rose I’ll always rememberThat come from the place where little Mary lives.Now I see the blustery snowAnd it’s changed the scenes where I used to go,It’s all over whiteThough the stars are shining bright,How sad be that place where little Mary lives.At times I think and really sighTo think of those roses that are sleeping nearby.But they will returnTo my heart that yearns,And for that place and its beautyWhere little Mary lives.

Oh! that spot beside the hillWhere nature and beauty can always build,Tells a story it really seemsAnd will always be life’s sweetest dreamOf that place where little Mary lives.

When she plucked and gave to meA beautiful rose in a manner so free,The heavenly breezes begin to blowAnd the tenderness through my heart did flowFor that place where little Mary lives.

That was a day of God’s decree,And oh! no scenes could sweeter be,They soothed my heart and eased my pain,May the bright sunshine ne’er turn to rain,Down where little Mary lives.

But summer is soon to fade away,Followed by a cold winter day.The howling winds in the month of December,But that dear little rose I’ll always rememberThat come from the place where little Mary lives.

Now I see the blustery snowAnd it’s changed the scenes where I used to go,It’s all over whiteThough the stars are shining bright,How sad be that place where little Mary lives.

At times I think and really sighTo think of those roses that are sleeping nearby.But they will returnTo my heart that yearns,And for that place and its beautyWhere little Mary lives.

Why are great men’s livesThrown into the mist?One’s who aim at the sky,Are found at the bottom of the list.

I met a manThe other dayOn a Chicago train.By the wayHis face was strangeAnd very old,And holds a sad storyYet to be told.He says, my boy,We’ll have a drink.I said, no I thank you,Mr. Fink.Then he gave a real deep sigh,Like a child about to cry.In a moment he raised and said,Then he stroked his old bald head,Patting me on my shoulder then.He faded his wrinkles into a grin,Now my lad, as I sit and think,May you never be likeMr. Fink.My younger days had I refused,Now I’d stand in different shoes;I could throw this blanket off of meAnd this deadly sorrow that you seeThen with a nod he solemnly winked,Try and remember Mr. Fink.With a trembling he then relatesOf his mighty love that’s turned to hate,He called a name that was once his wife.This was the pride that wrecked his life,Saying once I was rich, but now I beg.She’s the cause, a wretched old hag,Then there was love with a broken linkMournfully told by Mr. Fink.

I met a manThe other dayOn a Chicago train.By the wayHis face was strangeAnd very old,And holds a sad storyYet to be told.He says, my boy,We’ll have a drink.I said, no I thank you,Mr. Fink.

Then he gave a real deep sigh,Like a child about to cry.In a moment he raised and said,Then he stroked his old bald head,Patting me on my shoulder then.He faded his wrinkles into a grin,Now my lad, as I sit and think,May you never be likeMr. Fink.

My younger days had I refused,Now I’d stand in different shoes;I could throw this blanket off of meAnd this deadly sorrow that you seeThen with a nod he solemnly winked,Try and remember Mr. Fink.

With a trembling he then relatesOf his mighty love that’s turned to hate,He called a name that was once his wife.This was the pride that wrecked his life,Saying once I was rich, but now I beg.She’s the cause, a wretched old hag,Then there was love with a broken linkMournfully told by Mr. Fink.

Two gray heads bowed in tears,Above hung memories of wasted years,For once they were young with the blessings of health.They sought not happiness, righteousness nor wealth,But now they jog along to end of life’s rope,The end is not far, just o’er the slope.Their lives must be studiedWith their heads bloomed grayTo direct soulsAlong life’s sweeter way.’Twill teach you their sorrowEach day ’twill bringThe joy that’s in our lives’Twill loudly ring.But if heads are hardAnd holds withinThe things you craveBe worldly sinsWe’ll go down to a joyless end,Leaving sorrow to have its sway,We’ll be like those twoI saw the other day.

Oh! cruel, cruel fate is mine,Why am I tortured with life so unkind.Cruel as the grave, it means peace for me,For there only, my sorrow, will e’er let me be.Peace or happiness, I truly know not,And gone art the sunshine that lightened my darkened spotsThe little birds for me do not sing so sweetAnd the roses have withered from the warm summer’s heat.—Mrs. Perry H. McGee

Your eyes so beautiful tells a taleAnd o’er me holds the bill of sale.With each glance they tenderly bringA little love song for my heart to sing.They hold the warmth around my soulWith love, kind love, too sweet to be told.Were my eyes allowed to tellHow my poor heart beats by spells.For your love it really craves,Why send it down to its grave?Time take away my haunted yearsAnd your love, sweet love, that’s caused me tears.Let your eyes shine for me real true,Then I’ll explain more love for you.The world then would cease my sorrow.This brings a brighter day to-morrow,Then forever we’d live in sweet lovelandWith love, much love, I’d hold your hand.By your eyes I traced your love,Being guided by the Savior above;I saw a weakening along the wayThat I could strengthen would it pay,But those things are hard to mendWhen two has love that doesn’t blend.

Were my eyes allowed to tellHow my poor heart beats by spells.For your love it really craves,Why send it down to its grave?Time take away my haunted yearsAnd your love, sweet love, that’s caused me tears.

Let your eyes shine for me real true,Then I’ll explain more love for you.The world then would cease my sorrow.This brings a brighter day to-morrow,Then forever we’d live in sweet lovelandWith love, much love, I’d hold your hand.

By your eyes I traced your love,Being guided by the Savior above;I saw a weakening along the wayThat I could strengthen would it pay,But those things are hard to mendWhen two has love that doesn’t blend.

Be careful in your daily walks,Because from some source or other there’s always a watching eye.

Sam Jackson was goin’ with a real yallow gal, the one that he called his own-side pal,But he found she would deceive, she told a friend by the name of Stark.She could love Sam if he wasn’t so dark;This made a discord down town,Cause Sam was standing near, and seemed to overhear and just then he spoke right up and said:

Chorus

I’m a natural born gen-u-wine colored man, you don’t have to look twice to see who I am,You look at me once and your thoughts will end, cause I got that puro-de colored skin.It’s the kind of skin that the sun don’t tan, this makes me the king of the sunny land,So you go your way but bear in mind I’m what you call the puro-de gen-u-wine.Now all high yellows to Sam is in vain, he never lets them bother his brain,And all through his life he’ll letum alone, he knows that his skin’s a bit shady,So he will avoid every yellow lady, he’s got a club of his own.Where all brown skins can meet and have a musical treatFor every night Sam kindly sings.

Now all high yellows to Sam is in vain, he never lets them bother his brain,And all through his life he’ll letum alone, he knows that his skin’s a bit shady,So he will avoid every yellow lady, he’s got a club of his own.Where all brown skins can meet and have a musical treatFor every night Sam kindly sings.

On comes the futureAnd brighter day it brings,But prosperity should never botherLove in the heart that sings.

Life fo me am one sweet dreamSense I’s been drinken Jersey cream,Ebum, my wife, am changed her wahsShe worens a smile eber dah,When I miks dat golden cow.Yo no when I buyeder my wife jist frond,And to all de nabers she run me doun,I wished yo hear ’er now, she calls me honey,An’ tells me how well I spent my moneyWhen I buyed dat golden cow.All my chuluns jist seems to smileLiker a pasel uv crocker diles,One I’ll stan, an hunch de uder,Dey gits dat actens from dair muder,When I miks dat golden cow.All de foks dat libs next doohTry to be so soshul, any mo,But dey needn’t ack, all dat cin,I gits eber body off my mineWhen I miks dat golden cow.An dat Jersey neber offers to kick,I’d lose my mind ef she’d git sik,Jist think what it means to my poar heart,How sad ’twould be ef I had to partFrom miken dat golden cow.But ef she eber dies,In hebum I no she’ll rest on hi,Cous darh she stoods an hols wid in,An’ neber breeved a breffer sin,Hu dat cow amer golden cow.

Life fo me am one sweet dreamSense I’s been drinken Jersey cream,Ebum, my wife, am changed her wahsShe worens a smile eber dah,When I miks dat golden cow.

Yo no when I buyeder my wife jist frond,And to all de nabers she run me doun,I wished yo hear ’er now, she calls me honey,An’ tells me how well I spent my moneyWhen I buyed dat golden cow.

All my chuluns jist seems to smileLiker a pasel uv crocker diles,One I’ll stan, an hunch de uder,Dey gits dat actens from dair muder,When I miks dat golden cow.

All de foks dat libs next doohTry to be so soshul, any mo,But dey needn’t ack, all dat cin,I gits eber body off my mineWhen I miks dat golden cow.

An dat Jersey neber offers to kick,I’d lose my mind ef she’d git sik,Jist think what it means to my poar heart,How sad ’twould be ef I had to partFrom miken dat golden cow.

But ef she eber dies,In hebum I no she’ll rest on hi,Cous darh she stoods an hols wid in,An’ neber breeved a breffer sin,Hu dat cow amer golden cow.

Sweet, sweeter, sweetest memories,Of my great, greater, greatest days,Has come and gone but now returns.As I pass the little church doorMy poor heart yearns. It wants you and those golden hoursThat held my sweet, sweeter, sweetest memories.When I hearThe church organ play,My poor heartJust hums awayA million of your melodiesAnd my sweet, sweeter, sweetest memories.All the little birdsJust seem to knowOf my happy daysWhen you loved me so,For every morn they tenderly singMy sweet, sweeter, sweetest memories.

When I hearThe church organ play,My poor heartJust hums awayA million of your melodiesAnd my sweet, sweeter, sweetest memories.

All the little birdsJust seem to knowOf my happy daysWhen you loved me so,For every morn they tenderly singMy sweet, sweeter, sweetest memories.

You are my morning star,You are my evening’s pride,You are my all and all,You are my love besides.You are my brightest hopeYou are my world of gold,You are all of my happiness,You are ne’er to grow cold.

You are my morning star,You are my evening’s pride,You are my all and all,You are my love besides.

You are my brightest hopeYou are my world of gold,You are all of my happiness,You are ne’er to grow cold.

Gray eyes, with your haunting, piercing trait,And your infernal deadly bliss,Around my heart still entwins a kiss.Though shame am I to relate.Gray eyes, this game fate is ruling,Though many are the sad spiritsThat conscience has seen,From a lonely bench in the park amid the green,With an aching, burning heartNo thoughts of you were cooling.Gray eyes, answer me with your dreamy look,Ah! that loving, tender smile’s a traitor,Sad reflections we both see,The last spark in my heart its took,And I have learned to be your hater.

Gray eyes, with your haunting, piercing trait,And your infernal deadly bliss,Around my heart still entwins a kiss.Though shame am I to relate.

Gray eyes, this game fate is ruling,Though many are the sad spiritsThat conscience has seen,From a lonely bench in the park amid the green,With an aching, burning heartNo thoughts of you were cooling.

Gray eyes, answer me with your dreamy look,Ah! that loving, tender smile’s a traitor,Sad reflections we both see,The last spark in my heart its took,And I have learned to be your hater.

Driften don de Ohio,Oh, dat muddy ’bio,Hearh dat boat a pufflen,See dem darkies shufflenYe, dis am picnic day.When she goes aroun’ de benYo see dem darkies gin to grinIn dare hearts is powful joy,Yo hearh dat word O, my boy,Dis am picnic day.Den yo hearh dem banjoes ringOle time darkies ’gin to singAll dem southern melodiesDat makes yo dance wid so much easeOO, ah, ah, on picnic day.Soon darh was a razor duelTween Willie Jackson and Coston Souel,Den de gran master drew his swordAn’ boff dem rascals jumped overboadOn picnic day.Den Magie Jones let a screamLike de boat popen off steam,Den she spoke a piece her mine,Saen dis hapens eber timeOn picnic day.Den Parson Brown mader speechDat held de congregation liker leech,All yo folkes oder be a shameFo tryen to spile de church’s good nameI don’t carah ef it am picnic day.Parson wasn’t fread to sayHe made his speech jist dat wah,An’ when he’s thru, he wiped his brow,An’ the congergation moaned liker cowOn picnic day.Den de boat pulled into land,Parson madum understandAnybody not actin riteWill walk de water back home to-night,Dis am er church picnic day.

Driften don de Ohio,Oh, dat muddy ’bio,Hearh dat boat a pufflen,See dem darkies shufflenYe, dis am picnic day.

When she goes aroun’ de benYo see dem darkies gin to grinIn dare hearts is powful joy,Yo hearh dat word O, my boy,Dis am picnic day.

Den yo hearh dem banjoes ringOle time darkies ’gin to singAll dem southern melodiesDat makes yo dance wid so much easeOO, ah, ah, on picnic day.

Soon darh was a razor duelTween Willie Jackson and Coston Souel,Den de gran master drew his swordAn’ boff dem rascals jumped overboadOn picnic day.

Den Magie Jones let a screamLike de boat popen off steam,Den she spoke a piece her mine,Saen dis hapens eber timeOn picnic day.

Den Parson Brown mader speechDat held de congregation liker leech,All yo folkes oder be a shameFo tryen to spile de church’s good nameI don’t carah ef it am picnic day.

Parson wasn’t fread to sayHe made his speech jist dat wah,An’ when he’s thru, he wiped his brow,An’ the congergation moaned liker cowOn picnic day.

Den de boat pulled into land,Parson madum understandAnybody not actin riteWill walk de water back home to-night,Dis am er church picnic day.

If your name is Mc or O’MaleyCome and shake hands with me,That’s the brand killarney givesBefore sending us over the sea.No words I can speakTo hold more trueAnd to show I’m an Irishman thru and thru,Than those that are blendingTo the Irish mindsSure Mc or O’MaleyIs just the time.Sure this is an Irishman’s way,Though to you it may seem odd;But the land they are from is a paradiseBlessed by the greenest of sod.This makes me proudSure to be,And to meet an IrishmanJust like me.Then we can tell of the lakes and dellsAnd the beautiful shamrock bordered shores.

Sure this is an Irishman’s way,Though to you it may seem odd;But the land they are from is a paradiseBlessed by the greenest of sod.This makes me proudSure to be,And to meet an IrishmanJust like me.Then we can tell of the lakes and dellsAnd the beautiful shamrock bordered shores.

Oh! the beautiful morning sunThat shineth on the mistic dew,It sparkles different colorsOnce your eyes would do this, too.

Early in the springBeneath the veranda grewA lonely little violet,And it brought our love anewThe days that we were parted.My heart was ever true,I shall always love this violet,This violet and you.I’ll pluck this little fellow,And to you I’ll tenderly give.It’s a token of our reunion,May our love always live.Though life could give no sweeter, too,Than this violet, this violet, and you.And I shall hold in memoryThis violet, purple and green,For returning life’s happinessTo me, that’s what it means.Though my love it blew and blew,Rack to this violet, this violet, and you.

Early in the springBeneath the veranda grewA lonely little violet,And it brought our love anewThe days that we were parted.

My heart was ever true,I shall always love this violet,This violet and you.I’ll pluck this little fellow,And to you I’ll tenderly give.

It’s a token of our reunion,May our love always live.Though life could give no sweeter, too,Than this violet, this violet, and you.

And I shall hold in memoryThis violet, purple and green,For returning life’s happinessTo me, that’s what it means.Though my love it blew and blew,Rack to this violet, this violet, and you.

I’m slow to anger when trouble comes,For this is just my build,And to hurt the feelings of anotherIs usually against my will.

Around me at twilight shadows fall,From the beautiful heavens is a childish call.That has haunted me for years and years,Through my bitter sighs and salty tears,It’s Olegria, my little unseen.Ah! there’s my little darling oneTo pay me a visit, at the setting of the sun.Be seated here love, on the green sod,You’re a little blessing from our own God,Olegria, my little unseen.Now listen to the dream, of daddy’s golden hour,But awakened from his slumber by the down twinkling shower.Then I tried to stroke your beautiful brown hair,But the breath of a moment banished you into the air,’Twas farewell Olegria, my little unseen.

Around me at twilight shadows fall,From the beautiful heavens is a childish call.That has haunted me for years and years,Through my bitter sighs and salty tears,It’s Olegria, my little unseen.

Ah! there’s my little darling oneTo pay me a visit, at the setting of the sun.Be seated here love, on the green sod,You’re a little blessing from our own God,Olegria, my little unseen.

Now listen to the dream, of daddy’s golden hour,But awakened from his slumber by the down twinkling shower.Then I tried to stroke your beautiful brown hair,But the breath of a moment banished you into the air,’Twas farewell Olegria, my little unseen.

I dreamed you were dressed in an all old rose,So sadly I kissed you while my soul was reposed,I dreamed that you promised some day you’d be mine.I dreamed heaven blessed our love divine,Gone art that night to where no one knows,But I’ll n’er forget you, dressed in that all old rose.You gladden my heart while love breezes blew,I know not where my sorrow then flew,Maybe into lands where love ne’er growsTo tell you dressed in an all old rose.

If I had wings,I’d take you and soarTo a land of happinessFor evermore,Leaving all sorrowsTo the years we’ve seen,Then Cupid can playOn the grassy greens.She’d have no useFor her bow and arrow.Our hearts will be trueAnd gay as the sparrow.Then we can gaze downIn that valley so deepThat held our loveBefore it could creep.

Entertain no thought other than good,Then evilness around you will ne’er prevail.

An open expression may slip from the lips,But deceit constantly dwells within.

We only receive in valueThe interest in which we do a thing.

When the leaves have all turned brownAnd through the autumn breezeThey come sailing to the ground,This tells me that summer is gone.Left in the garden is one single rose,Its a sad token that every one knows,Oh! how my heart does sorrowfully swell,When that rose begins to tell that summer is gone.Now I’ve roamed and tried to findSome place to hide my sorrow behind,But where’er I goMother nature says so, that summer is gone.Where are the little birdsAnd their music I heard?They fly side by sideTo a place that provides, when summer is gone.The beautiful sun’s hidden behind the cloudsAnd my poor heart almost speaks aloud,To have it returnIt would cease to yearn, but summer is gone.

When the leaves have all turned brownAnd through the autumn breezeThey come sailing to the ground,This tells me that summer is gone.

Left in the garden is one single rose,Its a sad token that every one knows,Oh! how my heart does sorrowfully swell,When that rose begins to tell that summer is gone.

Now I’ve roamed and tried to findSome place to hide my sorrow behind,But where’er I goMother nature says so, that summer is gone.

Where are the little birdsAnd their music I heard?They fly side by sideTo a place that provides, when summer is gone.

The beautiful sun’s hidden behind the cloudsAnd my poor heart almost speaks aloud,To have it returnIt would cease to yearn, but summer is gone.

Idleness from day to dayUpon the strongest mind bad thought will playAround your heart there’s a knocking,’Tis consciousness; then to be idleShows ungodliness.

When you wear a frown, from day to day,Having no regards for the right I’ll saySeeking your company without a thought,And deafening your ears to what mother has taught,This puts a shadow on the beauty of life.If there sits before you a glass that bubbles,It means you only sorrow and troubles,’Twill take you to the late hours at nightAnd start your longing for wonderful sights.Then a shadow is on the beauty of life.If you ne’er look before you leapIn trying to get money by the heap,To lengthen joy rides in beautiful cars,Soon you will land behind the bars,This spreads a shadow on the beauty of life.If you’re easy persuaded in doing wrongYour heart will pay with a little sad song,When company isn’t right, travel alone.Then ask God to give you a mind of your own,And you’ll never shadow the beauty of life.

If there sits before you a glass that bubbles,It means you only sorrow and troubles,’Twill take you to the late hours at nightAnd start your longing for wonderful sights.Then a shadow is on the beauty of life.

If you ne’er look before you leapIn trying to get money by the heap,To lengthen joy rides in beautiful cars,Soon you will land behind the bars,This spreads a shadow on the beauty of life.

If you’re easy persuaded in doing wrongYour heart will pay with a little sad song,When company isn’t right, travel alone.Then ask God to give you a mind of your own,And you’ll never shadow the beauty of life.

Each happy thought may be followed by sorrow,It can steal away your smiles for to-morrow.The hours we are happy to our lives means a goal,Value happy thoughts for we are fast growing old,Walk a narrow path and from happiness borrow,For happiness could change in the next hourThen sorrow, like rainfall, could pour in showers.

Oh! sinful shawlThat holds me tight,Were you off my shouldersI’d be straight from this night.My sorrow’s too greatTo e’er be told.I being so weakAnd easy to infold.You have taken my strengthAnd let me fall.May this be a lessonTo us one and all.

Oh! sinful shawlThat holds me tight,Were you off my shouldersI’d be straight from this night.

My sorrow’s too greatTo e’er be told.I being so weakAnd easy to infold.

You have taken my strengthAnd let me fall.May this be a lessonTo us one and all.

When the sun goes down in the Golden West,Night blankets all nature at rest.Far in the east, creeps up the silvery moon,The night birds then begin to spoon.

A heart that is a dangerous oneIs a heart that cannot hold a secret.

Fate rules, time brings aboutAll of God’s blessing that’s in store for us.

A restful night makes bright the morn,This leads on to endless joyMaking life worth while.

War is over, peace is signed,Will the colored man be in the place he used to find?Well, he really should not for in the war he was trueAnd he’s waiting now to see what Democracy will do.Stand up! America, you’re the land of the noble and free,But you’re letting other countries mention things you ought to see.Oh! but we will live in hopes without a thought of feeling blue,But remember our little children knows what Democracy ought to do.Now to be frank, with you America and other countries knowJust how you treat the colored man, with that awful old jimcrow.We can be intelligent, dressed sufficient, when we walk in,As a rule we are grossly insulted on the account of the color of skin.I had a dream, America, just a dream of you.But I hope it was a nightmare only passing through.I saw you in another war, cannons roared, before declared,But if I were you I’d stay at home and clean my own golden stairs.Oh, but we will praise the Lord, from whom all blessings flow and singAnd watch that word Democracy, for we know what it ought to bring.

I had a dream, America, just a dream of you.But I hope it was a nightmare only passing through.I saw you in another war, cannons roared, before declared,But if I were you I’d stay at home and clean my own golden stairs.Oh, but we will praise the Lord, from whom all blessings flow and singAnd watch that word Democracy, for we know what it ought to bring.

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