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THE 



CAPTAIN 

JINKS 



O F 



TEE EOaSE MARINES, SONGSTER 



THE 




CAPTAIN JINKS; 



THE HORSE MARINES, 1 

SONGSTER 



COXTAIXIXQ 



The Great Lingard's Most Popular Songs. 

CT ADDITIONS TO OTHER CAPITAL, BALLADS, THIS BOOK 
ECCLCDES THE 



Music Arranged For Voices, 

OF 

'CAPTAIN DE WELLINGTON BOOTS ' 

AND 

'TOltaY DODD.' 



NEW-YORK: 
■ ; BOBEKT M. DE WITT, PUBLISHER, 
I .So. 13 Fs.i*sroRT Stbeet. 



r l rr i^ u ^?' n:! 11 Actor Cor,^p«», in th« yiir I s *;?, bv KOBEET 
■ J. DE WITT, in the Clertrt Ofl» of the uii« I Bum lfcrtriat 
• Court fur ttia Southern District of i«ew Ycrf 



CONTENTS 



The Captain Jinks, of the Horse Marines, 



SONGSTER 



1 



Annie Lisle, 

A» through the Park I Go,., 
Annie Laurie,. ...... — .... 



Bitter n«M>r,....., 
Big San. Flower,. 



Captain Jinks of the Horse 

Marines, 3 

Conn Uorae, Father, Si 

CottajebytiieSea 54 

Charming Youtl'i Widow, 45 

Champagne Charlie, Xo. L.... 48 

, Cnarepagne Charlie, Ko. 2,.... 49 
Captain ""Do Wellington Boots, 

(with masic.}... . 10. 

Do not 1le-<<3 Tier Wamic*,... ' 84 ! 

Daisy Deana, 47 

Pear Father Come Down with 

the Stamps....... ......... 28 

Dandy Pat, 41 

ISnoeh Arden, 55 



Mary of Argyle, 

Mabel "Waltz, as sang by Tony 

Pastor, 

Meet Me in the Lane 

Mother's Prayer, 

My Boyhood's Home, 

My Father Sould Charcoal,.... 



UnrahO'Xeal,... 
Sot for Joseph,.. 



Plvinjr Trar-eze,.... 33 

PWlow that Looks Like Me,... ST 
yatiurr*! Come Hosae,... ...... 21 



Ginsj's Warning, , 

Home, Sweet Home, 8* 

Italian Gaits PI? Boy 

ru n*'< my Mother and Let You 

Know... ft 

I'm Lonely To- Night,.. ....... S* 

Kia* yif. \Iother, K:.<» Tonr 

Dinnr Vt \ 

Kitty Wei- Mi 

Kathlien Marctcroeett, 56 



On the Beach at Long Branch,. 
OU Hats and Bags,.,. ......... 

Parody on Come Home Father, 

F.iorOld Slave 

Parody on Koran O'Neal,..-.-. 

Pat Slalloy,. -•- 

Parody on Pat Malloy,.. 

Pretty Little Sarah, -«»- 

Paddle Tour Own Canoe, AO. I 
Paddie Your Own Canoe, No. 2 

Rock Me to Steep, Mother,.... 
Eetnxa of Pat Malloy, 

S^rord ot BnnVer TDB*. 
Swinginc In the Lane,..,...... 

Sliding on. the Cellar Door,.... 



20 
IS 
58 
63 
60 

It 
43 

5 



IS 
40 

42 I 
SI -J 
5o 
53 



•9 
29 
30 



LIUIs Bare 



44 



"Tl» Hard to five the BandV . . S3 

Tim Fini ian'e Wake,. 52 

Tommy Podi, (with Mnsic.)-. 6"i 

Twenty Years Ago, 59 - 

Wattdn* Down flroadway,.,.. 21 

Wt>arin_' of the Green, -. ~- 

ivw-r.'K n,i-f.... . . . . « v m m 

What .N,»rah «ai i, - y» 

Wind^rin^ flofni"^ ^3 

We i'arted by the Hivcr tiiJ*,. 

Va.ltar Oal t5.at Winked at Me, Zi 



T#s Wvsjc -op *u. s.sx^a ix tc:« rV*x ess bs botgkt a* ts»-. 
ilcsso btou er Was. ILau. & 80.3, So. 541 BaaaoirAT, Xrw T»*s- 



CAPTAIN JINKS OF THE HORSE MARINES. 



As Bung by the 0sxir hisatns. 

I am Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines, 
I of-ten live beyond my means, 
I sport young ladies in their teens, 

To cut a swell in the army. 
I teach the La-dies how to dance, 
How to dance, how to dance, 
I teach the La-dies how to dance, 

For I'm their pet in the army. 

Spokes.— Ha I ha I ha ! 

CHOBCS. 

■-^» I'm Cap-tain Jink* of the Horse Marines, 
I give my horse good corn and beans ; 
Of course its quite beyond my means, 
Tho' a Captain in the ar-my. 

I joined my corps *whe» twenry-orw, 
Of course I thought it capital fun. 
When the enemy came then off I run, 

I was'nt cut out for the army, 
TVTien I left home mama she cried, 
Mama she cried, mama she cried, 
"When I left home mama she cried, 

" Ho aint cut out for the army." 

Spokes— Kc, she thought I was too young, hut then, I said, 
ah! mama, 

Pin Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines, &c 

The first day I -went out to drill. 
The bujrle sound made me quite ill. 
At the Balance step my hat it fell, 

And that wouldn't do for the army. 
Tho officers they all did shout. 
They all cried out, thoy all did shout. 
The officers ther all did shout, 
" " Oh that's tho cur*e of the army." 

SpoEE^T. — Of course my hat did fall off, but ah I nevertheless, 

Fm Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines, &e. 

My Tailors bills came in so fast, 
Forced me oao dar to leave at last. 




ITALIAN GUINEA PIG BOY. 

And ladies too no more did cast, 

Sheep's eyes at me in the army. 
My creditors at me did shout, 
At me did shout, at me did shout, 
My creditors at me did shout, - 
" Why kick him out of the army." 
Spoken— I said, ah I gentlemen, ah ! tick me out of the army ? 
■Fernaps you are not aware, that, V' 

I'm Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines, &c. 



ITALIAN" GUINEA PIG 30T. 

As song by tho Gctat Lisqaed. 

I'm a poor Italian Guinea pig boy, "*C 
Straight from Florence I oomo with my stock t 
My parents say, " Joseph, what for you roam," 
And mine little sister cry, when I leavee my home. 

cnor.tra. ; '• . 

- O zen take pity, 

On SB poor Italian Guinea pig boy, 
Vot leave him good home. 

Ven I l«tvee T-t a -l r , my friends say, " good-ore" 
We no see you gain but my Guinea cry « queak," 
1 fait in ze water and the people all stare, 

Hut mine Guinea jump'd in and pull me out by ze hair. j*. 

zen take pity, &as~' "*' 

/ell I recover*d and come to America, 

O it so good, I no go back again, 

Zo for my troubles I care not van fK 

Zo long as I please with my little Guinea pig. 

O Ten take pity, &e. 



e 

ON THE BEACH AT LONG BRANCH. 

. As Bong by tho Great Iasqxrd. 

On the Beach at Iiong Branch, one fine Summer's day, 
I had a novel reading to pass the time away, 
And so interested was I in the plot — 
A Gent stood there bedside me — still I saw him not — 
Till, at last, by chance, my eyelids I did raise — 
I found him on me looking with enraptured gaze — 
Bright blue eyes so sparkling, handsome Grecian nose, 
Teeth of pearly whiteness — quite the pink of beaux. 



CHOBUS. 

Twas on the beach at Long Branch, one fine Summer's day, 
I met this handsome roan who stole my heart away ; 
Now I feel so happy as blissful moments glide, 
The day is quickly coming when I shall be his bride I 

As like one awaking from some happy dream, 

We glances did exchange — his eyes with lore did boam— 

Ere much time was over, we began to chat — 

And hours passed away— still he beside me sat — , 

And with ways so winning he did love impart — 

My spirits rose as high as the early morning lark. 

He told me that he lored me, vowed that ail his life 

Would ba to him worthless, unless Fd be his wife. 

Twas on the beach, &c 



He said that if Ti marry, all troubles we would drown, 
And lire in blissful ignorance of all the cares of Town. 
"With soft persuasive power he told me of his love, 
Towing to be true, by all the Powers above 1 
He asked me if Fd marry, pressed me then to say — 
Till, to his wishes yielding, I named the happy day. 
He said his cup of bliss was filled qnite to the brim, 
He'd live alone for ine, and I alone for him 1 



Spoken. — And I can assure you, Ladies and Gentlemen, ha 
Is one of those dear (Jeligrh^fal fellows that no young girl could 
resist, and Fm very happy and proud to say : TJp to the pres- 
ent moment Fre no cause to regret that 

Twas on the beach, &e. 



AS THROUGH THE PASS I GO. 



A» snug by tno Great Lixgird. 

Oh ! Tm a girl that's fond of life, 

My ago is twenty-one, 
- - . I am averse to noise and strife, 

Bat very fond of fun ; 
And though to vice I'm not inclin'd, 

I like the flattery of mankind, 
And always like to speak my mind, 

Alike to every one. 

CHOBTJS. 
Eor as through the park I go, 
The gents all want to know, 
""Who is that darling girl that drives so ft ' F ' 
They'd like to know. 

I live at home with dear mam-ma, 

And do just as I wQl, - 

■While lovers come from near and far, 

And me with nonsense fin ; 
Eat I tell them all, 111 he a nnn, 
And. beg they will at once have done, 
But then they say, I'm only in fan, 

As I laugh behind my fan. 

Bpdkm. Well, of course lam In fan sometimes. Twsu 
only the other evening, mam-ma took me to a balL and bought 
me this sew dress from Madame Wintle for the occasion, for 
mam-ma said, I-must put on my best smiles and graces, for I 
was getting rather old and it was quite time I was off J**_ 
hands. Poor mam-ma I she always has mv interest at heart. 
So after the Ball was over one dear young fellow l«~an to ad- 
*v« me, and I really thought he was going to propose, but 
another gent came in and spoiled it alL and Tvo many times 
heard them both remark 

" As through the park I go, &c n 



OLD HATS AND BAGS. 



Aa nmg fcy the Orbit LiXG-ira. 

OH hats 1 old rags ! my trouble is greats 
Could I be in a more wretched state, 
I feel indeed my heart it will break ; 
List, and I will tell you of my wrongs, 
Hark and I will my woes unfold; 
By a girl I have been cruelly Bold, 
Arid through her I've lost all my nice gold, 
My heart and my gold is both gone. 

cnonr;3 

Old hats, old rag?, my cry is old rags : 
This bag on my back, the streets I drag, 
And Ruth, mine liuth, I did love her so, 
But Slotchzein, I find I've been sold. 

Sh3 lived down an area in Union Square, 
And every day I did pass me by there. 
She was possess'd of beauty most rare, 
And one day she beckoned me to come, 
She had some old hats to exchange for new. 
She melted the heart of this poor Jew, 
And how I loved her ! Ah, just a few, 
But Slotchzein, I find I've been sold. 

Old hats, old rags, &c 

I used to call on her most every day, 
Down on my knees I implored her to say 
She'd be my dear wife and not to say nsy, 
And then she agreed to be mine ; 
But, oh my heart, I must have been cream. 
For in my old coat I opened a seam, 
And gave ten dollars to my heart's queen, 
To buy her some things for the time. 

Old hats, old rags, &0. 

She said, JTow, dear Slotchzein, soon yonH be mine, 

Drink my good health in a gRfs of old wine, 

It must hare been powutiad, for I *lcpt such a time, 

"Which she turned it to profit it seems ; 

For when I awoke, T thought I must choke, 

I was tied by the arms and kg-j with a rope, 

And Ruth had honked it with mine coat, 

With a thousand dollars sewed in the seam. 

Old hats, old rags, &c 



BITTER BEER. 



As mmg by the Gbsat Lisqard 

The subject of my little song, 

Is one I hold most dear, 
It supports our Constitution, 

And it -will for many a year ; 
John jtVJl -would surely be defunct, 
* Or see look rather queer, 
If Bass & Co. should cease to brew 

Their glorious " Bitter Beer."* 

'* CHORUS. 

AHsop, Bass & Oo., they each deserve a monument, so gire 

them whlb we're here. 
Three cheers for Bass and Allsop, and their glorious " Bitter 

Beer." 

Tn tasted " Hock " and Claret too, 

Madeira and Hosella, 
ITot one of those boshy wines 
, ReTiYes this languid swell; 
Of all complaints from "A to Z," 

The fact is wry clear, 
There's no disease hut -what's been cured 

By Bass's " Bitter Beer." 

. Allsop, Bass & Co, &o. 

Pre lived in Scotland many years, 

And drank it3 mountain dew, 
I don't deny hut what it's good, 

And a stimulant, it's true. 
Tm. far from being prejudiced, 

As many think, I fear. 
But give to me a coolinp draught, 

Of Bass's "Eittcr Beer." 

Allsop, Baas & Co., &c 

•Ficnonsced " Bit-Uh Bee-io." 



THE SWORD OF BUNKER. WTT.T., 

.. _ ... % 
Composed by Wit-iiiK Boss Wailaci. 

He lay upon his dying bed, 

His eye "was growing dim, 
When with a feeble voice he called 

His weeping son to him ; 
Weep not, my boy, the veteran said, 

I bow to Heaven's high will, 
But quickly from yon antlers bring 

The Sword of Bunker HilL 

The sword was brought, the soldier's eye 

Lit with a sudden flame ; 
And as he grasped the ancient blade, 

He murmured Warren's name ; 
Then said : — My boy, I leave you gold, 

But what is richer still : 
I leave you, mark me, mark me, now, 

The Sword of Bunker HilL [Repeat. 

Twas on that dread, immortal day, 

I dared the Briton's band, 
A Captain raised his blade on me, 

I tore it from his hand : 
And while the glorious battle raged, 

It lightened Freedom's will: 
For, boy, the God of Freedom blessed 

Tho Sword of Bunker HilL [Repeal. 

Oh 1 keep the sword — his accents broke, 

A smile, and he was dead. 
But his wrinkled hand still grasped the blade, 

Upon that dying bed. " 
The son remains, the sword remains, 

Its glories growing still, 
And twenty millions ble«s the sire 

And Sword of Bunker HilL [Repeat. 



[Repeat. 



1* 

CAPTAIN DE WELLINGTON BOOTS. 





-S — sr—- — » — 3 — - — *— *— w — *- 

You must know I be -long to the ar - my, Toucan 



see it, of eourse, by my style, 



mCH» x — ^ 



- — ^— +: 



I tie - light in the 









1 * 1 J_ 







a - tie 



of Cap-tain, ' And up - on me the la - dies all 
■f „\ ^ _JS— v- 



smile; 



In the rantB of the " First Mounted Out o' Sights " I 



T? ^ t Jr 

bold an im-por-tant com - mand, 



1 



And per- haps you'll per - 



=*fc 



nut me 



to 



tell you There are no fin - -crimen in the 
Chorus. fWsltztog.) v 



To 



~» — 

la 



da 



— •— 

For 



land. 



3: 



da -with the la - dies, 
— V 



-v, — V 



that is the style that suits, 



The no 



tic frame and 





— j— 


i — N r- — fc-i 


N > - N 

— « -J_ 


rf— 




1 m — i 

glo • ri - ou» 


name Of 


... i< ■ 

Cap -tain de 


:., * — -•— ' 
Wei- ling- ton 


Boot 


s. 



CAPTAIN BE WELLINGTON BOOTS. [concluded.] 



You may talk of the Bar or the Navy, . 
! 'V- ■••""My ttfe beats trample to smash, 

You can get a fine post in the Army, . " - . 

That is if you've got but th6 cash; 
My dad you must know was a " grocer," 

Who contrived to scrape up a good gum, 

Bought me a commission with " sugar," 

And afterwards left me a " plum." 

6POKSN. — To enable me— — 

" -•'•-• CHOKES. *'.■•"-'" 

To la do da with the ladies, 
For thai is the style that suits 

The noblo frame and glorious name, 
Of Captain Be "Wellington Boots. 

Soirees and Balls I get feted, 

'Jhe darlings at me how they glance, 
And quarrel almost for the " Captain," 

Or implore I will join in the dance ; 
"Rnt dancing for me'a too much bother,- • 

- . - re cuch hard work to the rest, ■ 
~ lite billir rds and so I do croquet, 

After bl\ tho' tho thinr; I liko best 

Spoken. — Is 

r To la de da with the ladies, &c 

I tell them fine tales about battles, 

Which the darlings are anxious to hear, 
But what the smell of powder is like, 

I have not the slightest idea ; 
They think I've done glorious deeds. 

And have oft made the enemy fly, s 
But I havn't as yet, and what's more, 

I have no intention to try. 

Spokes. — Not in the hast Iprefer lyfar 

To la de da with the ladies, &c 

I chive a fine Drag that's a picture, 

I've a mare that's a devil to go, 
Of an afternoon I take a canter, 

^ilongst the fair ones who swarm Batten Bow; 



ANNIE LAURIE. 



They whisper : " See ! there goes the " Captain,"' 

And blush to their hairs' Tery roots, 
If they meet with the least recognition, 

From Captain De "Wellington Boots. 

Spokes.— They know I'm a perfect Adonis, and they like 

To la de da with the ladies, &c 

(Hon. See « A Widow Haul," published by Robert M. Do Witt In hi* 
Acting Flays.) 



ANXTE LAURIE. 

Ma xwelton Braes aro honnie, 
Where early fa's the dew. 
And it's there that Annie Laurie 
Gie'd me her promise true ; 
Gie'd me her promise true. 
Which ne'er forgot will be ; 
And for Bonny Annie Laurie 
I'd lay me doune and dee. 

Her brow is like the snaw drift— 
Her throat is like the swan, 
Her face it is the fairest 
That e'er the snn shone on — 
That e'er the sun shone on — 
And dark blue is her e'e ; 
And foT bonnie Annie Laurie 
Td lay me donne and dee. 

late the dew on the gowan lying. 
Is the fa' o' her fairy feet, 
And like the winds in summer sighing 
Her voice is low and sweet. 
Her voice is low and sweet, 
And she's a' the world to me : 
And for bonnie Annie Laurie 
Fdlay d© donne and dee. 



MEET ME IN THE LANE. 



Composed by Ciiulh Blawhiit. 

Ill meet thee in the lane, 

When the clock strikes Nine, , . 
In ecstacy again, love, 

To e-ill thee mine. 
My heart for thee is burning, 
My brain is almost whirling. 
Thro' loving thee so madly, 

My sweet Mountain Kose : 
When evening stars are peeping, 
Oh ! then will be our meeting, 
Old time too swiftly fleeting 

Our happy time away. 
IT1 meet thee in the lane, 
When the clock strikes nine, 
In ecstacy again, love, 

To call thee mine. 
My heart for thee is burning, 
My brain is almost whirling, 
Thro' loving thee so madly, 

My sweet Mountain Eose. 
cnonrjs. 

fil meet thee in the lane, ; 

When the clock strikes nine, 

In ecstacy again, love, 
To call thee mine, 

My heart for thee is burning, 
My brain is almost whirling, 

Thro' loving thee so madly, 
My sweet Mountain Hose. 

IT! leave thee in the lane, 
When the clock strikes Ten, 
And faithful will remain, lore, 

Believe me then : 
Deceive thee ! I will never. 
And breath from me must sever, 
If I forget thee ever, 

My sweet Mountain Bose I 
Thy presence care dispelling, 
All other charms excelling. 
Oh ! what to grace my dwelling 

As thee my Mountain Hose. 

Then meet mo in the lane, &0. 

CHOBTTS. 

I'll meet thee in the lana, &c 



NOEAH O'NUATi. 

Bone and Chorns written and composed by Will. S. Hatss 

Oh ! Tm lonely to-night, love, without you, 

And I sigh for one glance of your eye ; 
For, sura there's a charm lore, about you. 

Whenever I know yon are nigh. 
Like the beam of the star -when 'tis smiling, 

I3 the glance -which your eye can't conceal, 
And your voice is so sweet and beguiling, 

That I lore you, sweet Norah O'Neal. 

Oh ! don't think that ever rn doubt you, 

My fore I will never conceal ; 
Oh ! I'm lonely to-night, lore, without you, 

My darling, sweet Norah O'Neal 1 

Oh t the nightingale sings in the -wild-wood, 

As if every note that he knew 
Was learned from your sweet voice in childhood, 

To remind me, sweet Korah, of you 
But I think, love, so often about you, 

And you don't know how happy I feel, 
Bat I'm lonely to-night, love, without you 

Iff darling sweet Nbrah 0"Xeal ! 

Oh ! don't think that ever> 6t , 



Oh ! why should I weep tears of sorrow ? 

Or why to let hope lose its place ? 
Wont I meet'you. my darling; to-morrow, 

And smile on your beautiful face ? 
Will you meet me ? Oh I say, will you meet mo 

With a kiVi at the font of the lane ? 
r , And I'll promise whenever you greet me, 

That 111 never be lonely again. 

Oh ! don't think that ever. &c 



WHAT NORAH SAID. 



BEKLT TO "SOBAH 0*SKAI»" ~ ~ 
"Won* by Abihcb IUttbisos. Masio by W. F. Wim-xas, J*. 

I3 it lonely ye are then -without me ? ' 

Only wait, and 111 come bye-and-bye, 
For, meaelfs just entirely as lonely, 

And, Darling, I give sigh for sigh. 
If the glance of my eye's like the star, lore, 

If my voice sweetly strand* on ycrar ear, 
In your own looks of love my eyes brighten, 

And my voice tender grown when you're near. 

CH0BU3 

la it lonely ye are then without me ? 
Only wait, and Pll como bye-and-bye, 
* Tor, meselfs just entirely as lonely, 
, And, Darling, I give sigh for sigh. 

Sure, the nightingale's notes are delightful, 

"When he warbles, at night, in the wood. 
And if birds taught U3 colleen's love'a language, 

He's the sweet little Birdie that could, 
But it wasn't from him I learnt ringing, 

Not from nightingale, no, nor from dove ; 
Tis my-neart in my voice makes the music, 

"When I see th» dear Boy that I love. 

Is it lonely ye are thej , &c. 

Then, my Darling, oh ! speak not of sorrow, 

To her heart's core your Norah 13 true. 
She knows, Dennis dear, that you loTe her, 

And, Dennis, you know she loves you. 
And would ye then -wait till to-morrow? 

"While the moon «Mnea in heaven so bright, 
And the lano and the kiss bo convanient, 

"Won't I meet you, ay Darling-, to-night '. 

And would ye then wait tin to-morrow ? _ 
"While the moon shines in heaven so bright, 

And the lane and the kiss so convanient, 
"Won't I meet you, my Darling, to-night I 



VABODY ON NOBAH O'NEAL. 



OB TBYDJO TO RAISE A BQTJAIEE MEAL. 

■ Air :— " Korah O'Neal." 

I'm thirsty to-night, Jim, -without you, - 

And I sigh for a mrig of old rye; 
For, I know there are stamps, Jim, about yon, <- 

Whenever I'm hungry or dry. 
like a glass on the bar, when 'Us smiling, 

Is the thirst that I cannot conceal ; 
But I'm busted, and can't be beguiling', 

Though I'm, trying to raise a square meal. 



CHOKtra. 



Then, Jimmy, you never must teat me, 
I have no more stamps to conceal; 

Oh I I'm lonely for some one to treat _ma. 
And trying to raise a square meal! 



Oh! the laser flows free in Hoboken, 

As if every glass that -was drew, : 
Informed mo that excise was broken,- 

And reminds me of Bourbon and you. 
But Pre drank, Jim, so often -without you, 

And you don't know how jolly I reel; 
But I'm thirsty to-night, Jim, without yon, 

And trying to raise a square meal ! 

Then, Jimmy, you never, Ssc 



Oh 1 why should. I tmt or go borrow ? 

"Why should I let pluck lose its place ? 
Won't you treat me, dear Jimmy, to-morrow, 

As I smile on your ram-beaten face? 
"Won't you treat me ? oh ! say, won't yon treat me, 

With some sugar and gin, at the lane ? 
And 111 promise, whenever yon treat me, 

That I never will beat you again. 



Then, Jimmy, you never, &c 



yres bee MOTHEB, KISS YOUB DAEUH8. 



•Wordi by Lett* C.Ix>M>. Mnsio by G»o. Jt. Boot. 

Kiss me, Mother, kiss your darling. 

Lean my head upon your breast, 
Fold your loving arms around me, 

I am -weary, let me rest. 
Scenes of life are swiftly fading, 

Brighter seems the other Bhore: 
I am standing by the river, 

Angels 'wait to waft me o'er. 

CHOBUS. 

Kiss me, Mother, kiss your darling, 
Lean my head upon your breast, 

Told your loring arms around me, ' 
I am weary, let me rest. 

Kiss me, Mother, kisa your darling, 
; Breathe a blessing on my brow — 
For, I'll soon be -with the Angels, 

Fainter grows my breath, e'en now— 
Tell the loved ones not to murmur — 

Say I died oar Flag to save, 
And that I shall slumber sweetly 

In the soldier's honored grave. 

Kiss me, Mother, Su. 

Oh 1 how dark this world is growing, 

Hark ! I hear the Angel Band, 
How I long to join their number 

In that fair and happy land ! 
Hear you not that Heavenly music, • 

Floating near so soft and low? 
I mast leave you, farewell Mother I 

Kiss mo once before I go. 

Kiss me. Mother, &«. 



THE FLYING TRAPEZE. 



Once I was happy, but now Ym forlorn, 
Like an old coat that is tattered and torn, 
Left in this wide world to fret and to mourn— 

Betrayed by a maid in her teens. 
The girl that I loved, sho was handsome — 

I tried all I knew her to please ; 
Bat I could not please her one quarter so well 

Like that man upon the Trapeze. 

CHORUS. 

He'd fly through the air with the greatest of ease, 
A daring young man on the flying Trapeze — 

His movements were graceful : all girls he could please, 
And my love he purloined away. % 

This young man by name was Signor Bona Slang; 
Tall, big and handsome, as well made as Chang ; 
Where'er he appeared, the Hall loudly rang — 

"With ovation from all people there. 
He'd smile from the bar on the people below; 
• . And, one night, be smiled on my love, 

She winked back atbim, and he shouted : Bravo ! 

As he hung by hia nose up above. [Chqkus. 

Her father and mother were both on- tuy side. 
And very hard tried to make her my own bride . 
Her father he sighed, andTier mother she cried, 

To see her throw herself away. 
Twas all no avail: she went there every night, 

And would throw him bouquet3 on the stage, 
Which caused him to meet her : how he ran me down. 

To tell you would take a whole page. [CHOBT73. 

One night, I, as usual, went to her dear home, 

Found there her motherland father alone ; 

I asked for my love : and soon they made known, 

To my horror, that she'd run away ! 
She'd packed up her box and eloped, in the night, 

With him, with the greatest of ease : 
From two stories high, he had lowered her down, 

To the ground on his flying Trapeze I ' [Choscs. 

Some months after this, I went to a Hall, 
Was greatly surprised to see, on the wall, 
A bill in red. letters, which did my heart gall, 
That she was appearing with him I 



MAE.Y Or ABGlfXE. 



He taught her gymnastics, and dressed her in tights, 

To help him to lire at his ease, 
And made her assume a masculine name I 

And now she goes on the Trapeze ! 

CHORUS. 

She floats through the air with the greatest of eas», 
You'd think her a man on the flying Trapeze. 

She does all the work, while he takes his ease. 
And that's what's become of my lore 1 



MAST OF AKGYLE. 

I hove heard the msra singing, 

His love-song to the morn, 
1 have seen the dew-drops clinging'* 

To the rose just newly-horn ; 
Bat a sweeter song has cheered me, 

At the evening's gentle close, 
I have seen an eye still brighter, . , 

Than the dew*drops on the rose, 
Twas thy -voice, my gentle 31 ary, 

And tfiine artless, winning smile, 
That made this world an Eden, 

Bonny Mary of Argyle, 

Tho' thy voice may lo«e its sweetness,, 

And thine eye its brightness too, 
Tho' thy step may lose its fieetneas, , 

And thy hair its sunny hue, 
Still to me ahalt thou be dearer, 

Than all the world can own. 
I hare loved thee for thy heanty, 

But not for that alone. 
I hare watchpd thy heart, dear Mary, 

And its grrln« ->s was the wile 
That has made th'-e. miu-i for-jver. 

Bonny Hary of Argyle. 



30 



s 



THE MABEL WALTZ. 

As Bang by Tost PisroB. 

I once did know a pretty girl, 

She dressed so very neat; 
She used to run a sewing-machine, 

Down in Chatham Street. 
• 'Her eyes were bright, complexion light, ' 
• Her cheeks -were like the rose ; 
She'd a dimpled chim and pouting lips, ■ 

And a beautiful turn-up nose. 
I never can forget the night 

I met her at a ball: 
Twas a fancy hop, a dollar a head, 

Up at Irving Hall. 

CHOBUS. 

Bba looked so neat, I never thought she ever ttouU prove falsa ; 
"?PJ! aa "S^t as the bounding fawn, dancing the Mabel 

I often met her after that, 

Of tender thing3 we talked; 
And, every Sunday out of two, 

rd take her out to walk. 
I bought her lots of diamonds, 

At a-dollar-jewelry store, 
Andalso bought her a new silk-dress, 

Which every day she wore. 
In buying presents for that girl, 

I all my monev spent, 
until I found myself dead broke, 

And I hadn't got a cent. [ChoBTTS. 

And, then, I thought 'twas getting time 

lae question for to pop. 
I went ono day dressed in my best, 

Straight domi to the shop : 
She didn't come ; I asked the cause, 

And learned ftnra one Miss Brown 
aiy charmer had, that very day, 

Just gone out of town. 
Judse my feeling when Hiss Brown 

There creel words let slip: 
IPs my opinion she g gone off 

Upon her wedding trip. [Chorcs. 



""WALKING DOWN BROADWAY." 



21 



And when a year had passed away, 

At a window I did see 
Myf air, but false one, sitting 

With a baby on her knee. 
I quickly inarched into the house. 

And, there, what met ray view I 
Twas a tall Policeman, six feet high, 

He was her husband, too 1 
He collared me, and then commenced 

A series of assaults, 
I never chassez'd it so fast before, 

■While dancing the Mabel Waltz. [ChOBCX. 



"WALKING DOWN BKOADWAY." 
Bung by the Gm.it LraOiUB. 

The sweeteet thing in life 

And no one dare say nay, 
On a Saturday afternoon, 

Is walking down Broadway. 
My sisters, thro* the Park 

And at Long Branch wish to stay, 
But J prefer to walk 

Down the festive, gay Broadway. 

Walking down Broadway — walking down Broadway — 
The O. K. thing on Saturday is walking dowit Brcadw»y. 
Walking down Broadway— the festive, gay Broadway; 
The O K thing on Saturday, is walking down Broadway. 



Last Wednesday afternoon 

My ostisin Will did say, 
"^Nellie, come along with me, 

111 take you down Broadway, 
To the The'atre Comiqt.e, .. 

To see Captain Jinks so gay;; 
Then well dine at Delmonieo'o, 

Tore returning dawn Broadway. 

DlALOOTJK. — And I must say ladies and gentlemen, with all 
doe deference to other pleasures in life, there's nothing so 
charming &5-~~ 

Walking down Broadway, &c- 



,22 

THE WEARING OF THE GREEN. 



Bung by T. H. Glenny, at Niblo's Theatre, in the Great Sensation -Play 01 
" Arrah-na-Pogae. n 



O Paddy dear, and did yon hear the news that's going round t 
The shamrock is forbid, by law, to grow on Irish ground ! 
No more St Patrick's day well keep, his color last be seen ; 
For, there's a bloody law agin the Wearing of the Green ! 



Oh! I met with. Napper Tandy, and he took me by the hand, 
And he says : How is Ould Ireland, and how does she stand ? 
She's the most distressed Country that ever I have seen : 
For, they are hanging men and women for the Wearing of the 
Green! '■„.•'. 



And since the color we must wear, is England's cruel red, 
Ould Ireland's sons will ne'er forget the blood that they have 
- have shed. 

Then take the shamrock from your hat, and cast it on the sod : 
It will take root and flourish still, tho' under foot 'tis trod. 

When the law can stop the blades of grass from growing as 
they grow. . 

And when the leaves, in summfc. time, their verdure does riot 
show. 

Then, I will ohange the color I wear in my cabbeen: 
But, till that day, plaze God! IH stick to the Wearing of the 
Green 1 



Bnt if at last, her colors should be torn from Ireland's heart 
Her sons, with shame and sorrow, from the dear old soil will 
part; 

Pre heard whispers of a Country that lies far beyond tho say. 
Where rich and poor stand equal, in the light of Freedom** 
day! 

O T-lrin ! must we lave yon, driven by the tyrant's hand ? 
Mtwt w» ask a mother's Messina* in a strange bnt happy land, 
Wh»re the cruel Crr>ss ofEntrland's thraldom never shall be seen 
AndwlwTc. thank God! well live and die, still Wearingof tho 
Green? 



THE WHISTLING THTEF. 



2a 



. When Pat came o'er the hUls his colleen fair to see. 
His whistle, loud and shrill, his signal was to be. 
Oh! Mary, the mother cried, there's some one whistling sure. 
Oh ! Mother, you know, it's the wind that's whistling through 
the door. 

(Whistles : Garry Owen.) 

I've lived a long time, Mary, in this wide world, my dear, 
But the wind to whistle like that, I never yet did hear. 
Butmother, you know, the Eddie hangs close behind the -chink, 
And the wind upon the strings is playing a tune, I think. 

(Dog barks.) 

The doff is barking now, and the fiddle can't play .that tune. 
But, Mother, you know that dogs will bark, when they see the 

Now, how can he see the moon, -when you know he's old- and 

Blind do^an't see the moon, nor fiddles be played by the 
wind. 

(Kg grants.) 

And now there is the pig uneasy in his mind. 
But, Mother, you know, they say that pigs can see the wind. 
That's all verf well in the day, but then I may remark 
That pigs, no more than we, can see anything m the dark. 

Now, Tm not such a fool as you think, I know very well it ia 

Get out I von whistling thief, and get along home out o' that 
Hd you/bToff to yol* bed, and don't bother me with your 

For, thoOVe lost my eyes, I have not lost ray ears. 

Moral, 

Now Boys, too near the house don't courting go, cl'ye ? 
SSE-KHeitoiaswe the old woman's both deaf andblind; 
The davs when they were young, forget they never can ; 
TheywJe to tell the difference 'twixt wind, fiddle, m , dog, 
or man, 



24 

BOCK ME TO SLEEP, MOTHER. 



■Words by FtoMsrcs Pbkct. Music by Ebsist Lebi.ii. 

Backward, turn backward, Time, in your flight I 
Make me a child again, just for to-night ! . ^ 
Mother, come back from the eeholess shore, 
Take me again to your heart, as of yore. 
Kiss from my forehead the farrows of care, 
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair, 
Over my slumbers yovx loving watch keep, 
Eock me to deep, Mother, rock me to sleep I 

CIIOHCH. 

Clasped to your heart, in a loving embrace, 
With your light lashes just sweeping my face, 
, Never hereafter to wake or to weep, 
Bock me to sleep, Mother, rock me to sleep 1 

Over my heart, in the days that are flown, 
No lore, like mother-lore, ever has shone ; 
No other worship abides and endures, 
Faithful, unselfish and patient, like yours. 
None, like a mother, can charm away pain 
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain ; ' ' 
Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep, 
Bock me to sleep, Mother, rock me to sleep ! 

Clasped to your heart, &c. 

Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold, 
Fall on your shoulders again, as of old ; 
Let it drop over my forehead to-night, 
Shading my faint eyes away from the light, 
For, with its sunny-edged shadows, once more, 
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore, 
Lovingly, softly, its brieht billows sweep, 
. Bock me to sleep, Mother, rook ma to sleep I 
; * Clasped to your heart, &e. 



y COME HOME, FATHER. 



25 



"Words and SfiiBlc by Hesrt Cut Work. 

Father, dear father, come home with me now, 

The clock in. the steeple strikes one ; 
You said you were coming right home from the shop, 

As soon as your day's work was done. 
Our fire has gone out, our house is all dark, 

And mother's been watching since tea, 
With poor brother Benny so sick in her armsi 

And no one to help her hut me. 
Come home ! come home ! come home 1 

Please, father, dear father, come home ! 

CHOKTJS. 

Hear the sweet voice of the child, 

Which the night- winds repeat, as they roam I 
Oh ! who could resist this most plaintive of prayers; 
. Please, father, dear father, come home I 

Father, dear father, come home with me now, 

The clock in the steeple strikes two; _ , 
The night has grown colder, and Benny is worse ; 

But he has been calling for you : _ 
Indeed he is worse, ma says he will die — 

Perhaps before morning shall dawn 
And this is the message she sent me to bring: 

Come quickly, or he will be gone ! 

Come home ! come home ! come home ! 
Please, father, dear father, come hornet 

Hear the sweet veite a && 



Father, dear father, come home with mo now. 
The clock in the steeple strikes three; 

The house is so lonely, the hours are so long 
For poor weeping mother and me ! 

Tes, we are alone ; for Benny 13 dead, 
And gone with the an srels of light. 

And these were the very last words that he sai&i 
I want to kiss papa good-night 
Come home 1 come home ! come home I 
Please, father, dear father, conio homo £ 

Hear tha sweet voice, &c. 



PABODY ON COME HOME, FATHER. 



O Father, dear Father, come -with me now ; 

The clock in the steeple is fast, 
And Uncle is wild with the liquor he drank, 

And the crockery he is going to smash. 
The fire is out, the house is all dark, 

And we aint got no money for tea, 
And big brother Benny is out on a lark, 

And no one is soher hut me. 
Come home, come home, come home 1 

Please, Father, dear Father, come homo 1 



O Father, dear Father, come with me now; 

The clock in the steeple ia slow : 
A half hour I've heen calling for you to come home, 

But I find that it is no go. 
Tour friend is here, drunk on the floor ; 

He has pawned his hest clothes for whiskey ; 
If you don't come home, they'll all kill themselves : 

For they are all drunk, except me. 
Come home, come home, come homo 1 

Kease, FatheT, dear Father, oome homo 1 



O Father, dear Father, come with mo now, 

The clock in the steeple is stop't ; 
The boarder is home, here, drunk on the floor, 

And don't know what he is about ; 
l5er.t\y is hw: dead-drunk — Honor bright — 

The truth i'm tolling' you now : 
And tho<o were the very words that he said :' 

TVell ;ro ou a good drunk to-night I 
Come home, oomc home, come home 1 

Please, Father, dear Father, cuius horns 1 



FATHER'S COME HOME, 



A sequel to: "Oome Home, Father." 

Yes, Mary, my Mary, your father's como home, 
You waited through all the long night, 

He was deaf to your pleadings, for, reason was drowned- 
But, oh! it came back with the light 

It seems like a dream, oh! a temble dream- 
But, alas ! now I know it was true : 

Poor Benny is dead, but your fathers oome homo, 
Dear Mary, to mother and you. 

cnoucs. 

Oh! no more, through the dark, weary hours, ' , 

Little Itarv in sadness shall Toara, 
Ah ! how glad to her ears are the words which »ho hear*. 

Dear Mary, your father's come home i 

Please, Mary, tell mother that father's como home, 

And kneels by onr littls boy's bed ; 
4nd he prays for Gods help, that the husband may Ell 
' The place of the boy that is dead ; 
And say, though he left her forsaken to weep, 

All alone to*bear sorrow and pain, 
Hell nerer more cause her a pang or a tear, 

If once more she will trust him again. 

cnOKCa. 

Oh! no more shall the wife watch and weep, 

All in rain for the lived one to come ; 
And all gone are her fears, as the message she hears : 

Tell mother that father's come home. 

Yes, Mary, tell mother that father has left 

The drink that has made him so bad; _ 
You eaa say he has taken the Temperance-Pledge, 

I know it will make her heart glad *, 
And tell her he waits to clasp mother and child, 

And tow, on his knees, to be true i , 
Per father's come home, to his reason, at length, 

Dear Mary, to mother and you ! 

chobcs. 

Oh ! no more, to the mother and child, 
Shall the night black and desolat* come — 

For, the fire shall be bricht, and their hearts shall he light, 
"While saying -.Dear Father's come home ! 



DEAR FATHER 



COME BOWS WITH THE STAMPS. 



Oh ! Father, dear Father, come down with the stamps, 

My dressmaker's bill is unpaid ; 
She said she would send it right home from the shop, 

As soon as the flounces were made. 

Come down, come down, come down ! 

Please, Father, dear Father, come down! 



CHOKUS. 

Oh ! hear the sweet voice of thy child, 
- Who cries in her room all alone ; 
Oh 1 who could resist her most pitiful tears ? 
So, Father, with stamps quick come down ! 



My new dress from Stewart's is down in the hall, 

The boy will not leave with aut pay ; 
Tve nothing to sport with, can't go to the ball : 
So, please send the shop-boy away. 
Come down, come down, come down ! 
Please, Fathei, dear Father, come down ! 

Oh ! hear the sweet voice, &c. 



Oh ! Father, dear Father, come down with the stamps, 

My curls are not fit to be seen ; 
The hair-dresser said he would not do them up, 
Unless I could pay him fifteen. 

Come down, come down, come down ! 
Please, Father, for Barker come down! 

Oh! hear the sweet voice, Sea. 



He only asks twenty to give a new set, 

And takes the old hair in exchange ; 
Besides, Pa, my water-fall's awfully rough; 
And so my back hair will look strange- 
Come down, come down, come down ! 
Please, Father, for Barker come down I 

Oh I hear the sweet voice, &c 



SWINGING IN THE LAUE. - 
Words and Mnato by Chjslis Cxxhou Bxwtxx. 

How oft -we talked of childhood's joys, 

Of tricks -we used to play 
Upon each other, while at school 

To pass the time away ! 
But, oh ! how often have I longed 

ITor those bright days again, 
"When little rosy Nell and I 

"Went swinging in the lane t 

• CHORUS. 

But yet Fd give the world to be, 

With rosy Nell again, 
I never, never will forgot 

Our swinging in the lane ! 

The boys and girls would often go 

A-fishing in the brooks, 
"With spools of thread for fishing-lines, 

And bended j>ins for hooks ; 
They, sometimes, wished me with them, tat 

Thev, always, wished in vain ; - 
Td rather be with rosy NelL 

A-swinging in the lane. 

Batyetrd,&e. 

But soon a cloud of sorrow came— 

A strange young man, from town, 
Was introduced to rosy J»ell 

By Aunt Jemima Brown. 
She stayed away from school next day— 

The truth to me was plain — '-' 
She'd gone with that there city chap, 

A-swinging in the lane I 

Bnl yet Td, Sea. 

Now all young men with tender hearts, . 

Prav take advice from me : 
Don't "be so quick to fall in love 

"With every girl you wee ; 
For. if you do, you soon will find 

You've only loved in vain; 
She'll go off with some other chap, 

A-swinging in the lane I 

But yet Td, &0. 



SLIDING ON THE CELLAR BOOB. 



A PAEODT OS " SWINGING IX THE LANE." 

How oft we talk of childhood's joys, 

Of tricis we used to play, 
Playing " hooky" from the school 

To sport the lire-long day ; 
And oh ! how often do I sigh, 
. For those bright days of yore — 
When Billy, Brown and I did slide, 

Down on the cellar door. 

CHOKDS. 

STes, I would give all my greenbacks, 
To see those days once more; 

When Billy Brown and I slid down-. 
Old Grimes' cellar door. 

Some boys wonld stealing apples go, 

While others used to stray, 
Down on the dock where sugar casks 

In rows together lay ; 
But Bill and I would seek the spot^ 

So dear to us in yore ; 
And side by side, together slide, 

Rraa the old cellar door. 

Tea, I would, &c 

But at last a change came o'er the scene, 

When poor old Grimes he died — 
His son remored the cellar door 

On which we used to slide ; 
Our mothers they were proud of it. 

For the pan taloons we tore — 
They had to be half soled and healed. 

From sliding on the dooT. 

Tes, I would, &c- 

Bnt since I arrived to manhood's age, 

The Qiilr sport for me, 
Or my ancient friend Billy Brown, 

Is to gt* upon, a spree; 
Yet we never do enjoy ourselves, 

As in the days of yore, 
When careless laughing urchins we— 

Slid down the cellar door. 

Tea, I would, &c 



WE PARTED BY THE RIVER-SIDE. 



We parted by the river-side ; 
The moan looked down on you and me, 

The stars put on a look of pride, 
The river murmured to the sea: 

The dew-drops kissed the blushing rose. 
The gentle winds did sigh; 

One -word broke nature's sweet repose. 
The sad word -was : Good-tye 1 

cnoircs. 

Oh I tell me that you love me yet, . 
For, oh ! the parting gives me pain. 

Say, tell me that youH not forget, 
For, we may never meet again 1 , 

"We parted by the river-side : 
A tear-drop trembled on your cheek, 

In vain to tell my love I tried, 
My heart was sad, I could not speak. 

I promised that I would be trus 
So long as I -weald live ; 

The parting Ida I gave to you, 
■Was all I had to give. 
. , . . Oh! tell me, 



We parted by the river-side : 
And I have roamed a distant clime, 

5Iy heart ha* not forgot its pride ; 
For, I have loved you all the time. 

And I am faithful to yon still, 
While I believe you true; 

Afar or near, let come what will, 
TO lore you, you, only you. 

Oh! tell rac, fin. 



THE BIG SUN-FLOWER. 



Here is a charm I can't explain 

About a girl I've seen, 
And my heart beats fast -when she goes past 

In a dark dress trimmed with green, 
^er eyes are bright as evening stars, 

So lovely and so shy, 
And the folks all stop and look around 

Whenever she goes by. • 

CHORTJS. 

And I feel just as happy as a his Sun-flowsr 
That nods and bends in the breezes, 

And my heart is as light 03 the wind that blows 
The leaves from off the treeses. 

As time passed on and -we became 

I like friends of olden time, 
I thought the question I would pop 

And ask her to be mine. 
But the answer I received next day, 

How could she treat me so, 
For instead of being mine for life, 

She simply answered No I . 

And I fsel, Aw. 

I called next day dressed in ray best, 

3Ty fair one for to see, 
And asked her if she would explain. 

Why she had jilted mo. 
She said she really folt quite sad, 

To cause me such distress, 
And when I said, now do be mine, 

Why of course she answered, yes. . 



And I fsel, Ac 



THE GIPSY'S WASHING. 



Trust him not, O Gcndo Lady, 

Though his voice be low and sweet, 
Heed not him who kneels before thee. 

Softly pleading at thy feet. 
Now thy life is in its morning : 

Cloud not this thy happy lot. 
Listen to the Gipsy's warning-. 

Gentle Lady, trust him not. 

Lady, once there lived a maiden, 

Young and pure, and like theo fair : 
Yet, he wooed, he wooed, and own her, 

Thrilled her gentle heart with care. 
Then he heeded not her weeping', 

He eared not her life to save ! 
Soon she perished — now she's sleeping 

la the cold and silent gravel 

Lady, turn not from me so coldly ; 

For, I have only told the truth, 
From a stem and withering sorrow, 

Lady I would shield thy youth. 
I would shield thee from all danger, 

Shield thee from the Tempter's snare; 
Lady, shun the dark-eyed stranger, 

I have warned thee — now beware. 

Take your gold, T do not want it, 

Lady, I have prayed for thi-, 
For the hour that I»might foil him, 

And rob him of expected Mi.is. 
Aye, I see thou art filled with wonder 

At mv look so fierce and wild, 
Ladv in the church-yard yonder, 

Sleeps the Gipsy's only chili 



DO NOT HEED HER WAitNINGk 



ANSWER TO THE GIPSY'S WABNIKQ. 

Lady, do not heed her warning 1 , 

Trust me, thou shalt find me true ; 
Constant as the light of morning 

I will ever be to you. 
Lady, I will not deceive thee, 

Fill thy guileless heart with woe ; 
Trust me, lady, and believe me, 

Sorrow thou shalt never know. , 

Lady, every joy would perish, 

Measures all would wither fast, 
If no heart could love and cherish, 

In this world of storm and blast ; 
E'en the stars that gleam above thee, 

Shine the brightest in the night ; 
So would he who fondly loves thee, 

In the darkness, be thy light. 

Down beside the flowing river, 

Where the dark-green willow weeps, 
Where the leafy branches quiver, 

There a gentle maiden sleeps: 
In the morn, a lonely stranger - .-. 

Comes and lingers many hours,". 
Lady, he's no heartless ranger, 

For, he strews her grave with flowers. 

Lady, hoed thee not her warning, 

Lay thy soft white hand in mine : 
For, I seek no fairer laurel 

Than the constant love of thine. 
When the silver moonlight brightens, 

Thou shalt slumber on my breast. 
Tender words thy soul shall lighten. 

Lull thy spirit into rest. 



ENOCH ASDEST. 



Cheer up, Annie darling, with hopeful emotion, 

To-morrow our parting must be ; 
I'll sail the seas over, IT1 cross the -wide ocean, 

I'll sail the seas over for thee ; 
111 not forget thee, oh ! never, no never ! 

I cannot forget thee, 1 know : 
Thy smile, like a phantom, will haunt me forever. 

And cheer me where'er I may go. 

CHOitra. 

Good-by, Annie, darling I 
• I'll sail o'er the sea, 
m cross the wide ocean, 
HI cross the wide ocean for thee. 

I go, Annie darling, hut leave thee in sorrow; 

I go for thy sake far away, 
Then bid me good-bye, with a smile on the morrow, 

And cheer me with blessings I pray. 
IT1 think of thee ever, and pray for thee, 

As over the waters I roam ; 
111 tarry not darling, and leave thee all lonely, 

Bui hasten again to my home. 

Good-bye, Annie, darling, &e. 

Out, out on the ocean, away o'er the billow, 

My heart on its purpose intent, 
My brow shall find rest, when I seek my lone pillow, 

In knowing that thou art content. 
Cheer up, Annie, darling, break off from thy sorrow: 

Tis sad that our parting must be : 
But give me thy smile, when I leave thee, to-morrow, 

To sail the seas over for thee. 

Good-bye, Annie, darling, i&o. 



THE POOE. OLD SLAVE. 

Tis just one year ago to-day, 

That I remember well, 
I sat down by poor IT filly's side 

A story she did tell ; 
Twas about a poor unhappy slave 

That lived for many a year, 
But now he'a dead and in his grave, 

Ko master does he fear. 

CHORUS. 

The poor old slave has gone to rest, 
"We know that he is free, 

Disturb him not, hat let him reel 
"Way down in Tennessee. 



She took my ana, we walked along 

Into an open field, 
And she paused to breathe awhile, 

Then to his grave did steal. 
She sat down by that little mound, 

And softly whispered there, 
Come to me, father, 'tis thy child, 

Then gently dropped a tear. 

The poor old slave, &o» 

But since that time how things have changed, 

Poor Nelly that was my bride, 
Is laid beneath the cold grave sod, 

"With hrr father by her side. 
I planted there upon her grave, 

The woepinij willow tree, 
I bathed its roots with many a tear 

That it might shelter me. 



The poor old slave, &c 



THE FEXiOW THAT LOOKS LIKE ME. 



In sad despair I wander, 

Sly heart is filled with woe, 
"When on my griefs I ponder, 

What to do 'i I do not know. 
For, cruel fate does on me frown. 

And the trouble seems to be: 
There's another fellow, in this 'ere town, 

That's just the image of me. 

cnontrs. 

Oh 1 wouldn't I like to catch him, 

■Whoever he may be ! 
Oh 1 wouldn't I give him particular fita, 

That fellow who looks like me 1 

With a lady fair I started, 

To the Central Park to go, 
Bnt was stopped, in the street, by a man 

"Who said : Pay this bill you owe. 
In vain I said : I know yon not. 

He wouldn't let me free, 
Till a crowd came 'roun&V and. the bill I paid, 
, For the fellow that looks like me. 

Oh ! wouldn't I like, &c 

The other day, while walking 

Through a narrow street, np town, 
I was seized by a man, in a rage, 

Who said : Fre caught yon, Sir. Brown ; 
Ton know my daughter yon have wronged. 

Though his pal I never did see, 
He beat me, till I was black and Mae, 

For ths fellow that looks like me. 

Oh ! wouldn't I like, &c 

One evening, I sat Fjjarking 

A girl as dear as life. 
When a lady, who had just dropped in. 

Says : Brown, how is your wife ? 
In vain I said : I'm a single man, 

Thouirh married. I wi>h to be. 
Tfcev called ir.e a swindW, and kicked me out, 

For the fellow that looks like me. 

Oh ! wouldn't I like, &c 

Unto a ball, one night, I went. 
And was just enjoying the sport. 



.38 • 

'TIS HARD TO GIVE THE HAND, 

Ween a Policeman grabbed me by the arm, 
Saying: You're wanted down at Court, 

Youfve escaped us twice; but this 'ere time, 
I'll take care you shan't get free, 

So, I was arrested, dragged to jail, 
For the fellow that looks like me. 

Oh ! wouldn't I like, &c X 

I was tried next day, found guilty, too, 

And about to be taken down, 
When another Policeman then brought in 

The right Criminal — Mr. Brown. 
They set me free, and locked up him, 

Oh ! he was a sight to see, 
The ugliest wretch that ever I saw, 

Was the fellow that looked like me. 

Oh! wouldn't I like, &c- 



TS HARD TO GIVE THE HAND. 



WITEItE THE IfKAHT CAN NEVER BE. 

Tho* I mingle in the throng, of the happy and the gay, 
From the mirth of dance and song, I would fain be far away ', 
Eor I love to use no wile, and I can but deem it sin, 
That the brow would wear a smile, when the soul is sad within. 
Tho' a parent's stern command claims obedience from me, 
Oh, 'tis hard to give the hand, where the heart can never be. 

Tis hard to give, &c. 

I have siirhcd and suffered long, yet have never told my grief, 
In the hope that for my wrong, time itself will find relief, 
I will own no rebel thought, and I will not wear the chain. 
That for me must still be fraught, with but mis-cry and pain. 
In all else I will be bland, but in this I must be free, 
And will not give the hand, where tho heart can never be. 

And will not give, &«. 



THE TALLER GAL THAT WINKED AT ME. 



Mnsie by IT. A. Hbb3U3tc>kz. 

Tour attention I ask for a -while, .. _ v . . . 

To a song I'm going to sing yon, 
It's about a pretty yaller gal I met -while I was -walking, 

And she threw such a glance at me — 
She was pretty and as s-weet as a flo-wer, 

Such clothes yon never did see — 
She'd a darling little bonnet with a flower-garden on it, 

Had the yaller gal that winked, at me. 

CltOKUS. 

Oh my 1 she looked so sweet and she dressed so neat, 
"With ber tilting-hoops and pretty little feet, 

As she went skipping along. ...... 

Pretty little yaller gal I met while I was walking, : 

As she skipped across the gutter, my heart went in a flutter, 
For the yaller gal that winked at me. 

I immediately asked her name, 

And she said it was Lncinda 
She said I was a stunner, and for life that I had won her. 

And married we should be- 
So, Td dress np, and Td walk by her house, 

Every afternoon, about three, 
And Td glance up at the window for to see my dear Lncinda, 

She's the yaller gal that winked me. ■ 
Oh my 1 she looked, &c 

Oh ! you should hare seen her, on her wedding day— 
' She was handsome as a Venus— 

"When the Parson made us one, ah then ! the thing was done, 

And I neter felt so happy in my life. 
So, Ptc bought a little place out of town— . 

If yon go by, stop in and see — 
You'll be welcomed by a wife thafs as dear to mo as life, 

She's the yaller gal that winked at me. 

Oh my ! she looked, &c- 



PAT TVTATiTiOY. 



At sixteen years of age, I was my mother's fair-haired boy, 
She kept a little huxter shop, her name it "was Malloy, 
I've fourteen children, Pat, says she, -which heaven to me has 
sent ; 

Bnt ehilder aint like pigs, you knot? — they can't pay the rent ! 
She gave me every shilling there was in the till, 
And kissed me fifty times or more, as if she'd never get her fill 
Oh ! HeaVn bless you ! Pat, says she, and don't forget,my boy, 
That — Ould Ireland is your country, and your name is Pat 
Halloy! 

Oh ! England is a purty place— of goold there is no lack — 
I trudged from York to London wid me scythe upon me bock. 
The English girls are beautiful, their loves I don't decline, 
The eating and the drinking, too, is beautiful and fine ; 
But in a corner of me heart, which nobody can see, 
Two eyes of Irish blue are always peeping out at me 1 " 
O Molly darlin', never fear — I'm still your own dear boy — 
Ould Ireland is me Country, and me name is Pat Halloy. 

From Ireland to America, across the seas I roam — 
And every shilling that I got, ah ! sure I sent it home. 
Me mother couldn't write, but, oh ! there came from Father 
• - Boyee — 

Oh ! Heaven bless you ! Pat, says she — I hear me mother"* 
voice! _ ^ 

Bat, now, I'm going home again, as poor as I began. 
To make a happy girl of Moll, and sure I think I can — 
Me pockets they are empty, but me heart is filled wid joy ; 
For, Ould Ireland is me Country, and me name is Pat Halloy. 



RETURN OF PAT TKATJ.OY. 



41 



"When landed safe in Dublin-town, I met a castle-hack — 
The boots upon my feet he eyed, and the clothes upon my back. 
He says : You're from America, look bo neat and trim ; 
Just let me see your letters, Sir. 1 handed one to him. 
He says : It's from O'ilahony. And says I; yon funny elf, 
t's a letter for my own sweet Moll I'm taking home myself 
He says: Ton are a Fenian. Says I , You're right, old boy ; 
For, Ould Ireland io my country, and my name is Pat Jlolloy. , 

He had me then examined, and he says : My nice young man, 
What brought you home to Ireland ? "Was it the Fenian plan ? 
The ship it brought me home, says I, and Fenians all agree 
That from sweet Atblone to Blamey-Stone Ould Ireland shall 

be free;" - ■ . 

But was it not for Molly's eyes that's sticking in my heart, 
An me mother an the childer, too, oh, sure they had their part I 
HI take them to America, and then look out, my boy, 
For, Ould Ireland is my country, and my name is Pat Molloy, 

But when I met ray Molly dear, she kissed me o'er and o'er; 
She could not laugh for crying, as I gave her goold galore. 
-It's your own, my dearest Molly, for, 1 knew you would prove 
true ; 

Every pound I sent my mother, I put by two for you ; . 
And now you have the shiners, Moll, and will you take myself? 
She blushed and whispered: Yes, dear Pat, I'm yours, but not 

for pelf. . . 

We got my mother's blessing, and it filled my; heart with joy, , 
For Ould Ireland is my country and my name is Pat Malloy, 

Early the next morning, sure, we went to Father Boyce, 
That rib, says he, wid a wink at me, it is a purty choice. 
And mighty strong it is, says I, my heart, sure, knows it best. 
Three years or more, with thumps galore, she made it thrash 
my breast; 

33iese eyes are mighty killing, sir; but now they are my own, 
For four long years when far from home, they made me cry : 
och, hone ? 

And now I ask your blessing, sir, for to complete my joy. 
For, Ould Ireland is my country, and my name is Pat Malloy. 

Now my mother's in her rocking-chair, her childer pay the 
rint, 

n New-Yoxk. relieved from work, each hawov hour M spent ; 



PARODY ON PAT MALLOY. 



And, free from every toil and care, her heart ia light and free ; 
,6he sings a good old Irish song, -with young Pat onJier knee ; 
And Molly, lovely Molly, sure, he is her hearts delight, 
She sings, and talks, and plays nith him, both morning, noon 

and night, : 
And says : he's his daddy's picture, and she ealls him her darl- 
ing boy ; 

For, he was born in Ould Ireland, and hia name it is Malloy. 



PARODY ON PAT MALLOY. 



At sixty years of age, I was my mother's gray-hair boy, 
She kept a little peanut stand, her name it was Malloy. 
I've thirty children like you, Pat, that ain't worth a cent; 
They lie around like dirty pigs, and won't work to pay the 

■ rent. .. ■ . 
She gavo me every shilling there was in the tilL 
And all the pockets in me coat, wid pratees she did fill. 
" Oh, bless you, Pat," says she, " and don't forget, ould boy, 
That your father's name was Michael, while your namcisB 3 ' 
MaUoy." 

Oh ! Ensrland is a bully place, of stamps there is no lack, 
I broeued from Cork to London, wid a pig upon my back ; 
The English Molls are party gals, to marriage they decline, 
The grub and beer they give you there, is beautiful and fine ; 
But in the corner of me pocket, which nobody can sec, 
Two withered stamps, like fifties, are peeping out at me. 
Oh I Molly, darlin', never fear, I'm still your own dear boy, 
For m soon be back to Ireland, or mo name ain't Pat Malloy. 

Prom Ireland .to' America, across the seas I roam, -*" 

And all the money that I spend, ah I sure, I sent it home ; 

The spirit of an Emmett it thrilled me very heart, 

And for ould Ireland's freedom, '111 be siir^to take a part, 

But, as a Fenian soldier, 111 reach ould Ireland's shore. 

And wid that tie of Brotherhood, we'll 'strike for rights out« 

more • . - . . 

For, Erin, free from England's rule, will to the world give ]<>y» 
And to aU noblo Irishmen, as well as Pat Malloy. 



NOT TOR JOSEPH. 



Fve seen a bit of gaiety throughout my short career, 
I, once, was foolish with my tin, but I've paid most dear, 
If folks would seek to take me in, they find it is no go ; 
I'm up to almost every thing : You can't get over Joe. 

CHOItr/S. 

"3" Oh f dear, no ! not for Joe — if he knows it — not for Joseph. 
Oh ! no, no I not for Joe — not for Joseph — oh ! dear, no 1 

The other day, I mot a friend, we passed the time of day, 
And chatted gaily down Broadway : but ere I went away, 
I kindly asked the learned swell to take a parting drain, 
Oh ! yes, said he, I think I will : then let it be champagne. 

Spoken.— No, you don't, my dear fellow, - you don't get 
champagne out of Joseph. 

Oh ! dear, no, not ! &c 

Some time ago, a friend of mine, he asked me out to dine, 
And there he introduced me to one he called divine: 
He said she'd make a charming wife, and had such lots of tin : 
A widow only forty-two : go in, my boy, and win. 

*! Spoken. — Matrimony and lots of money, and a widow only 
forty-two — well, the money is very good, but then — the widow. 

Oh ! dear, no, not ! &c 

Of late, in town, there was a fuss about the J aps so grand : 
And, also, of the Russians who visited our land, 
And the country-companies we greeted with hearty cheers. 
We know they have been received well by the New York 
-Volunteers. ,. 

Spoken. — "What a glorious thing it is to fight and die for 
your country ! What can be more glorious than a bullet in 
your eye ? What can be more painful than a bullet in the 
eye ? Nothing I should think — 

Oh ! dear, no, not ' &o. 



And now, perhaps, IVe sung my song, you might be in the 



cue. 



To show you kind acknowledgement, but that with me won't 



do. 



As for to-ni=-bt I've done my best and that you ought to know: 
SJ, if you want a song again, don't try it on with Joe ! 

Oh ! dear, no, not T <Sr-a 



KITTY WELLS. 



You ask what makes this darkie weep, 

Why he like others am not gay, 
What causes the tear to flow down his cheek. 

From early morn till close of day. 
My story, darkies, you shall hear, 

3?or in my memory fresh it dwells, 
It -will cause you all to drop a tear 

On the grave of my sweet Kitty Wells. 

CHORUS. 

"""While the birds were singing in the morning, 
And the myrtle and the ivy were in bloom, 
And the sun on the hill was a dawning, 
It was then we laid her in the tomb. 



I never shall forget the day, 

That we together roamed the dells, 
I kissed her cheek, and named the day 

That I should marry Kitty Walls. 
But death came in my cabin door, 

And took from rao my joy and pride, 
And when I found she was no more, 

I laid my banjo down and cried. 

While the birds, Ssa. 



I often wish th.it I was de ad, 

And laid beside her in the tomb. 
The sorrow that bows down my head 

Is silentin the midnight gloom.. . . ■> , 
The spring time has no charm for me, 

Though flowers are blooming in the dells, 
Tor that bright form I do not tee, 

Tis the form of my sweet Kitty Well*. 

While the birds, &<•- 



15 

THE CHA RTnTWG YOUNG WIDOW 



I MET OS THE TRAIK. 

Whilst in New-Jersey, aletter was sent to me 
« From Boston, which bid me quickly repair 
To an uncle ; it stated : fast he was dying. 

The wish had expressed to make me hjs heir. 
So, hurriedly poking a f ;w things together, 

Wishing- that Boston quickly might gain, 
By a first-class express went ; in the same carriage, 

A charming young widow I met on the train. 

An infant sha had, so fondly caressing ; 

I ventured to ask, if that was her own ? 
She answered in words appearing' distressing — 

Tes; and its Papa is dead and gone ! 
When the question I asked, in my faco looking — 

That look I shall ne'er be forgetting again ! 
In fact, fast my heart to herself was hooking, 

"Was the charming- young widow I met on the train, 

As the train it was stopping, the engine to water, 

She asked in a harry — Would I bo so kind 
Her infant to take it, the darling so quiet ? 

Of course, I replied, I don't mind. 
To the refreshment room she went into 

The signal for starting I heard but in rain, 
Not a glimpse could I see of her; the train without started 

The eharmmg young widow I met on the train. 

Loud I was shouting, the train to be stopping, 

Out of the window putting- my bead ; 
No answer receiving, tho infant I took it, 

Discovered, O horror ! it was dead ! 
On its bosom was sewn a note — which on reading, 

Found I was taken in, done for, quite plain — 
It begged me bury tho child for the Bake of 

The charming young widow I met cm tho train. 

It was strange to myself that I was remarking 

How quiet a child, not bearing a sound — 
The sweet little creature asleep was, she told me J 

Quite dead «.«'..•• n — so, in truth I found. 
I took it, and buried tho poor little creatine. 

Its age or its name 1 couH :: ; -t c c lair, ; 
On a stone was ia«rib?>l_Cn.lern-. : . "i «< be-iueafhed tn» 

By s charming youug wiih>w I ; -. ; :<-. irr.ia. 



46 



LITTLE BABE-FOOT. 



Words and Music by Fraxk Howard. 

Son? by Miss Magcie Mitoheli. In the popular Drama of " Little Bare- 
Foot." 

Who has not -while traversing the crowded thoroughfares 
of our differen t cities, been saluted, by the subject of this song, 
■with the -well-known appeal of: Mister: Please give me a 
penny — for, I've not got any Pa — Please, Sir, give me just one 
penny, 1 -want to buy some bread for Ma. 

Standing -where the bleak -winds -whistled 

Round her small and fragile form, 
Arms within torn garments nestled, 
■ Standing there at night and morn ; 
Hundreds passing by unheeding, 

'Cept to jostle her aside. 
There, witli bare feet cold and bleeding, 

She, in tones of anguish, cried : 
Mister : Please give me a penny, 

For, Pve not got any Pa, 
Please, sir, give me just one penny, ( 

I -want io buy some bread for Ma ! 

CIIOIU7S. 

While to beg for those with plenty, 

And for them to us unknown, 
We'll not forget our little " barc-foots," 

They are HEATHENS nearer home. 

Hailing thus each passing stranger, 

As they hurriedly went by, 
Some -would turn and gaze upon her, 

Pity beamhisr from their eye ; , 
Others cast a frown upon her, 

Heeding not the plaintive cry: 
I must have some bread for Mother, 

Or with hunsrer she will die : 
Mistert Please give me a penny, 

1'or, Pve not got any Pa, 
Please, sir, give me just one penny, 

I want to buy some bread for Ma ! 

While we beg, &c 

Thire, one chilly day in Winter, 
TUiiE-Ffivr .-.:>t up>m the pave; 
' : - Out-srrofrh'd -were her littlff finger*, 

But no primes did she crave. 



DAISY DEANE. 



47 



: There, while begging bread for Mother, 

Death had chilled her little heart. 
Xet. each day, we see some other 

Playing Little Babe-foot's part : 
Ulster ; Plea e give me a penny , 

For, I've not got any Pa, 
Please, sir, give me jnst one penny, 

I want to buy some bread for Mi I 

"While we beg, &c 



DAISY DEANE. 

Twas down in the meadows, the violets were blowing, 
And the Spring-time grass was fresh and green ; 

And the birds, by the brooklet, their sweet songs were singing, 
When I first met my darling Daisy Deane. 

CHOBUS. 

None knew thee but to lore thee, thon dear one of my heart ; 

Oh ! thy memory is ever fresh and green ; 
Though" the sweet buds may wither, and fond hearta be broken, 

Still I love thee, my darling Daisy Deane. 

Her eyes soft and tender, the violats outvieing, 

And a fairer form was never seen ; 
With her brown silken tresses her cheeks like the roses, 

There was none like my darling- Daisy Deane. 

None knew thee bat, <tc. 



The briirht flowers are faded, the young grass has fallen, 

And a dark clond hovers o'er the scene ; 
For the death-angel took hf-r. and Mt me in sorrow 
For my lost one, my darling Daisy Deane. 
; , •'>-»-- None knew thee but, &c 

■Oh '. down in the meadows I still love to wander, 
1 Where the young grass grew so fresh and green : 
But the bria-ht golden visions of Spring-time have faded, 
With the Sowers, and my darling Daisy D-vane. 

None knew thee but, &e. 



CHAMPAGNE 



:, NO, 1. 



"vTords by Oeorge Letbourxs. Muaic by Alfbbd Lee. 

Txe seen a deal of gaiety throughout my noisy life, 
"With all my grand accomplishments, I ne'er could get a wife ; 
The thing I most excel in, is the P. R. J?. G. game, 
A noise all night, in bed all day, and swimming in Cham- 
pagne. 

CHORTJS. 

For Champagne Charlie is my name, 
Champagne Charlie is my name, 
Good for any £ame at night, my hoys, 
Good for any game at night, my boys, 
Champagne Charlie is my name, 
Champagne Charlie is my name, 
Good for any game at night, my boys, 
"Who'll come and join me in a spree ? 

The Tray I jrain'd my title, is hy a hobby which IVe got 
Of never letting others pay, however long the shot ; 
"Whoever drinks at my expense, are treated all the same, 
From Dukes and Lords, to cabmen down, I make them drink 
Champagne. 

For, Champagne Charlie is my name, &c 

From coffee and from supper-room, from Poplar to Pall-Ifall, 
The girls, on seeing me, exclaim: Oh! what a Champagne 
swell. 

The notion 'tis of ev'ry one, if, it were noi for my name, 
And causing so much to bo drunk, they'd never make Cham- 
pagne. 

For, Champagne Charlie is my name, &c 

Some Epicures like Burgundy, Hock, Claret and Jlosella 
But Moet's vintage, only, satisfies this Champagne swell 

What matter if to bod t go, and head is muddled thick ? 

A bottle, in the morning, sets me right then very quick. " *" 
For, Champagne Charlie is my name, &c 

Perhaps you fancy v,h:-t I sny is nothing: else but chaff. 
And only done, like other songs, to merely raise a laugh, 
To prove th;it ! am nut in jest, each man a bottle of Cham, 
111 stiai tux round— yt-s, that 1 will and stand it like a lamb. 

For, Champagne Charlie i? mv name, &c. 



CHAMPAGNE CHARLIE.— NO. 2. 



Some time a<ro, I had a beau, and Charlie was his name — 
A smart young fellow, fond of show, who wished my hand to 
claim ; 

Bat from my feet I spnrned this swell, as I will now explain — 
Although he loved ma very well, he better loved champagne 

Clio RCA 

Champagne (Thai lie, was his name, 
Champasrne Ch:»ri e f was his name, 
Always kicking up .» frightful noise, 
Always kicking np a irightfci noise. 
Champagne Charlie, was his name, 
Champagne Charlie, was his name, 
Kicking- np a row, at night, boys, 
Always ready for a spree. 

One moment still he couldn't rest, he passed whole nights and 
davs. 

In drinking Madame Clicquot's best, and smoking Henry Clays, 
And then when home to bed he'd £o, with wild disordered brain. 
He'd lay it to his studies, though I know it was champagne. 

Champagne Charlie was his name, &c. 

He promised me, of times a score, that he the pledge would 
take. 

Bat acted just like many more, and "goon his word did break. 
Tes. if for rave half-day complete, from drink he could abstain, 
He'd go and resolution treat to his revered champagne. 

Champagne Charlie was his name, &c. 

He was an artist, in his way, drew herons, cranea and utorlra— 
Yet for all that, he passed the day in simply drawing cork*. 
Though he bad a pnllttU for his paint*, to ore it bed not deign, 
Because he'd, Eke some other saints, a palate for tlumpagnt ! 

Champagne Charlie was his name, <£e. 

His cash did quickly disappear, which did not well unit me — 
Vor, champagne's dear, had he drank beer, things different now 
would be.* 

I might have beet. hi« slave for life, but cow 'tis all in vain, 
For, how can he require a wife, when verified to champagne? 
. , Champagne Charlie, was hi* name, &c 



ANNIE LISLE. 



Down where the -waving willows 

'Neath the sunbeams Smile ; 
Shadowed o'er the murm'ring waters, 

Dwelt sweet Annie Lisle ; . 
Pore aa the forest lily, 

Never thought of guile 
Had its home within the bosom, 
Of lovo d Annio Lisle 
cuoitus. 
Wavo willows, murmur water, 

Golden sunbeam smile — 
Earthly music cannot waken. 
Lovely Annio Lisle. 

Bweet came the hallowed chiming 

Of the Sabbath belL 
Borne on the morning breezes, 

Down the woody dell; 
On a bed of anguish — 

Lay dear Annio Lislo ; 
Changed were the lovely features, 

Gone the happy smile. [Wave willo-ws. See. 

Toll bells of Sabbath morning-, ' 

I shall never more, 
Hear your sweet and holy musi<^ 

On this earthly shore. 
2fonns clad in heavnly beauty, 

Look on mo and smile ; 
Waiting for the longing spirit, 

Of your Annie Lisle. [Wave willows. &c. 

Raise me iz yr>nr arms, dear motherf 

Let me onco more look 
On. the green and waving willows. 

And the flowing lirook— 
Hark, those strains of angel music, 

From the choir above ; 
Dearest Mother, I am goinc- 

Truly: « God is lore." -va willows, &c 



PRETTY LITTLE SARAH OR f 7 A WEEK. 



Hy heart ia like a pumkin, swollen big with love 

For one of the fairest girls in creation ; 
She is too good for me, though I am far above 

The drudgery and ill-paid of my station. 
Her father keeps a butcher-shop on the Harlem road ; 
For this little virgin, of love I've got a load, 
I've spent a fortune on her ; bat of that I only speak — 
For, what a fortune I must have on seven dollars a week I 

CHORES. 

Pretty little Sarah with the golden hair, 
Her beauty jealous maidens will be scorning : 

She ought to be an angel, and if only rich I were, 
I'd marry her bo early in the morning. 

The first time that I met her, 'twas in the pouring rain, 

I proffered her my arm and umbrella ; 
She looked with a smile ; I said Fd see her homa '. 

She thanked me with a voice so low and mellow. 
When we arrived at home, she said, she'd ask me in, 
Rat her parents they were poor. Said I, poverty's no sin. 
No doubt she thought me rich, but of course I didn't speak- 
For, I was doing my heavy on seven dollars a week. 

Pretty little Sarah, &c 

She's got a little ankle, .she's got a little foot, 

And pretty little fingers running taper ; 
Her waist is round and small, her mouth is best of all. 

With ruby lips not twice as thick as paper; 
She's always dressed ia silks, her notions they are high : 
Although her features small, her bearing's in the sky. 
When she belansrs to me, of course, I never speak 
What lots of silks she'll get from me on sewn dollars a week. 
• ■ Pretty little Sarah, &c 

yii:~ parents they are poor; but she's a milliner. 

And earns large wages fa the city: 
Some she gives her mother for her keep and board, 

The rest she spends on clothes to make her pretty. 
Xie never saves a cent, though to mo she rays *he will ; 
To par the expense of marriage is a etigar-coated pill ; 
And should we have a family— but too soon I must not »prak, 
A wife and fourteen children on seven dollars a wwk ! 

* Pretty little Sarah, *c. 



53 



TIM FINIGAN'S WAKE. 



Air The French Musician." 

Tim Finigan lived in Walker street, 

A gentleman Irishman — mighty odd — 
He'd a beautiful brogue, so rich and sweet — 

And to rise in the world, he carried the hod, 
Bat, you see he'd a sortof a tippling way, 
. With a love for the liquor poor Tim was born, 
To help him through his work each <lay, 
He'd a drop of the creatur' every morn'. 

CHORUS. 

Whack, hurrah ! blood and 'ounds ! ye soul, ye, 
Welt the flure, ye're trotters shake 

Isn't it the truth I've tould ye 1 
Lota of fun, at Finigan's wake 1 

One morning, Tim was rather fnJJ/, 

His head felt heavy, which made nim shake. 
He fell from the ladder, and broke his skull — 

So they carried him home, his corpse to wake. 
They rolled him lip in a nice clean sheet. 

And laid him out upon a bed. 
With fourteen candles round his feet, 

And a couplo of dozen around his head. 

Whack, hurrah 1 &C 

His friends assembled at the wake. 

Missus Finigan called out for the lunch. 
First, they lay in tay and cake ; 

Then pipes and tobacky, and whiskey- punch 
Miss Biddy O'Brien began to cry : 

Such a purty corpse did ever you see ? 
Arrah.1 Tim avourneen, an' why did ye die? 

Och, none of your gab, sez Judy Mngee. 

Whack, hurrah I &c. 

Then, Peggy O'Connor took tip the job : 

Arrah t Biddy, Bays she, you're wrong I'm sure. 
But Jusiy, then, gave her a belt on the gob, 

And left her sprawling on the fiure, 
Each side in war did soon engage, 

'Twas woman to woman and man to man ; 
Shillaleh-law was all the Tagc — 

An' a bloody ruction soon began. 

Whack, hurrah J 



THE WANDERING BKFUGEB. 



53 



Micky 3fulvaney raised hh head, 

"When a gallon of whiskr,- 3ow at him: 
It missed him — and, hopping on the bed 

The liquor scattered oyer Tim. 
Bedad I he revives ! see h jw he raises I 

An' Timothy, jumping iom the bed, 
Cries, -while he lathered around, liko blazes, 

Bad luck till yer soula I d'ye think I'm dead 1 

"Whack, hurrah J &c 



THE WANDERING REFUGEE. 

■Words and Muuio by Will, a ItiTS.' 

Farewell, Mother, home and friends \) 
"We may never meet again, 
Soon mid strangers I must roam, 
Oh ! the parting gives mo pain, 
Tho' I wander far away, 
Xonely o'er life's stormy sea, 
"Who Trill shed one gentle tear 
For a TTandering Refugee ? / 
W ho -will shed a gentle"te»r 
For a wand'ring Refugee P ' 

cnoucs. 

Mother, oh ! farewell ! 

I mast go, Fll think of theo : 

Oh! Mother, I must leave the* now, 

Tm a Wand'riag Refuges I 

Farewell, smray Southern home 1 
Homo I always loved so true, 
Oft will tear-drops dim mine eyes. 
When my memr'y flies to yoa ! 
Eat the !*: ly-py scenes of yore, 
I. alas ! will never see. 

HI be roaming far away, ; 
A lonely "VVand'rmg Itefuccc : 1 
111 be roaming far away, J 
A lon«Iy Wssd'ring Refugee i j 
Mother, oh I farewell 1 j 
■■ 

1 
• j 

I 



COTTAGE BY THE SEA. 



Childhood's days now pass before me, 

Forms and scenes of long ago ; 
Like a dream they hover o'er me, 

Calm and bright as evening's glow ; \! 
Days that knew no shade of sorrow, 

"When my young heart, pure and free. 
Joyful hailed each coming morrow, 

In the cottage by the sea. 

.. . CHORUS. 

In the cottage by tho boa, 
In tho cottage by the sea, 
Joyful hailed each coming morrow* 
In the cottago by the sea. 

Fancy sees the rose-trees twining 

Hound tho old and rustic door, 
And, below, tho white beach shining, 

"Whero I gathered shells, of yoro ; — 
Ilears my Mother's gentle warning, 

As she took me on her knee; 
And I feel again life's morning. 

In tho cottage by the sea. 

In the cottage, <£? 



What though years have rolled above me, 
.. Though 'mid fairer scenes I roam, 
Yet I ne'er shall cease to love thee. 

Childhood's dear and happy home I 
And when life's long day is closing, 

Oh ! how pleasant would it be, 
On some faithful breast reposing, 

In. tho cottago by tho sea I 

In th<3 cottajre, <fcn. 



PADDLE TOUR OWN CANOE, NO. X. 



I travell'd about a bit in my time. 

And of troubles I've seen a few, 
But found it better, in ev'ry clime, 

To paddle my own canoe. 
My -wants are small, I care not at all 



If my debts are paid when "due ; 
I drive away strife, in the ocean of life, 
While I paddle my own canoe. 



Then love your neighbor a» yourself, 

As the world you go travelling through, _ 
And never Bit down, with a tear or a frown, 
" ' But paddle your own canoe. 

I have no wife to bother my life, 

Nor loTer to prove untrue ; 
But the whole day long, with a laugh and a song 

I paddle my own eanoe. 
I rise with the lark, and from daylight till dark, 

I do what I have to do. 
I'm careless of wealth, if I've only the health 

To piddle my own canoe. 



It's all very well to depend on a friend, 
That is:" if you've proved him truo ; 

But youll find it better, by far in the end, . 
To paddle your own canoe. 

To BOKIiov," is dearer, by far, than to Buy, 
A maxim, tho' old, still true ; 

Ton never will sigh, if you only will try 

v To paddle your own canoe 



If ahnrricane rise, in tho mid-day sties, 

And the sua is lflrt to view, 
Move steadily by, with a steadfast cyo, 

And paddle your own canou. 
The daisies that etow in the bright green fields, 

Are bloominir so sweet for you. 
So, never git down, with a tear or a frown, 

But paddle your own Mooe. 



chorus. 



Then love your, &o. 



Then love your, &c 



Then love your, &c 



PADDLE YOUR OWN CANOE, NO. 2. 



Never give up, when trials come, 
Never grow sad and blue, ; . - 

Never sit down, with a tear and a frown, 
Butpaddle your own canoe. 

CUOKirs. 

Paddle your own canoe, . : . 

Paddle your own canoe, • 
Never sit down, with a tear and a frown, 
But paddle your own canoe. 
There are daisies springing along the shore, 

Sweet and blcomrng for you, 
There are rose-hued dyes in the Autumn skies, 
Then paddle your own canoe. 

Paddle your own, &c v 

Tip this world, and down this world, 

Over this -world and through, 
When drifted about and tossed without, " 

Why, paddle your own canoe. 

• - Paddle your own, &c 



KATHLEEN MAVOTHINEEN. 

Kathleen Mavourneen 1 the gray dawn is breaking, 

The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill, : 

The lark from her light wing the bright dew is shaking, 

Kathleen Mavourneen, what slomb'ring still ! 

Ah! hast thou forgotten soon: we must sever? 

Oh ! hast thou." forgotten this day ! we must part ! 

It may be for years, and it may be forever, 

Oh! why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart, 

CHORUS. 

And it may be for years, and it may be forever, 
Then why art thou silent, Kathleen Mavourneen. 

Kathleen Mavcmrneen ! awake from thy slumbers, 
The blue mountains glow in the sun's golden light, 
Ah ! where is the spell that once hung on my numbers, 
Arise in thy beauty, thou star of my night, 
Arise in thy beauty, thou star of my night. 
Mavourneen ! Mavourneen, my sad tears are falling" 
To think that from Erin and thee I must part, 
It may be for years and it may be forever. 
Then why art thou silent, .thou voice of my heart. 

It may be for years and it may be foreTer; 
Th*n -arhy art thou silent, Kathleen Mavourneen, 



DANDY PAT. 



Composed fcy Wiluak CiniETOX. 



Jir .■—■'Tommy Tayloi '' 



Oh ! Tm the boy called Dandy Pat, Dandy Pat; 
I -was bom in the town of Ballinaf at, 

I'm Pat the Dandy, O ! 
I courted one Miss Kate Holloy, Kate Molloy ; 
She sed : " I was the broth av a boy r 
Fm Dandy Pat, heigho! 
Tm Dandy Pat, ochone ! heigho ! 
From Mag-herafelt to Ballinafat, ' 
There's none comes np to Dandy Pat ! 



My leg and foot is nate and trim, nate and trim ; 
The prls all cry: " Jist loot athimT 

He's Pat the Dandy, O ! 
My stick is med av good blackthorn, 
Tm the funniest divil ivir wus born; 

I'm Dandy Pat, heigho, 

Tm Dandy Pat, heigho I. &c- [Repeat 



My coat is med av Irish frieze, Irish fneze ; 
The divil a one can take the prize 

From Dandy Pat, heigho > 
My hat is med av Irish felt. Irish felt- 
The hearts av all the girls I meit, 

I'm Pat the Dandy. O I 

Tm Dandy. 1'i.t, heigho ! &c [Repeat. 



I tni a walk to the Cinthral Park Cmthral Park; 
A nice yonnsrlady med the remark : 

« That's Tat the Dandy, O : 
She axed me home to take some tay, senna toy ; 
°ne sed : she'd nirir co away 

From DandT Fat. hwpio I 

j-rom Pat the Dandy, O I &c [ReptaL 



63 

THE MOTHER'S PRAYER. 



■VroriabyGEOEOi CoopEB. Mueioby J. B. Thomas. 

The Sun is drooping down the West, 
The little birds have gone to restv 
And little feet have weary grown, 
And mother watches all alone. 



While fondly bending o'er her child, 
To pleasant land of dreams beguiled, 
Oh, softly sweet is uttered there, 
In pleading words the mother's prayer": 

" Oh, sleep, my little darling, sleep 1 
While evening shadows o'er thee creep— 
For He who marks the sparrows flight 
Will keep my babe from harm to-night" 

How fondly 'mid her joys and fears, 
The mother waits the coming years, 
For little feet may go astray, 
And wander from the narrow way. 

That angel-hands may shield his life, 
Amid the never-ending strife, — 
That love may banish pain and care, 
Is all the mother's earnest prayer. , 

"Oh. sleep, my little darling, sleep 1 
While evening shadows round thee creep— 
For He who marks the sparrow's flight, 
Will keep my Uabo from harm to-night. 
Will keep my babe from harm, to-night-" 



TWENTY YEARS AGO. 



I have wandered by the village, Tom — I've sat beneath the tree, 
Upon the school-house playing-ground, -which sheltered you and 
me ; 

But none are left to greet me, Tom, and few are left to know 
That played with us upon the green, just Twenty Years Ago. 
The grass is just as green, dear Tom ; bare-footed boys at play 
Are sporting just as we were then, with spirits just as gay ; 
But master sleeps upon the hill, all coated o'er with snow, 
That afforded us a sliding-place, just Twenty Years Ago. 

The old school-house is altered some, the benches are replaced 
By new ones very like the same our pen-knives had defaced ; 
But the same old bricks are in the wall, the bell swings to and 
fro, 

The music just the same, dear Tom, 'twas Twenty Years Ago. 
The river is running just as still — the willows on its side 
Are larger than they were, dear Tom, the stream appears less 
wide; 

The grape-vine swing is ruined now, where onee we played the 
beau, 

And swung our sweet-hearts, pretty girls, just Twenty Years 
Ago. 

The spring that bubbled 'neath the hill, close by the spreading 
beech, 

Is very high — 'twas once so low that we could almost reach ; 
But in kneeling down to get a drink, dear Tom, I started so, 
To see how sadly I am changed since Twenty Years Ago. 
Down by the spring, upon an elm, you know I cut your name — 
Your sweet-hSart is just beneath it, Tom — and you did mine 
the same; 

Borne heartless wretch has peeled the bark — 'twas dying rare, 
but slow, 

J ust as the ona whose name you cut, did Twenty Years Ago. 

My lids have long been dry, dear Tom, but tears come in my 

eyes; 

I thought of her I loved so well — those early broTrcn ties; 
£ visited the old church-yard, and took some flowers to strew 
Upon the graves of those we loved, some Twenty Years Ago. 
Some are in the church-yard laid, some sleep beneath the sea; 
But few are left of our old class, excepting yon and me; 
Uut when our time shall come, dear Tom, and we are called to 

I hope they'll lay us wfccro we played, just Twenty Yeaxs Ago, 



MY FATHER SOTJLD CHARCOAL. 



"When I was a serrant in sweet Tipperary, oh 

I was as smart as theDivil, {/ 

Ami just K8 contrairy, oh 1 _ ' { 
An Irish Gossoon, . "Qy f <^ 

And great was th' applause of it : 4^ t 
My father sould chareoaL _ / \ t to 

And that was the cause of it. "•s. c«» , 



chorus. 



*1 



An Irish Gossoon, 
And great was th' applause of it, 
My father sould charcoal. 
And that was the cause of it 

A rmli, mv mother poor soul, had a hahit of drinting oh ! 
She fell in a ditch, 
Which set her to thinking oh I 
A mammoth Phratee, 
And great was the size of it, 
Mo mouth held a dozen, 
Which widened the breadth of it. 

An Irish Gossoon, &c. 

At a break-down or reel. It's highly and dutiful, 
And if to remember 
You need not staro at me, 
Sure I can wear my hrogans, 
Both behind and in front of me. 
My father sould charcoal, 
And that was the cause of it 

An Irish Gossoon, Sec 



And how docs yeas do, I see yeas all laugh at me, 
And what would yeas give, 

For a nice Photogragh of me, ...... 

And if to remember , ; 

You need not so stare at me. 
Sure Til frWe every mother's son of 
A lock of the hair of me. 



\ 

O 1 



t 

yeas, 



An Irish Gossoon, &c 



6J 

I'LL ASK MY MOTHER AND LET YOU KNOW. 

NEXT SUNDAY AOTEBXOOX. 

A pretty little girl came courting me, her name was Sarah 
Broome ; 

She wanted me to marry her, and thought I -was a loon, 
She said : " X was a nice young man, and -we might be -well off 
soon." 

Bat ni ask my mother and let you know next Sunday after- 
' noon. 

CHOECS. 

Tbe lindness of this pretty little girl I never can forget^ 
That wanted me to marry her, but I cannot see that yet 

One afternoon. Miss Sarah Broome took mo out for a walk, 

She kissed me and caressed me, and eo lovingly did talk, 

She wanted me to fly with her that night by the light of the 

moon, ' 
But 111 ask my mother and 111 let you know next Sunday 

afternoon. 

The kindness, &c 

She made mo a present of a watch and chain, likewise a bran 
new hat, 

For Sundays, when I walked with her, that t mifrht cut it fat, 
Bat when she fuund I would not fly with her, she wanted the 

presents hack, soon, 
But TT1 ask my mother and TO let you know next Sunday 

afternoon. 

The kiadnes*, &c 

Out of revenge, with one she knew, she ran away that ni^'ht. 
They both came back for the watch and chain, and wanted mo 
fcifiirht; 

He said : In a field !f he hid mo, that he wnuid kill me soon I 
But I'll ask my mother and I'll let you know next Sunday 
, afternoon. 

The kindness, &e. 

If there's any youn? girl, that's here to-night, would like to bo 

• • mr wife, 

let Ira step forward, snd 1*11 do the best fir her. through life; 
And if she's in a hurry, whv. wr might be married sown ; 
Uutril ask my mother and IU Ict 'ycu know next Sunday 
afternoon. 

The kindnua, <fco. 



62 



TOMMY DODD.* 



I lead" a some -what ea - sy life* Like most men 



a: 



dv-rv: 



-ft 



a - bout town, But still I must sub-mit to yon Tm 



E3 



some-what of re - nown; A spec 



tire turn of 



mind. It may eeem ra - ther odd, 



^ ts K 



hare & 'weak- ness, 
Chorus. 



and it is A love for "Tom -p— Dodd." Fm al-ways 

JV - 



mm 



1f — j p 



safe -when I be - gin Tom -my Dodd, Tom -my Dodd; 



MY BOYHOOD'S HOME. 



Ton'ra no idea tho ran of luci, 

"Which I haTe found the rale, 
Attends you if yon go in " hot," 

Of course remaining " coot" 
A purse is just in case of need, 

For you can ride rough shod, 
And lire like any fighting cock. 

If you're mo in "Tommy Dodd P. 

I'm always rare, &c 

A friend ox mine three daughter* had, 

He asked me home to tea, 
I play'd and Euntr when by and bye, 

They all spoon'd on to jne. 
I couldn't Oourt the lot you know. 

For that would eeem so odd, 
go I propos'd that they'd decide, 

By way at " Tommy Dodd T 

cnoncs to last terse. 

I'm always snro when I bejrin. Tommy Dodd, Tommy Doddl 
Glisses round or what you likp. Tommy Dodd. Tommy Doddl 
Have, mi boys, one more p> in. Tommy I>»Id. Tommy Dodd I 
Head or tail I'm sure to win, Hurrah for Tommy Dodd. 



MT B0TH0OD"S HOITE. 

My hoThood's homo 1 I see Ihy hilli— 
I Me tny ralleys chanpiful jrrcf-n. 
And manhcr-ls eye a U-ar-dr filK 
Tho' years haTO roll'd fcisce thee I've sees.. 

I crme to the*! from war '< drc-xd. nchnul, 
~:'A warrior ftera o'er the. r::!e ; _ 
But while I pszc on tic's kv'd j.l.iin, 
1 feel I am a boy again. 

T>- Oi •; w-oxteed adi'.n — to thn rrnmyiot farewt-tl — "\ 
To t!:e pt:n-.p of the T alsu-e — the it»u:S jriUc-1 dome; ' 
Tor tli» ;rreen scenr* of childhood. I lid to farewelll 
%he soldier returns to his buy h oc 1* bred boma. ; 

M j boyhood's home, Sxs. 



*. , . . > 

64,, X 

, Tm LONELY TO-NIGHT. * 
Words and Music by G. W. H. Gp.ipfe*. ff v 

I am lonely, to-night, in my sad littlo chamber, > 

While the stars sweetly shine upon all I hold dear : 
They are gone from their home with the bold fearless ranger, 

There's a void in my heart ; for, they are not here. 
Oh ! why did thin- leave me alone and "deserted. 

To risk their dear lives on the blood-sprinkled plain ! 
Should they never return, this poor heart trill soon wither, 

And never know joy or comfort again. 

CHOUUS. 

- . ' I am lonely to-night, I am lonely to-night, 

"While the stars sweetly shine upon all I hold dear i 
I am lonely, I am lonely to-night. 

I am lonely to-night, but ere Spring-birds shall warble 

Their matinal song in the wild forest-tree, 
And the bright limpid brook with sweet music shall babble 

My heart will grow lighter, while thinking of thee I 
Then fleet by dull hours, and bring back the loved ones, 

TVho parted from friends with a tear moistened eye ; 
" For, then, this sad heart will no longer bo lonely, 

But joyous and happy as tho mild azure sky., ,.-■>,-' 
. I am lonely, &c 



HOME SWEET HOME. 

ITid pleasures and palaces, though wo" may roam, 
Bo it ever so humble, there's no plaeo likehonie; v t 
A charm from the skies, seems to hallow us there, 
"Which, seek through tho world, is ne'er met with elswhere. 
Home, home, sweet, sweet home, • '"■ 
There's no place Uko home. Repeat. 
I gaze on the moon, as I trace the drear wild, - 
And feel that my parent now thinks- of her child ; , 
, bhe looks on that moon from her own cottage door, - 



Through woodbines whose fragrance shall cheer me nomora 
Home, home, sweet, sw«ethame, &e, 

from home, splendor dazzles in vain*> 
JjVS"p me my lowly, thatched cottage again; 
ilss birds singing mily that ci&io at mv^eall, V _ 
litre me them with the peace of mind, dearer than alL 
Home, home, sweet, sweet home, &c