HOPEDe dog go howlin' 'long de road,De night come shiverin' down;My back is tiahed of its load,I cain't be fu' f'om town.No mattah ef de way is long,My haht is swellin' wid a song,No mattah 'bout de frownin' skies,I'll soon be home to see my Lize.My shadder staggah on de way,It's monstous col' to-night;But I kin hyeah my honey say"W'y bless me if de sightO' you ain't good fu' my so' eyes."(Dat talk's dis lak my lady Lize)I's so'y case de way was longBut Lawd you bring me love an' song.No mattah ef de way is long,An' ef I trimbles so'I knows de fiah's burnin' strong,Behime my Lizy's do'.An' daih my res' an' joy shell be,Whaih my ol' wife's awaitin' me—Why what I keer fu' stingin' blas',I see huh windah light at las'.
De dog go howlin' 'long de road,De night come shiverin' down;My back is tiahed of its load,I cain't be fu' f'om town.No mattah ef de way is long,My haht is swellin' wid a song,No mattah 'bout de frownin' skies,I'll soon be home to see my Lize.
De dog go howlin' 'long de road,
De night come shiverin' down;
My back is tiahed of its load,
I cain't be fu' f'om town.
No mattah ef de way is long,
My haht is swellin' wid a song,
No mattah 'bout de frownin' skies,
I'll soon be home to see my Lize.
My shadder staggah on de way,It's monstous col' to-night;But I kin hyeah my honey say"W'y bless me if de sightO' you ain't good fu' my so' eyes."(Dat talk's dis lak my lady Lize)I's so'y case de way was longBut Lawd you bring me love an' song.
My shadder staggah on de way,
It's monstous col' to-night;
But I kin hyeah my honey say
"W'y bless me if de sight
O' you ain't good fu' my so' eyes."
(Dat talk's dis lak my lady Lize)
I's so'y case de way was long
But Lawd you bring me love an' song.
No mattah ef de way is long,An' ef I trimbles so'I knows de fiah's burnin' strong,Behime my Lizy's do'.An' daih my res' an' joy shell be,Whaih my ol' wife's awaitin' me—Why what I keer fu' stingin' blas',I see huh windah light at las'.
No mattah ef de way is long,
An' ef I trimbles so'
I knows de fiah's burnin' strong,
Behime my Lizy's do'.
An' daih my res' an' joy shell be,
Whaih my ol' wife's awaitin' me—
Why what I keer fu' stingin' blas',
I see huh windah light at las'.
APPRECIATIONMy muvver's ist the nicest one'At ever lived wiz folks;She lets you have ze mostes' fun,An' laffs at all your jokes.I got a ol' maid auntie, too,The worst you ever saw;Her eyes ist bore you through and through,—She ain't a bit like ma.She's ist as slim, as slim can be,An' when you want to slideDown on ze balusters, w'y sheSays 'at she's harrified.She ain't as nice as Uncle Ben,What says 'at little boysWon't never grow to be big menUnless they're fond of noise.But muvver's nicer zan 'em all,She calls you, "precious lamb,"An' let's you roll your ten-pin ball,An' spreads your bread wiz jam.An' when you're bad, she ist looks sad,You fink she's goin' to cry;An' when she don't you're awful glad,An' den you're good, Oh, my!At night, she takes ze softest hand,An' lays it on your head,An' says "Be off to Sleepy-LandBy way o' trundle-bed."So when you fink what muvver knowsAn' aunts an' uncle tan't,It skeers a feller; ist supposeHis muvver 'd been a aunt.
My muvver's ist the nicest one'At ever lived wiz folks;She lets you have ze mostes' fun,An' laffs at all your jokes.
My muvver's ist the nicest one
'At ever lived wiz folks;
She lets you have ze mostes' fun,
An' laffs at all your jokes.
I got a ol' maid auntie, too,The worst you ever saw;Her eyes ist bore you through and through,—She ain't a bit like ma.
I got a ol' maid auntie, too,
The worst you ever saw;
Her eyes ist bore you through and through,—
She ain't a bit like ma.
She's ist as slim, as slim can be,An' when you want to slideDown on ze balusters, w'y sheSays 'at she's harrified.
She's ist as slim, as slim can be,
An' when you want to slide
Down on ze balusters, w'y she
Says 'at she's harrified.
She ain't as nice as Uncle Ben,What says 'at little boysWon't never grow to be big menUnless they're fond of noise.
She ain't as nice as Uncle Ben,
What says 'at little boys
Won't never grow to be big men
Unless they're fond of noise.
But muvver's nicer zan 'em all,She calls you, "precious lamb,"An' let's you roll your ten-pin ball,An' spreads your bread wiz jam.
But muvver's nicer zan 'em all,
She calls you, "precious lamb,"
An' let's you roll your ten-pin ball,
An' spreads your bread wiz jam.
An' when you're bad, she ist looks sad,You fink she's goin' to cry;An' when she don't you're awful glad,An' den you're good, Oh, my!
An' when you're bad, she ist looks sad,
You fink she's goin' to cry;
An' when she don't you're awful glad,
An' den you're good, Oh, my!
At night, she takes ze softest hand,An' lays it on your head,An' says "Be off to Sleepy-LandBy way o' trundle-bed."
At night, she takes ze softest hand,
An' lays it on your head,
An' says "Be off to Sleepy-Land
By way o' trundle-bed."
So when you fink what muvver knowsAn' aunts an' uncle tan't,It skeers a feller; ist supposeHis muvver 'd been a aunt.
So when you fink what muvver knows
An' aunts an' uncle tan't,
It skeers a feller; ist suppose
His muvver 'd been a aunt.
A SONGOn a summer's day as I sat by a stream,A dainty maid came by,And she blessed my sight like a rosy dream,And left me there to sigh, to sigh,And left me there to sigh, to sigh.On another day as I sat by the stream,This maiden paused a while,Then I made me bold as I told my dream,She heard it with a smile, a smile,She heard it with a smile, a smile.Oh, the months have fled and the autumn's red,The maid no more goes by:For my dream came true and the maid I wed,And now no more I sigh, I sigh,And now no more I sigh.
On a summer's day as I sat by a stream,A dainty maid came by,And she blessed my sight like a rosy dream,And left me there to sigh, to sigh,And left me there to sigh, to sigh.
On a summer's day as I sat by a stream,
A dainty maid came by,
And she blessed my sight like a rosy dream,
And left me there to sigh, to sigh,
And left me there to sigh, to sigh.
On another day as I sat by the stream,This maiden paused a while,Then I made me bold as I told my dream,She heard it with a smile, a smile,She heard it with a smile, a smile.
On another day as I sat by the stream,
This maiden paused a while,
Then I made me bold as I told my dream,
She heard it with a smile, a smile,
She heard it with a smile, a smile.
Oh, the months have fled and the autumn's red,The maid no more goes by:For my dream came true and the maid I wed,And now no more I sigh, I sigh,And now no more I sigh.
Oh, the months have fled and the autumn's red,
The maid no more goes by:
For my dream came true and the maid I wed,
And now no more I sigh, I sigh,
And now no more I sigh.
DAYThe gray dawn on the mountain topIs slow to pass away.Still lays him by in sluggish dreams,The golden God of day.And then a light along the hills,Your laughter silvery gay;The Sun God wakes, a bluebird trills,You come and it is day.
The gray dawn on the mountain topIs slow to pass away.Still lays him by in sluggish dreams,The golden God of day.
The gray dawn on the mountain top
Is slow to pass away.
Still lays him by in sluggish dreams,
The golden God of day.
And then a light along the hills,Your laughter silvery gay;The Sun God wakes, a bluebird trills,You come and it is day.
And then a light along the hills,
Your laughter silvery gay;
The Sun God wakes, a bluebird trills,
You come and it is day.
TO DANStep me now a bridal measure,Work give way to love and leisure,Hearts be free and hearts be gay—Doctor Dan doth wed to-day.Diagnosis, cease your squalling—Check that scalpel's senseless bawling,Put that ugly knife away—Doctor Dan doth wed to-day.'Tis no time for things unsightly,Life's the day and life goes lightly;Science lays aside her sway—Love rules Dr. Dan to-day.Gather, gentlemen and ladies,For the nuptial feast now made is,Swing your garlands, chant your layFor the pair who wed to-day.Wish them happy days and many,Troubles few and griefs not any,Lift your brimming cups and sayGod bless them who wed to-day.Then a cup to Cupid daring,Who for conquest ever faring,With his arrows dares assailE'en a doctor's coat of mail.So with blithe and happy hymningAnd with harmless goblets brimming,Dance a step—musicians play—Doctor Dan doth wed to-day.
Step me now a bridal measure,Work give way to love and leisure,Hearts be free and hearts be gay—Doctor Dan doth wed to-day.
Step me now a bridal measure,
Work give way to love and leisure,
Hearts be free and hearts be gay—
Doctor Dan doth wed to-day.
Diagnosis, cease your squalling—Check that scalpel's senseless bawling,Put that ugly knife away—Doctor Dan doth wed to-day.
Diagnosis, cease your squalling—
Check that scalpel's senseless bawling,
Put that ugly knife away—
Doctor Dan doth wed to-day.
'Tis no time for things unsightly,Life's the day and life goes lightly;Science lays aside her sway—Love rules Dr. Dan to-day.
'Tis no time for things unsightly,
Life's the day and life goes lightly;
Science lays aside her sway—
Love rules Dr. Dan to-day.
Gather, gentlemen and ladies,For the nuptial feast now made is,Swing your garlands, chant your layFor the pair who wed to-day.
Gather, gentlemen and ladies,
For the nuptial feast now made is,
Swing your garlands, chant your lay
For the pair who wed to-day.
Wish them happy days and many,Troubles few and griefs not any,Lift your brimming cups and sayGod bless them who wed to-day.
Wish them happy days and many,
Troubles few and griefs not any,
Lift your brimming cups and say
God bless them who wed to-day.
Then a cup to Cupid daring,Who for conquest ever faring,With his arrows dares assailE'en a doctor's coat of mail.
Then a cup to Cupid daring,
Who for conquest ever faring,
With his arrows dares assail
E'en a doctor's coat of mail.
So with blithe and happy hymningAnd with harmless goblets brimming,Dance a step—musicians play—Doctor Dan doth wed to-day.
So with blithe and happy hymning
And with harmless goblets brimming,
Dance a step—musicians play—
Doctor Dan doth wed to-day.
WHAT'S THE USEWhat's the use o' folks a-frownin'When the way's a little rough?Frowns lay out the road fur smilin'You'll be wrinkled soon enough.What's the use?What's the use o' folks a-sighin'?It's an awful waste o' breath,An' a body can't stand wastin'What he needs so bad in death.What's the use?What's the use o' even weepin'?Might as well go long an' smile.Life, our longest, strongest arrow,Only lasts a little while.What's the use?
What's the use o' folks a-frownin'When the way's a little rough?Frowns lay out the road fur smilin'You'll be wrinkled soon enough.What's the use?
What's the use o' folks a-frownin'
When the way's a little rough?
Frowns lay out the road fur smilin'
You'll be wrinkled soon enough.
What's the use?
What's the use o' folks a-sighin'?It's an awful waste o' breath,An' a body can't stand wastin'What he needs so bad in death.What's the use?
What's the use o' folks a-sighin'?
It's an awful waste o' breath,
An' a body can't stand wastin'
What he needs so bad in death.
What's the use?
What's the use o' even weepin'?Might as well go long an' smile.Life, our longest, strongest arrow,Only lasts a little while.What's the use?
What's the use o' even weepin'?
Might as well go long an' smile.
Life, our longest, strongest arrow,
Only lasts a little while.
What's the use?
A LAZY DAYThe trees bend down along the stream,Where anchored swings my tiny boat.The day is one to drowse and dreamAnd list the thrush's throttling note.When music from his bosom bleedsAmong the river's rustling reeds.No ripple stirs the placid pool,When my adventurous line is cast,A truce to sport, while clear and cool,The mirrored clouds slide softly past.The sky gives back a blue divine,And all the world's wide wealth is mine.A pickerel leaps, a bow of light,The minnows shine from side to side.The first faint breeze comes up the tide—I pause with half uplifted oar,While night drifts down to claim the shore.
The trees bend down along the stream,Where anchored swings my tiny boat.The day is one to drowse and dreamAnd list the thrush's throttling note.When music from his bosom bleedsAmong the river's rustling reeds.
The trees bend down along the stream,
Where anchored swings my tiny boat.
The day is one to drowse and dream
And list the thrush's throttling note.
When music from his bosom bleeds
Among the river's rustling reeds.
No ripple stirs the placid pool,When my adventurous line is cast,A truce to sport, while clear and cool,The mirrored clouds slide softly past.The sky gives back a blue divine,And all the world's wide wealth is mine.
No ripple stirs the placid pool,
When my adventurous line is cast,
A truce to sport, while clear and cool,
The mirrored clouds slide softly past.
The sky gives back a blue divine,
And all the world's wide wealth is mine.
A pickerel leaps, a bow of light,The minnows shine from side to side.The first faint breeze comes up the tide—I pause with half uplifted oar,While night drifts down to claim the shore.
A pickerel leaps, a bow of light,
The minnows shine from side to side.
The first faint breeze comes up the tide—
I pause with half uplifted oar,
While night drifts down to claim the shore.
ADVICEW'en you full o' worry'Bout yo' wo'k an' sich,W'en you kind o' botheredCase you can't get rich,An' yo' neighboh p'ospahPast his jest desu'ts,An' de sneer of comerdsStuhes yo' heaht an' hu'ts,Des don' pet yo' worries,Lay 'em on de she'f,Tek a little troubleBrothah, wid yo'se'f.Ef a frien' comes mou'nin''Bout his awful case,You know you don' grieve himWid a gloomy face,But you wrassle wid him,Try to tek him in;Dough hit cracks yo' features,Law, you smile lak sin,Ain't you good ez he is?Don' you pine to def;Tek a little troubleBrothah, wid yo'se'f.Ef de chillun pestahs,An' de baby's bad,Ef yo' wife gits narvous,An' you're gettin' mad,Des you grab yo' boot-strops,Hol' yo' body down,Stop a-tinkin' cuss-w'rds,Chase away de frown,Knock de haid o' worry,Twell dey ain' none lef';Tek a little trouble,Brothah, wid yo'se'f.
W'en you full o' worry'Bout yo' wo'k an' sich,W'en you kind o' botheredCase you can't get rich,An' yo' neighboh p'ospahPast his jest desu'ts,An' de sneer of comerdsStuhes yo' heaht an' hu'ts,Des don' pet yo' worries,Lay 'em on de she'f,Tek a little troubleBrothah, wid yo'se'f.
W'en you full o' worry
'Bout yo' wo'k an' sich,
W'en you kind o' bothered
Case you can't get rich,
An' yo' neighboh p'ospah
Past his jest desu'ts,
An' de sneer of comerds
Stuhes yo' heaht an' hu'ts,
Des don' pet yo' worries,
Lay 'em on de she'f,
Tek a little trouble
Brothah, wid yo'se'f.
Ef a frien' comes mou'nin''Bout his awful case,You know you don' grieve himWid a gloomy face,But you wrassle wid him,Try to tek him in;Dough hit cracks yo' features,Law, you smile lak sin,Ain't you good ez he is?Don' you pine to def;Tek a little troubleBrothah, wid yo'se'f.
Ef a frien' comes mou'nin'
'Bout his awful case,
You know you don' grieve him
Wid a gloomy face,
But you wrassle wid him,
Try to tek him in;
Dough hit cracks yo' features,
Law, you smile lak sin,
Ain't you good ez he is?
Don' you pine to def;
Tek a little trouble
Brothah, wid yo'se'f.
Ef de chillun pestahs,An' de baby's bad,Ef yo' wife gits narvous,An' you're gettin' mad,Des you grab yo' boot-strops,Hol' yo' body down,Stop a-tinkin' cuss-w'rds,Chase away de frown,Knock de haid o' worry,Twell dey ain' none lef';Tek a little trouble,Brothah, wid yo'se'f.
Ef de chillun pestahs,
An' de baby's bad,
Ef yo' wife gits narvous,
An' you're gettin' mad,
Des you grab yo' boot-strops,
Hol' yo' body down,
Stop a-tinkin' cuss-w'rds,
Chase away de frown,
Knock de haid o' worry,
Twell dey ain' none lef';
Tek a little trouble,
Brothah, wid yo'se'f.
LIMITATIONSEf you's only got de powah fe' to blow a little whistle,Keep ermong de people wid de whistles.Ef you don't, you'll fin' out sho'tly dat you's th'owed yo' fines' feelin'In a place dat's all a bed o' thistles.'Tain't no use a-goin' now, ez sho's you bo'n,A-squeakin' of yo' whistle 'g'inst a gread big ho'n.Ef you ain't got but a teenchy bit o' victuals on de table,Whut' de use a-claimin' hit's a feas'?Fe' de folks is mighty 'spicious, an' dey's ap' to come apeerin',Lookin' fe' de scraps you lef' at leas'.Wen de meal's a-hidin' f'om de meal-bin's top,You needn't talk to hide it; ef you sta'ts, des stop.Ef yo' min' kin only carry half a pint o' common idees,Don' go roun' a-sayin' hit's a bar'l;'Ca'se de people gwine to test you, an' dey'll fin' out you's a-lyin',Den dey'll twis' yo' sayin's in a snarl.Wuss t'ing in de country dat I evah hyahed—A crow dot sat a-squawkin', "I's a mockin'-bird."
Ef you's only got de powah fe' to blow a little whistle,Keep ermong de people wid de whistles.Ef you don't, you'll fin' out sho'tly dat you's th'owed yo' fines' feelin'In a place dat's all a bed o' thistles.'Tain't no use a-goin' now, ez sho's you bo'n,A-squeakin' of yo' whistle 'g'inst a gread big ho'n.
Ef you's only got de powah fe' to blow a little whistle,
Keep ermong de people wid de whistles.
Ef you don't, you'll fin' out sho'tly dat you's th'owed yo' fines' feelin'
In a place dat's all a bed o' thistles.
'Tain't no use a-goin' now, ez sho's you bo'n,
A-squeakin' of yo' whistle 'g'inst a gread big ho'n.
Ef you ain't got but a teenchy bit o' victuals on de table,Whut' de use a-claimin' hit's a feas'?Fe' de folks is mighty 'spicious, an' dey's ap' to come apeerin',Lookin' fe' de scraps you lef' at leas'.Wen de meal's a-hidin' f'om de meal-bin's top,You needn't talk to hide it; ef you sta'ts, des stop.
Ef you ain't got but a teenchy bit o' victuals on de table,
Whut' de use a-claimin' hit's a feas'?
Fe' de folks is mighty 'spicious, an' dey's ap' to come apeerin',
Lookin' fe' de scraps you lef' at leas'.
Wen de meal's a-hidin' f'om de meal-bin's top,
You needn't talk to hide it; ef you sta'ts, des stop.
Ef yo' min' kin only carry half a pint o' common idees,Don' go roun' a-sayin' hit's a bar'l;'Ca'se de people gwine to test you, an' dey'll fin' out you's a-lyin',Den dey'll twis' yo' sayin's in a snarl.Wuss t'ing in de country dat I evah hyahed—A crow dot sat a-squawkin', "I's a mockin'-bird."
Ef yo' min' kin only carry half a pint o' common idees,
Don' go roun' a-sayin' hit's a bar'l;
'Ca'se de people gwine to test you, an' dey'll fin' out you's a-lyin',
Den dey'll twis' yo' sayin's in a snarl.
Wuss t'ing in de country dat I evah hyahed—
A crow dot sat a-squawkin', "I's a mockin'-bird."
A GOLDEN DAYI found you and I lost you,All on a gleaming day.The day was rilled with sunshine,And the land was full of May.A golden bird was singingIts melody divine,I found you and I loved you,And all the world was mine.I found you and I lost you,All on a golden day,But when I dream of you, dear,It is always brimming May.
I found you and I lost you,All on a gleaming day.The day was rilled with sunshine,And the land was full of May.
I found you and I lost you,
All on a gleaming day.
The day was rilled with sunshine,
And the land was full of May.
A golden bird was singingIts melody divine,I found you and I loved you,And all the world was mine.
A golden bird was singing
Its melody divine,
I found you and I loved you,
And all the world was mine.
I found you and I lost you,All on a golden day,But when I dream of you, dear,It is always brimming May.
I found you and I lost you,
All on a golden day,
But when I dream of you, dear,
It is always brimming May.
THE UNLUCKY APPLE'Twas the apple that in EdenCaused our father's primal fall;And the Trojan War, remember—'Twas an apple caused it all.So for weeks I've hesitated,You can guess the reason why,For I want to tell my darlingShe's the apple of my eye.
'Twas the apple that in EdenCaused our father's primal fall;And the Trojan War, remember—'Twas an apple caused it all.So for weeks I've hesitated,You can guess the reason why,For I want to tell my darlingShe's the apple of my eye.
'Twas the apple that in Eden
Caused our father's primal fall;
And the Trojan War, remember—
'Twas an apple caused it all.
So for weeks I've hesitated,
You can guess the reason why,
For I want to tell my darling
She's the apple of my eye.
THE DISCOVERYThese are the days of elfs and fays:Who says that with the dreams of myth,These imps and elves disport themselves?Ah no, along the paths of songDo all the tiny folk belong.Round all our homes,Kobolds and gnomes do daily cling,Then nightly fling their lanterns out.And shout on shout, they join the rout,And sing, and sing, within the sweet enchanted ring.Where gleamed the guile of moonlight's smile,Once paused I, listening for a while,And heard the lay, unknown by day,—The fairies' dancing roundelay.Queen Mab was there, her shimmering hairEach fairy prince's heart's despair.She smiled to see their sparkling glee,And once I ween, she smiled at me.Since when, you may by night or day,Dispute the sway of elf-folk gay;But, hear me, stay!I've learned the way to find QueenMab and elf and fay.Where e'er by streams, the moonlight gleams,Or on a meadow softly beams,There, footing round on dew-lit ground,The fairy folk may all be found.
These are the days of elfs and fays:Who says that with the dreams of myth,These imps and elves disport themselves?Ah no, along the paths of songDo all the tiny folk belong.
These are the days of elfs and fays:
Who says that with the dreams of myth,
These imps and elves disport themselves?
Ah no, along the paths of song
Do all the tiny folk belong.
Round all our homes,Kobolds and gnomes do daily cling,Then nightly fling their lanterns out.And shout on shout, they join the rout,And sing, and sing, within the sweet enchanted ring.
Round all our homes,
Kobolds and gnomes do daily cling,
Then nightly fling their lanterns out.
And shout on shout, they join the rout,
And sing, and sing, within the sweet enchanted ring.
Where gleamed the guile of moonlight's smile,Once paused I, listening for a while,And heard the lay, unknown by day,—The fairies' dancing roundelay.
Where gleamed the guile of moonlight's smile,
Once paused I, listening for a while,
And heard the lay, unknown by day,—
The fairies' dancing roundelay.
Queen Mab was there, her shimmering hairEach fairy prince's heart's despair.She smiled to see their sparkling glee,And once I ween, she smiled at me.
Queen Mab was there, her shimmering hair
Each fairy prince's heart's despair.
She smiled to see their sparkling glee,
And once I ween, she smiled at me.
Since when, you may by night or day,Dispute the sway of elf-folk gay;But, hear me, stay!I've learned the way to find QueenMab and elf and fay.
Since when, you may by night or day,
Dispute the sway of elf-folk gay;
But, hear me, stay!
I've learned the way to find Queen
Mab and elf and fay.
Where e'er by streams, the moonlight gleams,Or on a meadow softly beams,There, footing round on dew-lit ground,The fairy folk may all be found.
Where e'er by streams, the moonlight gleams,
Or on a meadow softly beams,
There, footing round on dew-lit ground,
The fairy folk may all be found.
MORNINGThe mist has left the greening plain,The dew-drops shine like fairy rain,The coquette rose awakes againHer lovely self adorning.The Wind is hiding in the trees,A sighing, soothing, laughing tease,Until the rose says "Kiss me, please,"'Tis morning, 'tis morning.With staff in hand and careless-free,The wanderer fares right jauntily,For towns and houses are, thinks he,For scorning, for scorning.My soul is swift upon the wing,And in its deeps a song I bring;Come, Love, and we together sing,"'Tis morning, 'tis morning."
The mist has left the greening plain,The dew-drops shine like fairy rain,The coquette rose awakes againHer lovely self adorning.The Wind is hiding in the trees,A sighing, soothing, laughing tease,Until the rose says "Kiss me, please,"'Tis morning, 'tis morning.
The mist has left the greening plain,
The dew-drops shine like fairy rain,
The coquette rose awakes again
Her lovely self adorning.
The Wind is hiding in the trees,
A sighing, soothing, laughing tease,
Until the rose says "Kiss me, please,"
'Tis morning, 'tis morning.
With staff in hand and careless-free,The wanderer fares right jauntily,For towns and houses are, thinks he,For scorning, for scorning.My soul is swift upon the wing,And in its deeps a song I bring;Come, Love, and we together sing,"'Tis morning, 'tis morning."
With staff in hand and careless-free,
The wanderer fares right jauntily,
For towns and houses are, thinks he,
For scorning, for scorning.
My soul is swift upon the wing,
And in its deeps a song I bring;
Come, Love, and we together sing,
"'Tis morning, 'tis morning."
THE AWAKENINGI did not know that life could be so sweet,I did not know the hours could speed so fleet,Till I knew you, and life was sweet again.The days grew brief with love and lack of pain—I was a slave a few short days ago,The powers of Kings and Princes now I know;I would not be again in bondage, saveI had your smile, the liberty I crave.
I did not know that life could be so sweet,I did not know the hours could speed so fleet,Till I knew you, and life was sweet again.The days grew brief with love and lack of pain—
I did not know that life could be so sweet,
I did not know the hours could speed so fleet,
Till I knew you, and life was sweet again.
The days grew brief with love and lack of pain—
I was a slave a few short days ago,The powers of Kings and Princes now I know;I would not be again in bondage, saveI had your smile, the liberty I crave.
I was a slave a few short days ago,
The powers of Kings and Princes now I know;
I would not be again in bondage, save
I had your smile, the liberty I crave.
LOVE'S DRAFTThe draft of love was cool and sweetYou gave me in the cup,But, ah, love's fire is keen and fleet,And I am burning up.Unless the tears I shed for youShall quench this burning flame,It will consume me through and through,And leave but ash—a name.
The draft of love was cool and sweetYou gave me in the cup,But, ah, love's fire is keen and fleet,And I am burning up.
The draft of love was cool and sweet
You gave me in the cup,
But, ah, love's fire is keen and fleet,
And I am burning up.
Unless the tears I shed for youShall quench this burning flame,It will consume me through and through,And leave but ash—a name.
Unless the tears I shed for you
Shall quench this burning flame,
It will consume me through and through,
And leave but ash—a name.
A MUSICALOutside the rain upon the street,The sky all grim of hue,Inside, the music-painful sweet,And yet I heard but you.As is a thrilling violin,So is your voice to me,And still above the other strains,It sang in ecstasy.
Outside the rain upon the street,The sky all grim of hue,Inside, the music-painful sweet,And yet I heard but you.
Outside the rain upon the street,
The sky all grim of hue,
Inside, the music-painful sweet,
And yet I heard but you.
As is a thrilling violin,So is your voice to me,And still above the other strains,It sang in ecstasy.
As is a thrilling violin,
So is your voice to me,
And still above the other strains,
It sang in ecstasy.
TWELL DE NIGHT IS PAS'All de night long twell de moon goes down,Lovin' I set at huh feet,Den fu' de long jou'ney back f'om de town,Ha'd, but de dreams mek it sweet.All de night long twell de break of de day,Dreamin' agin in my sleep,Mandy comes drivin' my sorrers away,Axin' me, "Wha' fu' you weep?"All de day long twell de sun goes down,Smilin', I ben' to my hoe,Fu' dough de weddah git nasty an' frown,One place I know I kin go.All my life long twell de night has pas'Let de wo'k come ez it will,So dat I fin' you, my honey, at las',Somewhaih des ovah de hill.
All de night long twell de moon goes down,Lovin' I set at huh feet,Den fu' de long jou'ney back f'om de town,Ha'd, but de dreams mek it sweet.
All de night long twell de moon goes down,
Lovin' I set at huh feet,
Den fu' de long jou'ney back f'om de town,
Ha'd, but de dreams mek it sweet.
All de night long twell de break of de day,Dreamin' agin in my sleep,Mandy comes drivin' my sorrers away,Axin' me, "Wha' fu' you weep?"
All de night long twell de break of de day,
Dreamin' agin in my sleep,
Mandy comes drivin' my sorrers away,
Axin' me, "Wha' fu' you weep?"
All de day long twell de sun goes down,Smilin', I ben' to my hoe,Fu' dough de weddah git nasty an' frown,One place I know I kin go.
All de day long twell de sun goes down,
Smilin', I ben' to my hoe,
Fu' dough de weddah git nasty an' frown,
One place I know I kin go.
All my life long twell de night has pas'Let de wo'k come ez it will,So dat I fin' you, my honey, at las',Somewhaih des ovah de hill.
All my life long twell de night has pas'
Let de wo'k come ez it will,
So dat I fin' you, my honey, at las',
Somewhaih des ovah de hill.
BLUEStandin' at de winder,Feelin' kind o' glum,Listenin' to de raindropsPlay de kettle drum,Lookin' crost de meddersSwimmin' lak a sea;Lawd 'a' mussy on us,What's de good o' me?Can't go out a-hoein',Wouldn't ef I could;Groun' too wet fu' huntin',Fishin' ain't no good.Too much noise fo' sleepin',No one hyeah to chat;Des mus' stan' an' listenTo dat pit-a-pat.Hills is gittin' misty,,Valley's gittin' dahk;Watch-dog's 'mence a-howlin',Rathah have 'em ba'kDan a-moanin' solemnSomewhaih out o' sight;Rain-crow des a-chucklin'—Dis is his delight.Mandy, bring my banjo,Bring de chillen in,Come in f'om de kitchen,I feel sick ez sin.Call in Uncle Isaac,Call Aunt Hannah, too,Tain't no use in talkin',Chile, I's sholy blue.
Standin' at de winder,Feelin' kind o' glum,Listenin' to de raindropsPlay de kettle drum,Lookin' crost de meddersSwimmin' lak a sea;Lawd 'a' mussy on us,What's de good o' me?
Standin' at de winder,
Feelin' kind o' glum,
Listenin' to de raindrops
Play de kettle drum,
Lookin' crost de medders
Swimmin' lak a sea;
Lawd 'a' mussy on us,
What's de good o' me?
Can't go out a-hoein',Wouldn't ef I could;Groun' too wet fu' huntin',Fishin' ain't no good.Too much noise fo' sleepin',No one hyeah to chat;Des mus' stan' an' listenTo dat pit-a-pat.
Can't go out a-hoein',
Wouldn't ef I could;
Groun' too wet fu' huntin',
Fishin' ain't no good.
Too much noise fo' sleepin',
No one hyeah to chat;
Des mus' stan' an' listen
To dat pit-a-pat.
Hills is gittin' misty,,Valley's gittin' dahk;Watch-dog's 'mence a-howlin',Rathah have 'em ba'kDan a-moanin' solemnSomewhaih out o' sight;Rain-crow des a-chucklin'—Dis is his delight.
Hills is gittin' misty,,
Valley's gittin' dahk;
Watch-dog's 'mence a-howlin',
Rathah have 'em ba'k
Dan a-moanin' solemn
Somewhaih out o' sight;
Rain-crow des a-chucklin'—
Dis is his delight.
Mandy, bring my banjo,Bring de chillen in,Come in f'om de kitchen,I feel sick ez sin.Call in Uncle Isaac,Call Aunt Hannah, too,Tain't no use in talkin',Chile, I's sholy blue.
Mandy, bring my banjo,
Bring de chillen in,
Come in f'om de kitchen,
I feel sick ez sin.
Call in Uncle Isaac,
Call Aunt Hannah, too,
Tain't no use in talkin',
Chile, I's sholy blue.
DREAMIN' TOWNCome away to dreamin' town,Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou,Whaih de skies don' nevah frown,Mandy Lou;Whaih he streets is paved with gol',Whaih de days is nevah col',An' no sheep strays f'om de fol',Mandy Lou.Ain't you tiahed of every day,Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou,Tek my han' an' come away,Mandy Lou,To the place whaih dreams is King,Whaih my heart hol's everything,An' my soul can allus sing,Mandy Lou.Come away to dream wid me,Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou,Whaih our hands an' hea'ts are free,Mandy Lou;Whaih de sands is shinin' white,Whaih de rivahs glistens bright,Mandy Lou.Come away to dreamland town,Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou,Whaih de fruit is bendin' down,Des fu' you.Smooth your brow of lovin' brown,An' my love will be its crown;Come away to dreamin' town,Mandy Lou.
Come away to dreamin' town,Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou,Whaih de skies don' nevah frown,Mandy Lou;Whaih he streets is paved with gol',Whaih de days is nevah col',An' no sheep strays f'om de fol',Mandy Lou.
Come away to dreamin' town,
Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou,
Whaih de skies don' nevah frown,
Mandy Lou;
Whaih he streets is paved with gol',
Whaih de days is nevah col',
An' no sheep strays f'om de fol',
Mandy Lou.
Ain't you tiahed of every day,Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou,Tek my han' an' come away,Mandy Lou,To the place whaih dreams is King,Whaih my heart hol's everything,An' my soul can allus sing,Mandy Lou.
Ain't you tiahed of every day,
Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou,
Tek my han' an' come away,
Mandy Lou,
To the place whaih dreams is King,
Whaih my heart hol's everything,
An' my soul can allus sing,
Mandy Lou.
Come away to dream wid me,Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou,Whaih our hands an' hea'ts are free,Mandy Lou;Whaih de sands is shinin' white,Whaih de rivahs glistens bright,Mandy Lou.
Come away to dream wid me,
Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou,
Whaih our hands an' hea'ts are free,
Mandy Lou;
Whaih de sands is shinin' white,
Whaih de rivahs glistens bright,
Mandy Lou.
Come away to dreamland town,Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou,Whaih de fruit is bendin' down,Des fu' you.Smooth your brow of lovin' brown,An' my love will be its crown;Come away to dreamin' town,Mandy Lou.
Come away to dreamland town,
Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou,
Whaih de fruit is bendin' down,
Des fu' you.
Smooth your brow of lovin' brown,
An' my love will be its crown;
Come away to dreamin' town,
Mandy Lou.
AT NIGHTWhut time 'd dat clock strike?Nine? No—eight;I didn't think hit was so late.Aer chew! I must 'a' got a cough,I raally b'lieve I did doze off—Hit's mighty soothin' to de tiah,A-dozin' dis way by de fiah;Oo oom—hit feels so good to stretchI sutny is one weary wretch!Look hyeah, dat boy done gone to sleep!He des ain't wo'th his boa'd an' keep;I des don't b'lieve he'd bat his eyesIf Gab'el called him fo'm de skies!But sleepin's good dey ain't no doubt—Dis pipe o' mine is done gone out.Don't bu'n a minute, bless my soul,Des please to han' me dat ah coal.You 'Lias git up now, my son,Seems lak my nap is des begun;You sutny mus' ma'k down de dayWen I treats comp'ny dis away!W'y, Brother Jones, dat drowse come on,An' laws! I dremp dat you was gone!You 'Lias, whaih yo' mannahs, suh,To hyeah me call an' nevah stuh!To-morrer mo'nin' w'en I callDat boy'll be sleepin' to beat all,Don't mek no diffunce how I roah,He'll des lay up an' sno' and sno'.Now boy, you done hyeahed whut I said,You bettah tek yo'se'f yo baid,Case ef you gits me good an' wrongI'll mek dat sno' a diffunt song.Dis wood fiah is invitin' dho',Hit seems to wa'm de ve'y flo'—An' nuffin' ain't a whit ez sweet,Ez settin' toastin' of yo' feet.Hit mek you drowsy, too, but La!Hyeah, 'Lias, don't you hyeah yo' ma?Ef I gits sta'ted f'om dis cheahI' lay, you scamp, I'll mek you heah!To-morrer mo'nin' I kin bawlTwell all de neighbohs hyeah me call;An' you'll be snoozin' des ez deepEz if de day was made fu' sleep;Hit's funny when you got a coughSomehow yo' voice seems too fu' off—Can't wake dat boy fu' all I say,I reckon he'll sleep daih twell day!
Whut time 'd dat clock strike?Nine? No—eight;I didn't think hit was so late.Aer chew! I must 'a' got a cough,I raally b'lieve I did doze off—Hit's mighty soothin' to de tiah,A-dozin' dis way by de fiah;Oo oom—hit feels so good to stretchI sutny is one weary wretch!
Whut time 'd dat clock strike?
Nine? No—eight;
I didn't think hit was so late.
Aer chew! I must 'a' got a cough,
I raally b'lieve I did doze off—
Hit's mighty soothin' to de tiah,
A-dozin' dis way by de fiah;
Oo oom—hit feels so good to stretch
I sutny is one weary wretch!
Look hyeah, dat boy done gone to sleep!He des ain't wo'th his boa'd an' keep;I des don't b'lieve he'd bat his eyesIf Gab'el called him fo'm de skies!But sleepin's good dey ain't no doubt—Dis pipe o' mine is done gone out.Don't bu'n a minute, bless my soul,Des please to han' me dat ah coal.
Look hyeah, dat boy done gone to sleep!
He des ain't wo'th his boa'd an' keep;
I des don't b'lieve he'd bat his eyes
If Gab'el called him fo'm de skies!
But sleepin's good dey ain't no doubt—
Dis pipe o' mine is done gone out.
Don't bu'n a minute, bless my soul,
Des please to han' me dat ah coal.
You 'Lias git up now, my son,Seems lak my nap is des begun;You sutny mus' ma'k down de dayWen I treats comp'ny dis away!W'y, Brother Jones, dat drowse come on,An' laws! I dremp dat you was gone!You 'Lias, whaih yo' mannahs, suh,To hyeah me call an' nevah stuh!
You 'Lias git up now, my son,
Seems lak my nap is des begun;
You sutny mus' ma'k down de day
Wen I treats comp'ny dis away!
W'y, Brother Jones, dat drowse come on,
An' laws! I dremp dat you was gone!
You 'Lias, whaih yo' mannahs, suh,
To hyeah me call an' nevah stuh!
To-morrer mo'nin' w'en I callDat boy'll be sleepin' to beat all,Don't mek no diffunce how I roah,He'll des lay up an' sno' and sno'.Now boy, you done hyeahed whut I said,You bettah tek yo'se'f yo baid,Case ef you gits me good an' wrongI'll mek dat sno' a diffunt song.
To-morrer mo'nin' w'en I call
Dat boy'll be sleepin' to beat all,
Don't mek no diffunce how I roah,
He'll des lay up an' sno' and sno'.
Now boy, you done hyeahed whut I said,
You bettah tek yo'se'f yo baid,
Case ef you gits me good an' wrong
I'll mek dat sno' a diffunt song.
Dis wood fiah is invitin' dho',Hit seems to wa'm de ve'y flo'—An' nuffin' ain't a whit ez sweet,Ez settin' toastin' of yo' feet.Hit mek you drowsy, too, but La!Hyeah, 'Lias, don't you hyeah yo' ma?Ef I gits sta'ted f'om dis cheahI' lay, you scamp, I'll mek you heah!
Dis wood fiah is invitin' dho',
Hit seems to wa'm de ve'y flo'—
An' nuffin' ain't a whit ez sweet,
Ez settin' toastin' of yo' feet.
Hit mek you drowsy, too, but La!
Hyeah, 'Lias, don't you hyeah yo' ma?
Ef I gits sta'ted f'om dis cheah
I' lay, you scamp, I'll mek you heah!
To-morrer mo'nin' I kin bawlTwell all de neighbohs hyeah me call;An' you'll be snoozin' des ez deepEz if de day was made fu' sleep;Hit's funny when you got a coughSomehow yo' voice seems too fu' off—Can't wake dat boy fu' all I say,I reckon he'll sleep daih twell day!
To-morrer mo'nin' I kin bawl
Twell all de neighbohs hyeah me call;
An' you'll be snoozin' des ez deep
Ez if de day was made fu' sleep;
Hit's funny when you got a cough
Somehow yo' voice seems too fu' off—
Can't wake dat boy fu' all I say,
I reckon he'll sleep daih twell day!
KIDNAPEDI held my heart so far from harm,I let it wander far and freeIn mead and mart, without alarm,Assured it must come back to me.And all went well till on a day,Learned Dr. Cupid wandered byA search along our sylvan wayFor some peculiar butterfly.A flash of wings, a hurried dive,A flutter and a short-lived flit;This Scientist, as I am aliveHad seen my heart and captured it.Right tightly now 'tis held amongThe specimens that he has trapped,And sings (Oh, love is ever young),'Tis passing sweet to be kidnaped.
I held my heart so far from harm,I let it wander far and freeIn mead and mart, without alarm,Assured it must come back to me.
I held my heart so far from harm,
I let it wander far and free
In mead and mart, without alarm,
Assured it must come back to me.
And all went well till on a day,Learned Dr. Cupid wandered byA search along our sylvan wayFor some peculiar butterfly.
And all went well till on a day,
Learned Dr. Cupid wandered by
A search along our sylvan way
For some peculiar butterfly.
A flash of wings, a hurried dive,A flutter and a short-lived flit;This Scientist, as I am aliveHad seen my heart and captured it.
A flash of wings, a hurried dive,
A flutter and a short-lived flit;
This Scientist, as I am alive
Had seen my heart and captured it.
Right tightly now 'tis held amongThe specimens that he has trapped,And sings (Oh, love is ever young),'Tis passing sweet to be kidnaped.
Right tightly now 'tis held among
The specimens that he has trapped,
And sings (Oh, love is ever young),
'Tis passing sweet to be kidnaped.
COMPENSATIONBecause I had loved so deeply,Because I had loved so long,God in His great compassionGave me the gift of song.Because I have loved so vainly,And sung with such faltering breath,The Master in infinite mercyOffers the boon of Death.
Because I had loved so deeply,Because I had loved so long,God in His great compassionGave me the gift of song.
Because I had loved so deeply,
Because I had loved so long,
God in His great compassion
Gave me the gift of song.
Because I have loved so vainly,And sung with such faltering breath,The Master in infinite mercyOffers the boon of Death.
Because I have loved so vainly,
And sung with such faltering breath,
The Master in infinite mercy
Offers the boon of Death.
WINTER'S APPROACHDe sun hit shine an' de win' hit blow,Ol' Brer Rabbit be a-layin' low,He know dat de wintah time a-comin',De huntah man he walk an' wait,He walk right by Brer Rabbit's gate—He know—De dog he lick his sliverin' chop,An' he tongue 'gin' his mouf go flop, flop—He—He rub his nose fu' to clah his scentSo's to tell w'ich way dat cottontail went,He—De huntah's wife she set an' spinA good wahm coat fu' to wrop him inShe—She look at de skillet an' she smile, oh my!An' ol' Brer Rabbit got to sholy fly.Dey know.
De sun hit shine an' de win' hit blow,Ol' Brer Rabbit be a-layin' low,He know dat de wintah time a-comin',De huntah man he walk an' wait,He walk right by Brer Rabbit's gate—He know—
De sun hit shine an' de win' hit blow,
Ol' Brer Rabbit be a-layin' low,
He know dat de wintah time a-comin',
De huntah man he walk an' wait,
He walk right by Brer Rabbit's gate—
He know—
De dog he lick his sliverin' chop,An' he tongue 'gin' his mouf go flop, flop—He—He rub his nose fu' to clah his scentSo's to tell w'ich way dat cottontail went,He—
De dog he lick his sliverin' chop,
An' he tongue 'gin' his mouf go flop, flop—
He—
He rub his nose fu' to clah his scent
So's to tell w'ich way dat cottontail went,
He—
De huntah's wife she set an' spinA good wahm coat fu' to wrop him inShe—She look at de skillet an' she smile, oh my!An' ol' Brer Rabbit got to sholy fly.Dey know.
De huntah's wife she set an' spin
A good wahm coat fu' to wrop him in
She—
She look at de skillet an' she smile, oh my!
An' ol' Brer Rabbit got to sholy fly.
Dey know.
ANCHOREDIf thro' the sea of night which here surrounds me,I could swim out beyond the farthest star,Break every barrier of circumstance that bounds me,And greet the Sun of sweeter life afar,Tho' near you there is passion, grief, and sorrow,And out there rest and joy and peace and all,I should renounce that beckoning for to-morrow,I could not choose to go beyond your call.
If thro' the sea of night which here surrounds me,I could swim out beyond the farthest star,Break every barrier of circumstance that bounds me,And greet the Sun of sweeter life afar,
If thro' the sea of night which here surrounds me,
I could swim out beyond the farthest star,
Break every barrier of circumstance that bounds me,
And greet the Sun of sweeter life afar,
Tho' near you there is passion, grief, and sorrow,And out there rest and joy and peace and all,I should renounce that beckoning for to-morrow,I could not choose to go beyond your call.
Tho' near you there is passion, grief, and sorrow,
And out there rest and joy and peace and all,
I should renounce that beckoning for to-morrow,
I could not choose to go beyond your call.
THE VETERANUnderneath the autumn sky,Haltingly, the lines go by.Ah, would steps were blithe and gay,As when first they marched away,Smile on lip and curl on brow,—Only white-faced gray-beards now,Standing on life's outer verge,E'en the marches sound a dirge.Blow, you bugles, play, you fife,Rattle, drums, for dearest life.Let the flags wave freely so,As the marching legions go,Shout, hurrah and laugh and jest,This is memory at its best.(Did you notice at your quip,That old comrade's quivering lip?)Ah, I see them as they come,Stumbling with the rumbling drum;But a sight more sad to meE'en than these ranks could beWas that one with cane upraisedWho stood by and gazed and gazed,Trembling, solemn, lips compressed,Longing to be with the rest.Did he dream of old alarms,As he stood, "presented arms"?Did he think of field and campAnd the unremitting trampMile on mile—the lonely guardWhen he kept his midnight ward?Did he dream of wounds and scarsIn that bitter war of wars?What of that? He stood and standsIn my memory—trembling hands,Whitened beard and cane and allAs if waiting for the callOnce again: "To arms, my sons,"And his ears hear far-off guns,Roll of cannon and the treadOf the legions of the Dead!
Underneath the autumn sky,Haltingly, the lines go by.Ah, would steps were blithe and gay,As when first they marched away,Smile on lip and curl on brow,—Only white-faced gray-beards now,Standing on life's outer verge,E'en the marches sound a dirge.
Underneath the autumn sky,
Haltingly, the lines go by.
Ah, would steps were blithe and gay,
As when first they marched away,
Smile on lip and curl on brow,—
Only white-faced gray-beards now,
Standing on life's outer verge,
E'en the marches sound a dirge.
Blow, you bugles, play, you fife,Rattle, drums, for dearest life.Let the flags wave freely so,As the marching legions go,Shout, hurrah and laugh and jest,This is memory at its best.(Did you notice at your quip,That old comrade's quivering lip?)
Blow, you bugles, play, you fife,
Rattle, drums, for dearest life.
Let the flags wave freely so,
As the marching legions go,
Shout, hurrah and laugh and jest,
This is memory at its best.
(Did you notice at your quip,
That old comrade's quivering lip?)
Ah, I see them as they come,Stumbling with the rumbling drum;But a sight more sad to meE'en than these ranks could beWas that one with cane upraisedWho stood by and gazed and gazed,Trembling, solemn, lips compressed,Longing to be with the rest.
Ah, I see them as they come,
Stumbling with the rumbling drum;
But a sight more sad to me
E'en than these ranks could be
Was that one with cane upraised
Who stood by and gazed and gazed,
Trembling, solemn, lips compressed,
Longing to be with the rest.
Did he dream of old alarms,As he stood, "presented arms"?Did he think of field and campAnd the unremitting trampMile on mile—the lonely guardWhen he kept his midnight ward?Did he dream of wounds and scarsIn that bitter war of wars?
Did he dream of old alarms,
As he stood, "presented arms"?
Did he think of field and camp
And the unremitting tramp
Mile on mile—the lonely guard
When he kept his midnight ward?
Did he dream of wounds and scars
In that bitter war of wars?
What of that? He stood and standsIn my memory—trembling hands,Whitened beard and cane and allAs if waiting for the callOnce again: "To arms, my sons,"And his ears hear far-off guns,Roll of cannon and the treadOf the legions of the Dead!
What of that? He stood and stands
In my memory—trembling hands,
Whitened beard and cane and all
As if waiting for the call
Once again: "To arms, my sons,"
And his ears hear far-off guns,
Roll of cannon and the tread
Of the legions of the Dead!
YESTERDAY AND TO-MORROWYesterday I held your hand,Reverently I pressed it,And its gentle yieldingnessFrom my soul I blessed it.But to-day I sit alone,Sad and sore repining;Must our gold forever knowFlames for the refining?Yesterday I walked with you,Could a day be sweeter?Life was all a lyric songSet to tricksy meter.Ah, to-day is like a dirge,—Place my arms around you,Let me feel the same dear joyAs when first I found you.Let me once retrace my steps,From these roads unpleasant,Let my heart and mind and soulAll ignore the present.Yesterday the iron searedAnd to-day means sorrow.Pause, my soul, arise, arise,Look where gleams the morrow.
Yesterday I held your hand,Reverently I pressed it,And its gentle yieldingnessFrom my soul I blessed it.
Yesterday I held your hand,
Reverently I pressed it,
And its gentle yieldingness
From my soul I blessed it.
But to-day I sit alone,Sad and sore repining;Must our gold forever knowFlames for the refining?
But to-day I sit alone,
Sad and sore repining;
Must our gold forever know
Flames for the refining?
Yesterday I walked with you,Could a day be sweeter?Life was all a lyric songSet to tricksy meter.
Yesterday I walked with you,
Could a day be sweeter?
Life was all a lyric song
Set to tricksy meter.
Ah, to-day is like a dirge,—Place my arms around you,Let me feel the same dear joyAs when first I found you.
Ah, to-day is like a dirge,—
Place my arms around you,
Let me feel the same dear joy
As when first I found you.
Let me once retrace my steps,From these roads unpleasant,Let my heart and mind and soulAll ignore the present.
Let me once retrace my steps,
From these roads unpleasant,
Let my heart and mind and soul
All ignore the present.
Yesterday the iron searedAnd to-day means sorrow.Pause, my soul, arise, arise,Look where gleams the morrow.
Yesterday the iron seared
And to-day means sorrow.
Pause, my soul, arise, arise,
Look where gleams the morrow.
THE CHANGELove used to carry a bow, you know,But now he carries a taper;It is either a length of wax aglow,Or a twist of lighted paper.I pondered a little about the scamp,And then I decided to followHis wandering journey to field and camp,Up hill, down dale or hollow.I dogged the rollicking, gay, young bladeIn every species of weather;Till, leading me straight to the home of a maidHe left us there together.And then I saw it, oh, sweet surprise,The taper it set a-burningThe love-light brimming my lady's eyes,And my heart with the fire of yearning.
Love used to carry a bow, you know,But now he carries a taper;It is either a length of wax aglow,Or a twist of lighted paper.
Love used to carry a bow, you know,
But now he carries a taper;
It is either a length of wax aglow,
Or a twist of lighted paper.
I pondered a little about the scamp,And then I decided to followHis wandering journey to field and camp,Up hill, down dale or hollow.
I pondered a little about the scamp,
And then I decided to follow
His wandering journey to field and camp,
Up hill, down dale or hollow.
I dogged the rollicking, gay, young bladeIn every species of weather;Till, leading me straight to the home of a maidHe left us there together.
I dogged the rollicking, gay, young blade
In every species of weather;
Till, leading me straight to the home of a maid
He left us there together.
And then I saw it, oh, sweet surprise,The taper it set a-burningThe love-light brimming my lady's eyes,And my heart with the fire of yearning.
And then I saw it, oh, sweet surprise,
The taper it set a-burning
The love-light brimming my lady's eyes,
And my heart with the fire of yearning.
THE CHASEThe wind told the little leaves to hurry,And chased them down the way,While the mother tree laughed loud in glee,For she thought her babes at play,The cruel wind and the rain laughed loudly,We'll bury them deep, they said,And the old tree grieves, and the little leavesLie low, all chilled and dead.
The wind told the little leaves to hurry,And chased them down the way,While the mother tree laughed loud in glee,For she thought her babes at play,The cruel wind and the rain laughed loudly,We'll bury them deep, they said,And the old tree grieves, and the little leavesLie low, all chilled and dead.
The wind told the little leaves to hurry,
And chased them down the way,
While the mother tree laughed loud in glee,
For she thought her babes at play,
The cruel wind and the rain laughed loudly,
We'll bury them deep, they said,
And the old tree grieves, and the little leaves
Lie low, all chilled and dead.
SUPPOSEIf 'twere fair to supposeThat your heart were not taken,That the dew from the rosePetals still were not shaken,I should pluck you,Howe'er you should thorn me and scorn me,And wear you for life as the green of the bower.If 'twere fair to supposeThat that road was for vagrants,That the wind and the rose,Counted all in their fragrance;Oh, my dear one,By love, I should take you and make you,The green of my life from the scintillant hour.
If 'twere fair to supposeThat your heart were not taken,That the dew from the rosePetals still were not shaken,I should pluck you,Howe'er you should thorn me and scorn me,And wear you for life as the green of the bower.
If 'twere fair to suppose
That your heart were not taken,
That the dew from the rose
Petals still were not shaken,
I should pluck you,
Howe'er you should thorn me and scorn me,
And wear you for life as the green of the bower.
If 'twere fair to supposeThat that road was for vagrants,That the wind and the rose,Counted all in their fragrance;Oh, my dear one,By love, I should take you and make you,The green of my life from the scintillant hour.
If 'twere fair to suppose
That that road was for vagrants,
That the wind and the rose,
Counted all in their fragrance;
Oh, my dear one,
By love, I should take you and make you,
The green of my life from the scintillant hour.
THE DEATH OF THE FIRST BORNCover him over with daisies whiteAnd eke with the poppies red,Sit with me here by his couch to-night,For the First-Born, Love, is dead.Poor little fellow, he seemed so fairAs he lay in my jealous arms;Silent and cold he is lying thereStripped of his darling charms.Lusty and strong he had grown forsooth,Sweet with an infinite grace,Proud in the force of his conquering youth,Laughter alight in his face.Oh, but the blast, it was cruel and keen,And ah, but the chill it was rare;The look of the winter-kissed flow'r you've seenWhen meadows and fields were bare.Can you not wake from this white, cold sleepAnd speak to me once again?True that your slumber is deep, so deep,But deeper by far is my pain.Cover him over with daisies white,And eke with the poppies red,Sit with me here by his couch to-night,For the First-Born, Love, is dead.
Cover him over with daisies whiteAnd eke with the poppies red,Sit with me here by his couch to-night,For the First-Born, Love, is dead.
Cover him over with daisies white
And eke with the poppies red,
Sit with me here by his couch to-night,
For the First-Born, Love, is dead.
Poor little fellow, he seemed so fairAs he lay in my jealous arms;Silent and cold he is lying thereStripped of his darling charms.
Poor little fellow, he seemed so fair
As he lay in my jealous arms;
Silent and cold he is lying there
Stripped of his darling charms.
Lusty and strong he had grown forsooth,Sweet with an infinite grace,Proud in the force of his conquering youth,Laughter alight in his face.
Lusty and strong he had grown forsooth,
Sweet with an infinite grace,
Proud in the force of his conquering youth,
Laughter alight in his face.
Oh, but the blast, it was cruel and keen,And ah, but the chill it was rare;The look of the winter-kissed flow'r you've seenWhen meadows and fields were bare.
Oh, but the blast, it was cruel and keen,
And ah, but the chill it was rare;
The look of the winter-kissed flow'r you've seen
When meadows and fields were bare.
Can you not wake from this white, cold sleepAnd speak to me once again?True that your slumber is deep, so deep,But deeper by far is my pain.
Can you not wake from this white, cold sleep
And speak to me once again?
True that your slumber is deep, so deep,
But deeper by far is my pain.
Cover him over with daisies white,And eke with the poppies red,Sit with me here by his couch to-night,For the First-Born, Love, is dead.
Cover him over with daisies white,
And eke with the poppies red,
Sit with me here by his couch to-night,
For the First-Born, Love, is dead.
BEIN' BACK HOMEHome agin, an' home to stay—Yes, it's nice to be away.Plenty things to do an' see,But the old place seems to meJest about the proper thing.Mebbe 'ts 'cause the mem'ries clingCloser 'round yore place o' birth'N ary other spot on earth.W'y it's nice jest settin' here,Lookin' out an' seein' clear,'Thout no smoke, ner dust, ner hazeIn these sweet October days.What's as good as that there lane,Kind o' browned from last night's rain?'Pears like home has got the startWhen the goal's a feller's heart.What's as good as that there jayScreechin' up'ards towards the graySkies? An' tell me, what's as fineAs that full-leafed pumpkin vine?Tow'rin' buildin's—? yes, they're good;But in sight o' field and wood,Then a feller understan's'Bout the house not made with han's.Let the others rant an' roamWhen they git away from home;Jest gi' me my old setteeAn' my pipe beneath a tree;Sight o' medders green an' still,Now and then a gentle hill,Apple orchards, full o' fruit,Nigh a cider press to boot—That's the thing jest done up brown;D'want to be too nigh to town;Want to have the smells an' sights,An' the dreams o' long still nights,With the friends you used to knowIn the keerless long ago—Same old cronies, same old folks,Same old cider, same old jokes.Say, it's nice a-gittin' back,When yore pulse is growin' slack,An' yore breath begins to wheezeLike a fair-set valley breeze;Kind o' nice to set aroun'On the old familiar groun',Knowin' that when Death does come,That he'll find you right at home.
Home agin, an' home to stay—Yes, it's nice to be away.Plenty things to do an' see,But the old place seems to meJest about the proper thing.Mebbe 'ts 'cause the mem'ries clingCloser 'round yore place o' birth'N ary other spot on earth.
Home agin, an' home to stay—
Yes, it's nice to be away.
Plenty things to do an' see,
But the old place seems to me
Jest about the proper thing.
Mebbe 'ts 'cause the mem'ries cling
Closer 'round yore place o' birth
'N ary other spot on earth.
W'y it's nice jest settin' here,Lookin' out an' seein' clear,'Thout no smoke, ner dust, ner hazeIn these sweet October days.What's as good as that there lane,Kind o' browned from last night's rain?'Pears like home has got the startWhen the goal's a feller's heart.
W'y it's nice jest settin' here,
Lookin' out an' seein' clear,
'Thout no smoke, ner dust, ner haze
In these sweet October days.
What's as good as that there lane,
Kind o' browned from last night's rain?
'Pears like home has got the start
When the goal's a feller's heart.
What's as good as that there jayScreechin' up'ards towards the graySkies? An' tell me, what's as fineAs that full-leafed pumpkin vine?Tow'rin' buildin's—? yes, they're good;But in sight o' field and wood,Then a feller understan's'Bout the house not made with han's.
What's as good as that there jay
Screechin' up'ards towards the gray
Skies? An' tell me, what's as fine
As that full-leafed pumpkin vine?
Tow'rin' buildin's—? yes, they're good;
But in sight o' field and wood,
Then a feller understan's
'Bout the house not made with han's.
Let the others rant an' roamWhen they git away from home;Jest gi' me my old setteeAn' my pipe beneath a tree;Sight o' medders green an' still,Now and then a gentle hill,Apple orchards, full o' fruit,Nigh a cider press to boot—
Let the others rant an' roam
When they git away from home;
Jest gi' me my old settee
An' my pipe beneath a tree;
Sight o' medders green an' still,
Now and then a gentle hill,
Apple orchards, full o' fruit,
Nigh a cider press to boot—
That's the thing jest done up brown;D'want to be too nigh to town;Want to have the smells an' sights,An' the dreams o' long still nights,With the friends you used to knowIn the keerless long ago—Same old cronies, same old folks,Same old cider, same old jokes.
That's the thing jest done up brown;
D'want to be too nigh to town;
Want to have the smells an' sights,
An' the dreams o' long still nights,
With the friends you used to know
In the keerless long ago—
Same old cronies, same old folks,
Same old cider, same old jokes.
Say, it's nice a-gittin' back,When yore pulse is growin' slack,An' yore breath begins to wheezeLike a fair-set valley breeze;Kind o' nice to set aroun'On the old familiar groun',Knowin' that when Death does come,That he'll find you right at home.
Say, it's nice a-gittin' back,
When yore pulse is growin' slack,
An' yore breath begins to wheeze
Like a fair-set valley breeze;
Kind o' nice to set aroun'
On the old familiar groun',
Knowin' that when Death does come,
That he'll find you right at home.
THE OLD CABINIn de dead of night I sometimes,Git to t'inkin' of de pas'An' de days w'en slavery helt meIn my mis'ry—ha'd an' fas'.Dough de time was mighty tryin',In dese houahs somehow hit seemDat a brightah light come slippin'Thoo de kivahs of my dream.An' my min' fu'gits de whuppinsDraps de feah o' block an' lashAn' flies straight to somep'n' joyfulIn a secon's lightnin' flash.Den hit seems I see a visionOf a dearah long agoOf de childern tumblin' roun' meBy my rough ol' cabin do'.Talk about yo' go'geous mansionsAn' yo' big house great an' gran',Des bring up de fines' palaceDat you know in all de lan'.But dey's somep'n' dearah to me,Somep'n' faihah to my eyesIn dat cabin, less you bring meTo yo' mansion in de skies.I kin see de light a-shinin'Thoo de chinks atween de logs,I kin hyeah de way-off bayin'Of my mastah's huntin' dogs,An' de neighin' of de hossesStampin' on de ol' bahn flo',But above dese soun's de laughin'At my deah ol' cabin do'.We would gethah daih at evenin',All my frien's 'ud come erroun'An' hit wan't no time, twell, bless you,You could hyeah de banjo's soun'.You could see de dahkies dancin'Pigeon wing an' heel an' toe—Joyous times I tell you peopleRoun' dat same ol' cabin do'.But at times my t'oughts gits saddah,Ez I riccolec' de folks,An' dey frolickin' an' talkin'Wid dey laughin' an dey jokes.An' hit hu'ts me w'en I membahsDat I'll nevah see no mo'Dem ah faces gethered smilin'Roun' dat po' ol' cabin do'.
In de dead of night I sometimes,Git to t'inkin' of de pas'An' de days w'en slavery helt meIn my mis'ry—ha'd an' fas'.Dough de time was mighty tryin',In dese houahs somehow hit seemDat a brightah light come slippin'Thoo de kivahs of my dream.
In de dead of night I sometimes,
Git to t'inkin' of de pas'
An' de days w'en slavery helt me
In my mis'ry—ha'd an' fas'.
Dough de time was mighty tryin',
In dese houahs somehow hit seem
Dat a brightah light come slippin'
Thoo de kivahs of my dream.
An' my min' fu'gits de whuppinsDraps de feah o' block an' lashAn' flies straight to somep'n' joyfulIn a secon's lightnin' flash.Den hit seems I see a visionOf a dearah long agoOf de childern tumblin' roun' meBy my rough ol' cabin do'.
An' my min' fu'gits de whuppins
Draps de feah o' block an' lash
An' flies straight to somep'n' joyful
In a secon's lightnin' flash.
Den hit seems I see a vision
Of a dearah long ago
Of de childern tumblin' roun' me
By my rough ol' cabin do'.
Talk about yo' go'geous mansionsAn' yo' big house great an' gran',Des bring up de fines' palaceDat you know in all de lan'.But dey's somep'n' dearah to me,Somep'n' faihah to my eyesIn dat cabin, less you bring meTo yo' mansion in de skies.
Talk about yo' go'geous mansions
An' yo' big house great an' gran',
Des bring up de fines' palace
Dat you know in all de lan'.
But dey's somep'n' dearah to me,
Somep'n' faihah to my eyes
In dat cabin, less you bring me
To yo' mansion in de skies.
I kin see de light a-shinin'Thoo de chinks atween de logs,I kin hyeah de way-off bayin'Of my mastah's huntin' dogs,An' de neighin' of de hossesStampin' on de ol' bahn flo',But above dese soun's de laughin'At my deah ol' cabin do'.
I kin see de light a-shinin'
Thoo de chinks atween de logs,
I kin hyeah de way-off bayin'
Of my mastah's huntin' dogs,
An' de neighin' of de hosses
Stampin' on de ol' bahn flo',
But above dese soun's de laughin'
At my deah ol' cabin do'.
We would gethah daih at evenin',All my frien's 'ud come erroun'An' hit wan't no time, twell, bless you,You could hyeah de banjo's soun'.You could see de dahkies dancin'Pigeon wing an' heel an' toe—Joyous times I tell you peopleRoun' dat same ol' cabin do'.
We would gethah daih at evenin',
All my frien's 'ud come erroun'
An' hit wan't no time, twell, bless you,
You could hyeah de banjo's soun'.
You could see de dahkies dancin'
Pigeon wing an' heel an' toe—
Joyous times I tell you people
Roun' dat same ol' cabin do'.
But at times my t'oughts gits saddah,Ez I riccolec' de folks,An' dey frolickin' an' talkin'Wid dey laughin' an dey jokes.An' hit hu'ts me w'en I membahsDat I'll nevah see no mo'Dem ah faces gethered smilin'Roun' dat po' ol' cabin do'.
But at times my t'oughts gits saddah,
Ez I riccolec' de folks,
An' dey frolickin' an' talkin'
Wid dey laughin' an dey jokes.
An' hit hu'ts me w'en I membahs
Dat I'll nevah see no mo'
Dem ah faces gethered smilin'
Roun' dat po' ol' cabin do'.
DESPAIRLet me close the eyes of my soulThat I may not seeWhat stands between thee and me.Let me shut the ears of my heartThat I may not hearA voice that drowns yours, my dear.Let me cut the cords of my life,Of my desolate being,Since cursed is my hearing and seeing.
Let me close the eyes of my soulThat I may not seeWhat stands between thee and me.
Let me close the eyes of my soul
That I may not see
What stands between thee and me.
Let me shut the ears of my heartThat I may not hearA voice that drowns yours, my dear.
Let me shut the ears of my heart
That I may not hear
A voice that drowns yours, my dear.
Let me cut the cords of my life,Of my desolate being,Since cursed is my hearing and seeing.
Let me cut the cords of my life,
Of my desolate being,
Since cursed is my hearing and seeing.
CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASESTim Murphy's gon' walkin' wid Maggie O'Neill,O chone!If I was her muther, I'd frown on sich foolin',O chone!I'm sure it's unmutherlike, darin' an' wrongTo let a gyrul hear tell the sass an' the songOf every young felly that happens along,O chone!An' Murphy, the things that's be'n sed of his doin',O chone!'Tis a cud that no dacent folks wants to be chewin',O chone!If he came to my door wid his cane on a twirl,Fur to thry to make love to you, Biddy, my girl,Ah, wouldn't I send him away wid a whirl,O chone!They say the gossoon is indecent and dirty,O chone!In spite of his dressin' so.O chone!Let him dress up ez foine ez a king or a queen,Let him put on more wrinkles than ever was seen,You'll be sure he's no match for my little colleen,O chone!Faith the two is comin' back an' their walk is all over,O chone!'Twas a pretty short walk fur to take wid a lover,O chone!Why, I believe that Tim Murphy's a kumin' this way,Ah, Biddy jest look at him steppin' so gay,I'd niver belave what the gossipers say,O chone!He's turned in the gate an' he's coming a-caperin',O chone!Go, Biddy, go quick an' put on a clane apern,O chone!Be quick as ye kin fur he's right at the dure;Come in, master Tim, fur ye're welcome I'm shure.We were talkin' o' ye jest a minute before.O chone!
Tim Murphy's gon' walkin' wid Maggie O'Neill,O chone!If I was her muther, I'd frown on sich foolin',O chone!I'm sure it's unmutherlike, darin' an' wrongTo let a gyrul hear tell the sass an' the songOf every young felly that happens along,O chone!
Tim Murphy's gon' walkin' wid Maggie O'Neill,
O chone!
If I was her muther, I'd frown on sich foolin',
O chone!
I'm sure it's unmutherlike, darin' an' wrong
To let a gyrul hear tell the sass an' the song
Of every young felly that happens along,
O chone!
An' Murphy, the things that's be'n sed of his doin',O chone!'Tis a cud that no dacent folks wants to be chewin',O chone!If he came to my door wid his cane on a twirl,Fur to thry to make love to you, Biddy, my girl,Ah, wouldn't I send him away wid a whirl,O chone!
An' Murphy, the things that's be'n sed of his doin',
O chone!
'Tis a cud that no dacent folks wants to be chewin',
O chone!
If he came to my door wid his cane on a twirl,
Fur to thry to make love to you, Biddy, my girl,
Ah, wouldn't I send him away wid a whirl,
O chone!
They say the gossoon is indecent and dirty,O chone!In spite of his dressin' so.O chone!Let him dress up ez foine ez a king or a queen,Let him put on more wrinkles than ever was seen,You'll be sure he's no match for my little colleen,O chone!
They say the gossoon is indecent and dirty,
O chone!
In spite of his dressin' so.
O chone!
Let him dress up ez foine ez a king or a queen,
Let him put on more wrinkles than ever was seen,
You'll be sure he's no match for my little colleen,
O chone!
Faith the two is comin' back an' their walk is all over,O chone!'Twas a pretty short walk fur to take wid a lover,O chone!Why, I believe that Tim Murphy's a kumin' this way,Ah, Biddy jest look at him steppin' so gay,I'd niver belave what the gossipers say,O chone!
Faith the two is comin' back an' their walk is all over,
O chone!
'Twas a pretty short walk fur to take wid a lover,
O chone!
Why, I believe that Tim Murphy's a kumin' this way,
Ah, Biddy jest look at him steppin' so gay,
I'd niver belave what the gossipers say,
O chone!
He's turned in the gate an' he's coming a-caperin',O chone!Go, Biddy, go quick an' put on a clane apern,O chone!Be quick as ye kin fur he's right at the dure;Come in, master Tim, fur ye're welcome I'm shure.We were talkin' o' ye jest a minute before.O chone!
He's turned in the gate an' he's coming a-caperin',
O chone!
Go, Biddy, go quick an' put on a clane apern,
O chone!
Be quick as ye kin fur he's right at the dure;
Come in, master Tim, fur ye're welcome I'm shure.
We were talkin' o' ye jest a minute before.
O chone!