Chapter II: Part 2

The spring that bubbled ’neath the hill, close by the spreading
beach,
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 sweetheart is just beneath it Tom--and you did mine the same,
Some heartless wretch has peel’d the bark--’twas dying sure but
slow,
Just as the one 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 broken ties;
I visited the old churchyard, and took some flowers to strew
Upon the graves of those we loved some Twenty Years Ago.

Some are in the churchyard laid, some sleep beneath the sea,
But few are left of our old class, excepting you and me:
But when our time shall come, dear Tom, and we are call’d to go,
I hope they’ll lay us were we play’d just Twenty Years Ago.

Star Spangled Banner. 43

Oh! say, can you see by the dawn’s early light,
What so proudly we hail’d at the twilight’s last gleaming;
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watch’d, were so gallantly streaming
And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there,
Oh! say, does the star-spangled banner still wave,
O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave?

On the shore, dimly seen through the mist of the deep,
Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that, which the breeze o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceal’d, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream;
’Tis the star-spangled banner, Oh! long may it wave,
O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

And where is the band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war, and the battle’s confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash’d out their foul footstep’s pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave,
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave;
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave,
O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

Oh! thus be it ever when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and war’s desolation;
Bless’d with victory and peace may the Heaven-rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto--“In God is our trust!”
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave,
O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

Song of the Sexton. 44

Oh, the sights that I see as I ply my lone trade,
In the moldering dust that a cent’ry hath made,
Where the coffin-worm doth creep.
I began long ago, when my life was still green,
And my mattock and spade have been active, I ween,
To fashion the grave so deep.
Ho! I laugh as I dig, for they all seek my aid,
To provide them a home with my mattock and spade.

The rich man hath pass’d me with towering head,
But I sang o’er his grave when the scorner was dead,
And laugh’d as I shovel’d the mold.
The hungry and wretched ne’er enter’d his door,
_His_ heart never bled for the wrongs of the poor,
For the proud man well loved his gold.
Ho! I laugh’d as I dug, for they wanted my aid,
To provide him a home with my mattock and spade.

I saw a young man in the fresh bloom of life,
As he came to the church with a trembling young wife,
Lift against me the finger of scorn.
Oh, the revel was joyous, the dance lasted long;
But the shriek of the widow soon banish’d the song--
The young man died ere the morn!
Ho! I laugh’d as I dug, when they came for my aid,
To provide him a home with my mattock and spade.

I saw a fair child bend her beautiful head,
And cull the lone flowers that bloom o’er the dead,
To form a pure simple wreath.
The crimson of hectic suffused her pale face;
In her eyes fearful lustre I trembled to trace,
The herald of early death.
But I pray that ere then, the deep home I have made,
May close over _me_, and my mattock and spade.

Uncle Sam’s Farm. 45

Copied by permission of RUSSELL & TOLMAN, 291 Washington St.,
Boston, owners of the copyright.

Of all the mighty nations, in the East or in the West,
Oh! this glorious Yankee nation is the greatest and the best.
We have room for all creation, and our banner is unfurl’d,
Here is a general invitation to the people of the world.

_Chorus._--Come along, come along--make no delay,
Come from every nation, come from every way;
Our land is broad enough--don’t be alarmed,
For Uncle Sam is rich enough to give us all a farm.

St. Lawrence marks our northern line, as fast her waters flow,
And the Rio Grande our southern bound, way down to Mexico;
From the great Atlantic ocean, where the sun begins to dawn,
Leaps across the Rocky Mountains, away to Oregon.

_Chorus._--Come along, come along, &c.

The South may raise the cotton, and the West the corn and pork,
New England manufactories shall do up the finer work;
For the deep and flowing waterfalls that course along our hills,
Are just the thing for washing sheep and driving cotton mills.

_Chorus._--Come along, come along, &c.

Our fathers gave us liberty, but little did they dream,
The grand results that flow along this mighty age of steam;
For our mountains, lakes, and rivers are all a blaze of fire,
And we send our news by lightning on the telegraphic wire.

_Chorus._--Come along, come along, &c.

Yes, we are bound to beat the nations, for our motto’s go-ahead,
And we’ll tell the foreign paupers that our people are well-fed;
For the nations must remember that Uncle Sam is not a fool,
For the people do the voting, and the children go to school.

_Chorus._--Come along, come along, &c.

Wait for the Wagon. 46

Will you come with me, my Phillis, dear, to yon blue mountain free,
Where the blossoms smell the sweetest, come rove along with me.
It’s every Sunday morning, when I am by your side,
We’ll jump into the wagon, and all take a ride.

CHORUS.--Wait for the wagon,
Wait for the wagon,
Wait for the wagon,
And we’ll all take a ride.

Where the river runs like silver, and the birds they sing so sweet,
I have a cabin, Phillis, and something good to eat.
Come listen to my story, it will relieve my heart,
So jump into the wagon, and off we will start.

Wait for the wagon, &c.

Do you believe, my Phillis, dear, old Mike with all his wealth,
Can make you half so happy, as I with youth and health?
We’ll have a little farm, a horse, a pig, and cow,
And you will mind the dairy, while I do guide the plow.

Wait for the wagon, &c.

Your lips are red as poppies, your hair so slick and neat,
All braided up with dahlias, and hollyhocks so sweet,
It’s every Sunday morning, when I am by your side,
We’ll jump into the wagon, and all take a ride.

Wait for the wagon, &c.

Together on life’s journey, we’ll travel till we stop,
And if we have no trouble, we’ll reach the happy top.
Then come with me, sweet Phillis, my dear, my lovely bride,
We’ll jump into the wagon, and all take a ride.

Wait for the wagon, &c.

The Old Farm-House. 47

Oh, the old farm-house, down beside the valley stream,
Where in childhood so oft I have play’d,
Ere sorrow had clouded my heart’s early dream,
Or life’s purest joys had decay’d;
How well I remember the vine-cover’d roof,
And the rose-bushes clustering nigh,
And the tall, stately poplar-trees standing aloof,
Whose tops seem’d to reach to the sky,
Oh! the old farm-house, my childhood’s happy home.

Oh, the old farm-house, how I’ve sported round its hearth
With my sisters and brothers so dear;
How oft has it rung with our innocent mirth,
And hallow’d our soft evening-prayer;
But the old farm-house now is bowing to decay,
Its stones like dead friends lie apart;
But its dear, cherish’d image shall ne’er fade away
From affection’s domain in my heart.
Oh! the old farm-house, my childhood’s happy home.

The Sword of Bunker Hill. 48

Copied by permission of RUSSELL & TOLMAN, 291 Washington St.,
Boston, owners of the copyright.

He lay upon his dying bed,
His eye was growing dim,
When with a feeble voice he call’d,
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.”
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 grasp’d the ancient blade,
He murmur’d 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.
I leave you, mark me, mark me, now,
The sword of Bunker Hill.

“Twas on that dread, immortal day,
I dared the Briton’s band,
A captain raised this blade on me,
I tore it from his hand;
And while the glorious battle raged,
It lighten’d freedom’s will,
For, boy, the God of Freedom bless’d
The sword of Bunker Hill.
For, boy, the God of Freedom bless’d
The sword of Bunker Hill.

“Oh! keep the sword,” his accents broke,
A smile, and he was dead;
But his wrinkled hand still grasp’d the blade,
Upon that dying bed.
The son remains, the sword remains,
Its glory growing still,
And twenty millions bless the sire
And sword of Bunker Hill.
And twenty millions bless the sire
And sword of Bunker Hill.

A National Song. 49

God of the Free! to thee we look,
As look’d our sires in days of old,
When on thy breath invoked by prayer,
Their banner for the Right unroll’d.

That glorious banner still is ours;
Our falchions like their own shall start,
When Freedom’s sent’nel-trumpet calls,
To find the impious tyrant’s heart.

Their sacred homesteads still we own,
And still the wave of Plymouth rolls
The hymn of Justice, Labor, Right,
And blest Religion in our souls.

Their mighty mission was not left
By them in vain for us, for we,
Heirs of a continent, are yet
Subduing mountain, vale, and sea.

How proudly on our march we go,
With Washington’s own flag unfurl’d;
The blood of all the world is here,
And he who strikes us, strikes the world!

Then wave thine oaken bough, O North!
O South! exulting lift thy palms;
And in our Union’s heritage
Together sing the Nation’s psalms.

Belle Brandon. 50

’Neath a tree by the margin of a woodland,
Whose spreading leafy boughs sweep the ground,
With a path leading thither o’er the prairie,
Where silence hung her night garb around;
Where oft I have wander’d in the evening,
When the summer winds were fragrant on the lea,
There I saw the little beauty Belle Brandon,
And we met ’neath the old arbor tree.

REPEAT.

There I saw the little beauty, Belle Brandon,
And we met ’neath the old arbor tree.

Belle Brandon was a birdling of the mountain,
In freedom she sported on the lea,
And they said the life current of the red man
Tinged her veins, from a far distant sea.
And she loved her humble dwelling on the prairie,
And her guileless happy heart clung to me,
And I loved the little beauty, Belle Brandon,
And we both loved the old arbor tree.

REPEAT.--And I loved the little beauty, &c.

On the trunk of an aged tree I carved them,
And our names on the sturdy oak remain,
But I now repair in sorrow to its shelter,
And murmur to the wild winds my pain.
And I sat there in solitude repining,
For the beauty dream night brought to me,
Death has wed the little beauty, Belle Brandon,
And she sleeps ’neath the old arbor tree.

REPEAT.--Death has wed the little beauty, &c.

The Dying Californian. 51

Lay up nearer, brother, nearer, for my limbs are growing cold,
And thy presence seemeth dearer when thy arms around me fold
I am dying, brother, dying, soon you’ll miss me in your berth,
And my form will soon be lying ’neath the ocean’s briny surf.

Hearken to me, brother, hearken, I have something I would say,
Ere this vail my vision darken, and I go from hence away;
I am going, surely going, but my hopes in God are strong,
I am willing, brother, knowing that He doeth nothing wrong.

Tell my father when you greet him, that in death I pray’d for him,
Pray’d that I might one day meet him, in a world that’s free from
sin;
Tell my mother, God assist her, now that she is growing old,
Tell, her son would glad have kiss’d her, when his lips grew pale
and cold.

Hearken to me--catch each whisper, ’tis my wife I speak of now.
Tell, oh, tell her, how I miss’d her, when the fever burnt my brow:
Hearken to me, closely listen, don’t forget a single word,
That in death my eyes did glisten when the tears her memory stirr’d.

Tell her then to kiss my children, like the kiss I last impress’d,
Hold them fast as last I held them, fold’d closely to my breast;
Give them early to their Maker, putting all their trust in God,
And He will never forsake her--He has said so in His word.

O my childern, Heaven bless them! they were all my life to me;
Would I could once more caress them, ere I sink beneath the sea;
’Twas for them I cross’d the ocean--what my hopes were I’ll not
tell,
But they have gain’d an orphan’s portion--yet He doeth all things
well.

Tell my sisters I remember every kindly parting word,
And my heart has been kept tender by the thoughts their memory
stirr’d;
Tell them I never reach’d the haven where I sought the precious
dust,
But I’ve gain’d a port call’d heaven, where the gold doth never
rust.

Urge them to secure an entrance, for they will find their brother
there,
Faith in Jesus and repentance will secure for them a share;
Hark! I hear my Saviour calling--’tis I know his voice so well,
When I’m gone, oh, don’t be weeping, brother, hear my last farewell!

I want to go Home. 52

I want to go home,
For never a place did I see,
Wherever I roam, far away and alone,
So dear as my own Tennessee.
But now I am far away,
To my home I must go soon,
I want to go back to hunt for the deer track,
And watch for the possum and coon.

CHORUS.

I want to go home,
For never a place did I see,
Wherever I roam far away and alone,
So dear as my own Tennessee.

I want to go where
The sugar cane’s growing so green,
For many a day have I wandered away,
To watch the old mill by the stream.
And when the night had come,
And the darkey’s work was done,
We’ve gathered around, for a dance on the green
By the sound of the old Tamborine.

But now I am far away,
And lonely and sad is my lot,
I never can rest till my journey is past,
And I again seek my old cot.
From my childhood’s happy home,
I never more will roam.
I will take by my side, my young Tennessee bride
And live ever happy at home.

Bold Privateer. 53

It’s oh! my dearest Polly, you and I must part,
I am going across the seas, love, I give to you my heart,
My ship she lies in waiting, so fare thee well, my dear,
I am just a going on board of the Bold Privateer.

But oh, my dearest Johnny, great dangers have been cross’d,
And many a sweet life by the seas has been lost;
You had better stop at home with the girl that loves you dear,
Than to venture your life on the Bold Privateer.

When the wars are over, may heaven spare my life,
Then soon I will come back to my sweet, loving wife.
Then soon I will get married to charming Polly dear,
And forever bid adieu to the Bold Privateer.

Oh! my dearest Polly, your friends do me dislike,
Besides you have two brothers who’d quickly take my life.
Come, change your ring with me, my dear, come change your ring
with me,
And that shall be our token when I am on the sea.

Heather Dale. 54

In a peaceful little valley,
Where the violets grow,
There I used to wander daily,
Watching at the brooklet’s flow;
Not a spot I loved so dearly
As this fragrant vale,
And I never shall forget it,
Lovely little Heather Dale!

_Chorus._--Oh, how I always loved to,
With my sister Nell,
Roam in days of youthful pleasure
In that little Heather Dale.

There I’ve heard the little songsters
Sing their songs of glee,
Skipping from the waving tree-tops,
’Twas a lovely sight to me;
Fragrance from the little flowers
Fill’d each gentle gale,
As they in their course came playing
Through the little Heather Dale.

_Chorus._--Oh, how I always loved to, &c.

Now those childhood’s days have fleeted,
And no more I’ll roam,
In that quiet little valley
Near my old sequester’d home;
But I always shall remember
Where I used to trail,
Through that lone and silent valley,
My own little Heather Dale.

_Chorus._--Oh, how I always loved to &c.

The Marseilles Hymn. 55

Ye sons of Freedom, awake to glory!
Hark! hark! what myriads bid you rise?
Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary,
Behold their tears and hear their cries.
Shall hateful tyrants, mischiefs breeding,
With hireling hosts, a ruffian band,
Affright and desolate the land,
While peace and liberty lie bleeding?
To arms! to arms! ye brave!
The avenging sword unsheath:
March on! march on! all hearts resolved
On victory or death.

Now, now, the dangerous storm is rolling,
Which treacherous kings confederate raise;
The dogs of war, let loose, are howling,
And lo! our fields and cities blaze;
And shall we basely view the ruin,
While lawless force, with guilty stride,
Spreads desolation far and wide,
With crimes and blood his hands embruing?
To arms! to arms! ye brave, &c.

With luxury and pride surrounded,
The vile, insatiate despots dare,
(Their thirst of power and gold unbounded),
To mete and vend the light and air.
Like beasts of burden would they load us,
Like gods would bid their slaves adore
But man is man, and who is more?
Then shall they longer lash and goad us?
To arms! to arms! ye brave, &c.

O Liberty! can man resign thee,
Once having felt thy generous flame?
Can dungeons, bolts, or bars confine thee?
Or whips thy noble spirit tame?
Too long the world has wept, bewailing
That falsehood’s dagger tyrants wield,
But freedom is our sword and shield,
And all their arts are unavailing.
To arms! to arms! ye brave, &c.

Twinkling Stars. 56

Twinkling stars are laughing, love,
Laughing on you and me,
While your bright eyes look in mine,
Peeping stars they seem to be;
Troubles come and go, love,
Brightest scenes must leave our sight,
But the star of hope, love,
Shines with radiant beams to-night.

CHORUS.

Twinkling stars are laughing, love,
Laughing on you and me,
While your bright eyes look in mine,
Peeping stars they seem to be.

Golden beams are shining, love,
Shining on you to bless,
Like the queen of night, you fill
Darkest space with loveliness.
Silver stars how bright, love,
Mother moon in thronely might,
Gaze on us to bless, love,
Purest vows here made to-night.

CHORUS.--Twinkling stars, &c.

Shells of the Ocean. 57

One summer eve, with pensive thought,
I wandered on the sea-beat shore,
Where oft, in heedless infant sport,
I gathered shells in days before.
I gathered shells, &c.

The plashing waves, like music fell,
Responsive to my fancy wild,
A dream came o’er me like a spell,
I thought I was again a child.
A dream came o’er me like a spell,
A dream came o’er me like a spell,
I thought I was again a child.

I stooped upon the pebbly strand,
To cull the toys that ’round me lay,
But as I took them in my hand,
I threw them one by one away.
I threw them, &c.

“Oh, thus,” I said, “in every stage,
By toys our fancy is beguiled,
We gather shells from youth to age,
And then we leave them like a child.”
We gathere shells, &c.

Old Dog Tray. 58

Copied by permission of FIRTH, POND & CO., 547 Broadway,
owners of the copyright.

The morn of life is past, and evening comes at last,
It brings me a dream of a once happy day,
Of many forms I’ve seen, upon the village green,
Sporting with my old Dog Tray.

CHORUS.

Old Dog Tray’s ever faithful,
Grief can not drive him away
He’s gentle, he is kind, I’ll never, never find,
A better friend than old Dog Tray,

The forms I call’d my own, have vanish’d one by one,
The loved ones, the dear ones, have all pass’d away;
Their happy smiles have flown, their gentle voices gone,
I have nothing left but old Dog Tray.

Old Dog Tray’s ever faithful,
Grief can never drive him away,
He’s gentle, he is kind; I’ll never, never find,
A better friend than old Dog Tray.

When thoughts recall the past, his eyes are on me cast,
I know that he feels what my breaking heart would say,
Although he can not speak, I’ll vainly, vainly seek,
A better friend than old Dog Tray.

Old Dog Tray’s ever faithful,
Grief can not drive him away,
He’s gentle, he is kind; I’ll never, never find.
A better friend than old Dog Tray.

Red, White, and Blue. 59

Oh Columbia, the gem of the ocean,
The home of the brave and the free,
The shrine of each patriot’s devotion,
A world offers homage to thee.
Thy mandates make heroes assemble,
When liberty’s form stands in view,
Thy banners make tyranny tremble,
When borne by the red, white, and blue.
When borne by the red, white, and blue,
When borne by the red, white, and blue,
Thy banners make tyranny tremble,
When borne by the red, white, and blue.

When war waged its wide desolation,
And threaten’d our land to deform,
The ark then of freedom’s foundation,
Columbia rode safe through the storm.
With her garland of victory o’er her,
When so proudly she bore her bold crew,
With her flag proudly floating before her,
The boast of the red, white, and blue.
The boast of, &c.

The wine cup, the wine cup bring hither,
And fill you it up to the brim,
May the wreath they have won never wither
Nor the star of their glory grow dim,
May the service united ne’er sever,
And hold to their colors so true,
The army and navy forever,
Three cheers for the red, white, and blue.
Three cheers for, &c.

The Rock of Liberty. 60

Copied by permission of RUSSELL & TOLMAN, 291 Washington St.,
Boston, owners of the copyright.

Oh! the firm old rock, the wave-worn rock,
That braved the blast and the billow’s shock;
It was born with time on a barren shore,
And it laugh’d with scorn at the ocean’s roar.
’Twas here that first the Pilgrim band,
Came weary up to the foaming strand;
And the tree they rear’d in the days gone by,
It lives, it lives, it lives, and ne’er shall die.

Thou stern old rock in the ages past,
Thy brow was bleach’d by the warring blast;
But thy wintry toil with the wave is o’er,
And the billows beat thy base no more.
Yet countless as thy sands, old rock,
Are the hardy sons of the Pilgrim stock;
And the tree they rear’d in the days gone by,
It lives, it lives, it lives, and ne’er shall die.

Then rest, old rock, on the sea-beat shore,
Our sires are lull’d by the breaker’s roar;
’Twas here that first their hymns were heard
O’er the startled cry of the ocean bird.
’Twas here they lived, ’twas here they died,
Their forms repose on the green hill-side;
And the tree they rear’d in the days gone by,
It lives, it lives, it lives, and ne’er shall die.

Our Mary Ann. 61

Oh, fare you well, my own Mary Ann,
Fare you well for a while;
The ship is ready, and the wind is fair,
And I am bound for the sea, Mary Ann.

Oh, didn’t you see your _turtile_ dove,
A sittin’ on yonder pile,
Lamenting the loss of his own true love,
And so am I for my Mary Ann.

Oh, fare you well, &c.

A lobster in a lobster pot,
A blue fish in a brook,
May suffer some--but you know not,
What I do feel for my Mary Ann.

Oh, fare you well, &c.

The pride of all the produce ground,
The dinner kitchen-garden fruit,
Is _pnmpkins_ some, but can’t compare,
The love I bear for my Mary Ann.

Oh, fare you well, &c.

Evening Star. 62

Beautiful star in heaven so bright,
Softly falls thy silver light,
As thou movest from earth afar,
Star of the evening--beautiful star.
Beautiful star, beautiful star,
Star of the evening,
Beautiful, beautiful star.

In fancy’s eyes thou seemst to say,
Follow me, come from earth away;
Upward they spirit’s pinions try,
To realms of love beyond the sky.
Beautiful star, &c.

Shine on! O star of love divine,
And may our souls around thee twine,
As thou movest from earth afar,
Star of the twilight--beautiful star.
Beautiful star, &c.

The Age of Progress. 63

The age of giant progress,
Americans all hail!
The land, all interwoven
With telegraph and rail;
No sluggish chains shall bind us,
No tardiness delay;
The morning light is breaking (waking)
O’er our destiny.

The age of trained lightning,
“Dispatching” human thought;
What wondrous revolution
The scheme of Morse hath wrought!
No time, no space can hinder
The quick, electric fire;
Intelligence is flashing (dashing)
O’er the magic wire.

The age of grand conceptions,
The “cable of the deep!”
It “snapp’d,” but we will mend it,
We have no time to weep.
The great Pacific Railroad!
’Twill not be long before
The railroad cars are flying (hieing)
From the golden shore.

The age of priceless knowledge,
The scholar’s jubilee!
The land all dotted over
With institutions free.
Our public schools! Oh, hail them!
They offer treasures cheap:
The boys and girls are scaling (hailing)
Science’s rugged steep.

Glad to Get Home. 64

Copied by permission of RUSSELL & TOLMAN, 291 Washington St.,
Boston, owners of the copyright.

Oh, how glad to get home,
For far I’ve wander’d,
Joyful, joyful I come,
Dear home, to thee!
Fond ones welcome me here,
Loved ones are near me;
Voices float on my ear,
Sweet, sweet to me.

CHORUS.

Dear friends that are round me, haste with looks delighted,
Days long vanish’d and gone, come to my heart.
Dear home of my childhood, once again united,
Never, never again from thee I’ll part.

Father, in the warm grasp
I feel thy welcome,
Oh, from love’s tender clasp
Ne’er let me fly;
Mother, fondly again
Thou dost enfold me;
Tears I can not restrain
Burst from mine eye.

_Chorus._--Dear friends that are round me, &c.

Brother, still is thy brow
Noble as ever,
As I look on thee now,
How swells my heart!
Sister, gentle and kind,
Close to me clinging;
Now in love we are twined
No more to part.

_Chorus._--Dear friends that are round me, &c.

Blind Orphan Boy’s Lament. 65

“They tell me that my mother’s sleeping
In the church-yard far away,
That she knows not I am weeping--
Weeping all the live long day.

“They tell me that my father’s lying
In the dark grave by her side;
That I’m left on life’s rough billow
With no earthly friend or guide.

“When the wild woods echo loudly,
And the merry songsters sing,
When the winds are hurrying past me
With sweet music on their wings,

“Methinks I hear my mother calling,
And her grave I long to find;
But there’s no one here to lead me,
For the orphan boy is blind.”

He now sleeps within that church-yard
Where he ofttimes long’d to be;
Angels bore his soul to heaven,
Now the poor blind boy can see.

The Lake-Side Shore. 66

Summer’s breath is lightly falling
On the silent waters blue,
And the moonbeams bright are sporting
With the drops of glittering dew;
Hark! away upon the waters
There’s a sound of dipping oar,
And a boat-song loudly chanted,
Echoes down the lake-side shore.

Now the night-bird’s song comes floating
Sweetly down the midnight air,
Waking all the depths, to listen
To the birds that thus should dare
To break the weird and solemn stillness,
That had reign’d so long before,
In the wood, and mead, and valley,
On the silent lake-side shore.

Now the song comes swelling bolder,
And the boatman’s chant is heard,
Louder o’er the distant waters,
As it would outvie the bird;
But each song at last is finish’d,
And the bird to rest once more,
Leaves no sound to break the quiet
Of the happy lake-side shore.

Who can say there is no pleasure
Thus to walk the night alone,
Listening to the night-bird’s music,
Or the boatman’s solemn tone?
Where is there a spot more lovely,
Where the vail of night hangs o’er?
Where another place more lovely
Than this silent lake-side shore?

The Tempest. 67

We were crowded in the cabin,
Not a soul would dare to sleep,
It was midnight on the waters,
And the storm was o’er the deep
’Tis a fearful thing in winter
To be shatter’d by the blast,
And to hear the trumpet thunder,
“Cut away the mast!”

We shudder’d there in silence,
For the stoutest held his breath,
While the hungry sea was roaring,
And the breakers talk’d with death;
Sad thus we sat in silence,
All busy with our prayers,
“We’re lost!” the captain shouted,
As he stagger’d down the stairs.

But his little daughter whisper’d.
As she took the icy hand,
“Is not God upon the waters,
Just the same as on the land?”
Then we kiss’d the little maiden,
And we spake of better cheer,
As we anchor’d safe in harbor,
Where the sun was shining clear.

_Chorus._--And a shout rose loud and joyous,
As we grasp’d the friendly hand,
God is on the waters,
Just the same as on the land.

E Pluribus Unum. 68

Copied by permission of PETERS & SONS, Fourth St. Cincinnati O
owners of the Copyright.

Though many and bright are the stars that appear
In the flag of our country unfurl’d;
And the stripes that are swelling in majesty there,
Like a rainbow adorning the world;
Their lights are unsullied as those in the sky,
By a deed that our fathers have done,
And they’re leagued in as true and as holy a tie,
In their motto of “Many in one.”

From the hour when those patriots fearlessly flung
That banner of star-light abroad,
Ever true to themselves, to that motto they clung
As they clung to the promise of God;
By the bayonet traced at the midnight of war,
On the fields where our glory was won,
Oh! perish the hand, or the heart that would mar
Our motto of “Many in one.”

’Mid the smoke of the contest, the cannon’s deep roar.
How oft it hath gather’d renown;
While those stars were reflected in rivers of gore,
When the cross and the lion went down.
And though few were their lights in the gloom of that hour,
Yet the hearts that were striking below,
Had God for their bulwark, and truth for their power,
And they stopp’d not to number the foe.

We are many in one where there glitters a star
In the blue of the heavens above,
And tyrants shall quail ’mid their dungeons afar,
When they gaze on our motto of love.
It shall gleam o’er the sea ’mid the bolts of the storm,
O’er the tempest, and battle, and wreck,
And flame where our guns with their thunder grow warm,
’Neath the blood on the slippery deck.

Then up with our flag, let it stream on the air,
Though our fathers are cold in their graves;
They had hands that could strike, they had souls that
could dare,
And their sons were not born to be slaves.
Up, up with our banner where’er it may call,
Our millions shall rally around,
A nation of freemen that moment shall fall,
When its stars shall be trail’d on the ground.

A Good Time Coming. 69

There is a good time coming, boys,
A good time coming;
There’s a good time coming, boys,
Wait a little longer;
We may not live to see the day,
But earth shall glisten in the ray
Of the good time coming;
Cannon-balls may aid the truth,
But thought’s a weapon stronger;
We’ll win our battles by its aid,
Wait a little longer.
There’s a good time coming, boys,
A good time coming,
There’s a good time coming, boys.
Wait a little longer.

There’s a good time coming, boys,
A good time coming;
There’s a good time coming, boys,
Wait a little longer;
The pen shall supersede the sword,
And right, not might, shall be the lord,
In the good time comidg;
Worth, not birth, shall rule mankind,
And be acknowledged stronger,
The proper impulse has been given,
Wait a little longer.
There’s a good time coming, boys,
A good time coming,
There’s a good time coming, boys,
Wait a little longer.

The Hills of New England. 70

The hills of New England, how proudly they rise,
In their wildness of grandeur to blend with the skies,
With their far azure outline, and tall, ancient trees,
New England, my country, I love thee for these.

The vales of New England, that cradle her streams,
And smile in their beauty like land in our dreams;
All sunny with beauty, embosom’d in ease.
New England, my country, I love thee for these.

The woods of New England, still verdant and high,
Though rock’d by the tempest of ages gone by;
Romance dims their arches, and speaks in the breeze,
New England, my country, I love thee for these.

The streams of New England, that roar as they go,
Or seem in their wildness but dreaming to flow;
Oh! bright gilds the sunbeam their march to the seas,
New England, my country, I love thee for these.

The homes of New England, free, fortuned, and fair;
Oh, many a heart treasures its seraphim there,
E’en more than thy mountains or streamlets they please,
New England, my country, I love thee for these.

God shield thee, New England, dear land of my birth,
And thy children that wander afar on the earth;
Thou still art my country, where’er I am cast,--
Take thou to thy bosom my ashes at last.

The Old Folks we Loved Long Ago. 71

Battling with life,
’Mid care and strife,
The daily toils in hope I undergo;
Yet mem’ry will wander,
Fonder oh, fonder,
To the dear old folks I loved long ago.

Long years have gone
Since in the morn
Of life I heard the river’s gentle flow;
And oft mem’ry lingers,
As point time’s fingers,
To the dear old folks I loved long ago.

Dell, hill, and tree,
Flower, bird, and bee,
All as of yore, make music sweet and low,
And, though on earth riven,
I hope to meet in heaven
The dear old folks I loved long ago.

Then up, my soul,
Strive for the goal,
Oh, linger not to weep and wail in woe;
For far in yon azure blue
Methinks I yet may know
The dear old folks I loved long ago.

CONTENTS

OF

Beadle’s Dime Song Book,

NO. 2.

Alice Gray,
America,
Banks of the Old Mohawk
Be Kind to Each Other,
Billy Grimes the Rover,
Bryan O’Lynn,
Come Sit Thee Down,
Cora Lee,
Crazy Jane,
Darling Nelly Moore,
Darling Old Stick,
Fireman’s Victory,
Good News from Home,
Good-Night,
Grave of Lilly Dale,
Graves of a Household,
Home, Sweet Home,
I have no Mother Now,
I’m leaving Thee in Sorrow, Annie,
I miss Thee so,
I Shouldn’t like to Tell,
I Wandered by the Brook-Side,
Katy Darling,
Kathleen Mavourneen,
Little Katy; or, Hot Corn,
Mary of the Wild Moor,
Mable Clare,
Mary Alleen,
Mill May,
Minnie Moore,
Minnie Dear,
Mrs. Lofty and I,
Mr. Finagan,
My Eye and Betty Martin,
My Love is a Saileur Boy,
My Mother Dear,
My Grandmother’s Advice,
My Mother’s Bible,
New England,
Oh! I’m Going Home,
Oh! Scorn not thy Brother,
O! the Sea, the Sea,
Old Sideling Hill,
Our Boyhood Days,
Our Father Land,
Peter Gray,
Rory O’More,
Somebody’s waiting for Somebody,
The Farmer Sat in his Easy Chair,
The Farmer’s Boy,
The Irishman’s Shanty,
The Old Folks are Gone,
The Post-Boy’s Song,
The Quilting Party,
Three Bells,
’Tis Home where the Heart is,
Waiting for the May,
We Stand Here United,
What other Name than Thine, Mother?
Where the Bright Waves are Dashing,
What is Home without a Mother,
Widow Machree,
Willie’s on the Dark Blue Sea,
Winter-Sleigh-Bell Song,
Nancy Bell; or, Old Pine Tree.

CONTENTS

OF

Beadle’s Dime Song Book,

NO. 3.

Annie, Dear, Good-by,
A Sailor’s Life for Me,
Bessy was a Sailor’s Bride,
Bonny Jean,
Comic Katy Darling,
Comic Parody,
Darling Jenny Bell,
Darling Rosabel,
Death of Annie Laurie,
Ettie May,
Few Days,
Give ’em String and let ’em Went,
Go it while You’re Young,
Hail Columbia,
Happy Hezekiah,
I’d Choose to be a Daisy,
I have Something Sweet to Tell You,
Isle of Beauty,
I Think of Old Ireland wherever I Go,
Jeannette and Jeannot,
John Jones,
Jordan is a Hard Road to Travel,
Kitty Kimo,
Lather and Shave,
Lager Bier Song,
Linda has Departed,
Lillie Bell,
Love Not,
Man the Life-Boat,
My Dear Old Mother,
My Girl with a Calico Dress,
My Heart’s in Old Ireland,
My Poor Dog Tray,
Old Rosin the Bow,
Over the Left,
Old Dog Tray, No. 2.
Parody on the West,
Pop Goes the Weasel,
Pretty Jane,
Rosa Lee,
Song of the Locomotive,
Sparking Sarah Jane,
The American Girl,
The American Boy,
The Boys of Kilkenny,
The Emigrant’s Farewell,
The Fine Old English Gentleman,
The Fine Old Irish Gentleman,
The Fine Old Dutchman,
The Fireman’s Death,
The Fireman’s Boy,
The Girl I Left behind Me,
The Gold-Digger’s Lament,
The Indian Hunter,
The Old Oaken Bucket,
The Old Whiskey Jug,
The Other Side of Jordan,
The Pirate’s Serenade,
The Yellow Rose of Texas,
Ten O’Clock, or, Remember, Love, Remember,
Tilda Horn,
True Blue,
To the West,
Uncle Ned,
Unhappy Jeremiah,
Vilkins and his Dinah,
We Miss Thee at Home,
What Will Mrs. Grundy Say?
Woodman, Spare that Tree.

CONTENTS

OF

Beadle’s Dime Song Book,

No. 4.

Ain’t I Glad to get out of the Wilderness,
A National Song,
Answer to Katy Darling,
A Merry Gipsy Girl again,
A Parody on “Uncle Sam’s Farm,”
Ben Fisher and Wife,
Bonnie Jamie,
Broken-Hearted Tom, the Lover,
By the Sad Sea-Waves,
Columbia Rules the Sea,
Come, Gang awa’ wi’ Me,
Commence you Darkies all,
Cottage by the Sea,
Daylight is on the Sea,
Don’t you cry so, Norah, Darling,
Erin is my Home,
Gal from the South,
He Led Her to the Altar,
Home, Sweet Home,
I am a Freeman,
I’ll hang my Harp on a Willow-Tree,
I’m not Myself at all,
Indian Hunter,
I’ve been Roaming o’er, the Prairie,
I Wish He would Decide, Mamma,
Jane Monroe,
Johnny is Gone for a Soldier,
Jolly Jack the Rover,
Kate was once a little Girl,
Kitty Tyrrel,
Let Me Kiss Him for his Mother,
Linda’s Gone to Baltimore,
Maud Adair, and I,
Molly Bawn,
My ain Fireside,
My Boyhood’s Home,
Nora, the Pride of Kildare,
O, God! Preserve the Mariner,
Oh, Kiss, but never tell,
Old Uncle Edward,
Paddy on the Canal,
Poor old Maids,
Ship A-Hoy!
Somebody’s Courting Somebody,
Song of the Farmer,
Song of Blanche Alpen,
Sparking Sunday Night,
Sprig of Shilleleh,
Stand by the Flag,
The Farmer’s Boy,
The Hazel Dell,
The Harp that once Through Tara’s Hall,
The Indian Warrior’s Grave,
The Little Low Room where I Courted my Wife,
The Low Backed Car,
The Old Brown Cot,
The Old Kirk-Yard,
The Railroad Engineer’s Song,
They don’t wish Me at Home,
Tom Brown,
Terry O’Reilly,
Uncle Gabriel,
Uncle Tim the Toper,
We were Boys and Girls together,
We are Growing Old together,
We are all so Fond of Kissing,
Where are now the Hopes I Cherished?
Within a Mile of Edinburgh Town,
Would I were a Boy again,
Would I were a Girl again,
Would I were with Thee.

CONTENTS

OF

Beadle’s Dime Song Book

NO. 5.

A Dollar or Two,
A Man’s a Man for a’ That,
Angel’s Whisper,
Auld Lang Syne,
A Yankee Ship, and a Yankee Crew,
Bashful Young Man,
Call Me Pet Names,
Camptown Races,
Charity,
Cheer, Boys, Cheer,
Comin’ Thro’ the Rye,
Der mot Astore,
Dilla Burn,
Down the Burn, Davy, Love,
Dumbarton’s Bonnie Dell,
Ever of Thee,
Gum-Tree Canoe,
Hark! I hear an Angel Sing,
I’d Offer Thee this Hand of Mine,
In the Days when I Was Hard Up,
John Anderson, my Jo, John,
Johnny was a Shoemaker,
Kind Relations,
Last Week I took a Wife,
Mary of Argyle,
Meet Me by Moonlight,
Napolitaine,
Norah M’Shane,
Nothing Else to Do,
Och! Paddy, is it Yerself?
Oft in the Stilly Night,
Roll on Silver Moon,
Sambo, I have Miss’d You,
Sammy Slap, the Bill-Sticker,
Simon the Cellarer,
Something to Love Me,
Some Love to Drink,
Sourkrout and Sausages,
Still so Gently o’er Me Stealing,
The Gay Cavalier,
The Gambler’s Wife,
The Grave of Uncle True,
The Grave of Bonaparte,
The Ingle Side,
The Irish Emigrant’s Lament,
The Ivy Green,
The Lass that Loves a Sailor,
The Last Rose of Summer,
The Lily of the West,
The Minute Gun at Sea,
The Monks of Old,
The Musical Wife,
The Ocean Burial,
The Old Arm-Chair,
The Poor Little Fisherman’s Girl,
The Rat-catcher’s Daughter,
The Rose of Allendale,
The Tail iv Me Coat,
The Watcher,
Thou art Gone from my Gaze,
Thou hast Wounded the Spirit,
’Tis Midnight Hour,
Twilight Dews,
Umbrella Courtship,
Wake! Dinah, Wake!
Washington, Star of the West,
We’ll have a little Dance To-Night Boys,
We Met by Chance,
When I Saw Sweet Nelly Home,
When the Swallows Homeward Fly,
Whoop de Doodle do,
William of the Ferry,
Will You Love Me Then as Now?

CONTENTS

OF

Beadle’s Dime Song Book,

NO. 6.

Annie Lisle,
Beautiful World,
Be Kind to the Loved Ones,
Bobbin’ Around,
Bonnie Dundee,
Courting in Connecticut,
Dearest Mae,
Dear Mother, I’ll Come again,
Ella Ree,
Fairy Dell,
Far, far upon the Sea,
Gentle Hallie,
Gentle Nettie Moore,
Happy are we To-night,
Hattie Lee,
He Doeth All Things Well,
I can not Call her Mother,
I’ll Paddle my own Canoe,
I’m Standing by thy Grave, Mother,
Is it Anybody’s Business?
Jane O’Malley,
Jenny Lane,
Joanna Snow,
Johnny Sands,
Lilly Dale,
Little more Cider,
Lulu is our Darling Pride,
Marion Lee,
Meet me by the Running Brook,
Minnie Clyde,
Not for Gold,
Not Married Yet,
Oh, carry me Home to Die,
Oh! Silber Shining Moon,
Oh! Spare the Old Homestead,
Old Homestead,
Ossian’s Serenade,
Over the River,
Riding on a Rail,
Sailor Boy’s Last Dream,
“Say Yes, Pussy,”
Spirit Voice of Belle Brandon,
Squire Jones’s Daughter,
The Bloom is on the Rye,
The Blue Junietta,
The Carrier Dove,
The Child’s Wish,
The Cottage of my Mother,
The Female Auctioneer,
The Irish Jaunting Car,
The Lords of Creation shall Woman obey,
The Maniac,
The Merry Sleigh-Ride,
The Miller’s Maid,
The Modern Belle,
The Mountaineer’s Farewell,
The Old Mountain Tree,
The Strawberry Girl,
The Snow Storm,
The Song my Mother used to Sing,
Three Grains of Corn,
Washington’s Grave,
What is Home without a Sister,
Where are the Friends?
Why Chime the Bells so Merrily?
Why don’t the Men propose?
Will Nobody Marry Me?
Young Recruit.

CONTENTS

OF

Beadle’s Dime Song Book,

NO. 7.

A Ride I once was Taking,
Beautiful Venice,
Billy Patterson,
Breeze of the Night,
Bright-Eyed Little Nell of Narragansett Bay,
Come, Willie dear, I’m weeping now,
Deal with me Kindly,
Dixie’s Land No. 1,
Dixie’s Land No. 2,
Dolcy Jones,
Down among the Cane-Brakes,
Fairy Belle,
Farewell, old Cottage,
Glendy Burk,
Here’s a Health to thee, Tom Moore,
Ho, Gondolier, awake,
How shall I watch thy Coming,
Hush-a-by, Baby,
I Love my Native Land,
It is Recorded,
Julianna Johnson,
Lily Ray,
Little Daisy,
Little Ella,
Maggie by my Side,
Maggie, the Pride of the Vale,
Mary May,
Mary’s Welcome Home,
Massa in de Cold Ground,
Massa sound is Sleeping,
My Brodder Gum,
My Canoe is on the Ohio,
My old House, my dear, happy Home,
My own Mountain Home,
Nelly Bly,
No, thank you, Sir, or Fairy May,
Oh, don’t you remember the Time,
Oh, I’m a jolly Bachelor,
Old Ironsides,
Old K. Y. Ky,
Our Union, Right or Wrong,
Over the Summer Sea,
Paddy Boghree,
Queen Mary’s Escape,
Revolutionary Times,
Ring de Banjo,
Roy, Neill,
She’s Black, but that’s no matter,
Some Folks,
Take me Home to Die,
The Anchor’s Weighed,
The Evening Gun,
The Happy Switzer,
The Home I leave Behind Me,
The Messenger Bird,
The Newfoundland Dog,
The Old Stage Coach,
The Pilot,
The Reefer’s Song,
The Ship on Fire,
The Sleighing Glee,
The Star of my Home,
Under the Willow she’s sleeping,
Virginia Belle,
Way down in Cairo,
We are Coming, Sister Mary,
Who’ll have me,
Willie, my Brave,
Will you list to me, Nellie?

$20 Worth of Music for Ten Cents!

BEADLE’S

DIME MELODIST,

COMPRISING THE MUSIC AND WORDS

CONTENTS:

A Hundred Years Ago,
A Lowly Youth,
Anna Bell,
Annie Lowe,
Be Quiet do, I’ll Call my Mother,
Bime, Bome Bell,
Bonny Eloise,
Carry Me Home to Tennessee,
Ettie May,
Far on the Deep Blue Sea,
Fare Thee well, Katy Dear,
Forgive but don’t Forget,
Hope on, Hope Ever,
I had a Gentle Mother,
I’ll Dream of Thee no More,
In the Wild Chamois’ Track,
Keemo Kimo,
Jennie with her Bonnie Blue E’e,
Love Me little, Love Me long,
Marion Lee,
Mary of Lake Enon,
Mary of the Glen,
Mother, Sweet Mother, why Linger Away?
My Soul in one unbroken Sigh,
Oft in the Stilly Night,
Oh, my Love he is a Salieur,
Oh, Whisper what Thou Feelest,
Old Josey,
Once upon a Time,
One Cheering Word,
One Parting Song, and then Farewell,
Poor Thomas Day,
Pretty Nelly,
Round for Three Voices,
Scenes that are Brightest,
Sleeping I Dreamed, Love,
Softly ye Night Winds,
Some One to Love,
Strike the Light Guitar,
Swinging, Swinging all Day Long,
’Tis Pleasant to be Young,
’Tis the Witching Hour of Love,
The Dearest Spot of Earth,
The Female Smuggler,
The Good-by at the Door,
The Hazel Dell,
The Leaves that Fall in Spring,
The Low-Backed Car,
The Mother’s Smile,
The Old Folks are Gone,
The Winds that Waft my Sighs to Thee,
There is a Flower that Bloometh,
There is Darkness on the Mountain,
Thou art Mine own, Love,
Where is Home?
Why do I Weep for Thee?
Widow Machree,
Wild Tiadatton,
Winsome Winnie,
Work, Work,
Yes, let Me like a Soldier Die.

BEADLE’S

Dime Cook Book.

CONTENTS.

Seven Recipes to make BREAD,
Six Recipes to make BISCUITS or ROLLS,
Seventeen Recipes to make HOT BREAD and CAKES,
Fourteen Recipes for BREAKFAST DISHES,
Sixteen Recipes for Preparing BEEF for the Table,
Eleven Recipes for Preparing VEAL for the Table,
Fifteen Recipes for Preparing MUTTON for the Table,
Fourteen Recipes for Preparing PORK for the Table,
Twelve Recipes for Preparing POULTRY and GAME for the Table,
Ten Recipes for Preparing FISH for the Table,
Nine Recipes for NICE BREAKFAST DISHES,
Ten Recipes for SOUPS,
Eighteen Recipes for VEGETABLES,
Seven Recipes for SAUCES,
Eighteen Recipes for PIES,
Twenty-one Recipes for PUDDINGS,
Thirty Recipes for CAKES,
Five Recipes for TEA, COFFEE, and CHOCOLATE,
Twelve Recipes for JELLIES,
Sixteen Recipes for PRESERVES,
Eight Recipes to KEEP and DRY FRUITS,
Four Recipes for JAMS.

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The COOK-BOOK embraces Recipes, Directions, Rules and Facts relating to every department of Housekeeping.

The RECIPE-BOOK is a perfect treasure house of knowledge, for the kitchen, parlor, nursery, sick-room, the toilet, &c., &c.

The BOOK OF ETIQUETTE can truly be called a useful work. It embodies all the information necessary to “post” the reader, old or young, male or female, upon every point of etiquette or social usage.

The FAMILY PHYSICIAN is an invaluable hand-book for the family and an indispensable aid to the thrifty housewife.

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This series of educational works is designed to meet the wants of every school, public or private--every scholar, male or female, in our country.

MUSIC AND SONG.

Beadle’s Dime Song Books, No’s 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 & 7

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BEADLE’S DIME BIOGRAPHICAL LIBRARY.

No. 1.--GARIBALDI: THE WASHINGTON OF ITALY.
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No. 4.--MAJOR-GENERAL ANTHONY WAYNE: THE REVOLUTIONARY PATRIOT AND
INDIAN CONQUEROR.
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THE
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141 William St., New York.

Transcriber’s Notes:

Page numbers are displayed in the right margin. Words in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like this_.

Unprinted letters and punctuation marks were added. Other punctuation marks were amended for consistency within the book. On page 56, duplicate ‘to’ was removed from ‘... Peeping stars they seem to to be;...’

In “The Sword of Bunker Hill,” the last two lines of each stanza were bracketed with the word “Repeat.” The brackets were removed and the two lines were duplicated in each stanza.

Misspelled words, below, were retained as printed:

Pg 12 - ‘permisson’ for ‘permission’
Pg 21 - ‘afface’ for ‘efface’
Pg 26 - ‘Jane’ for ‘Juney’
Pg 33 - ‘sororws’ for ‘sorrows’
Pg 40 - ‘tallk’ for ‘talk’
Pg 51 - ‘childern,’ possible misprint for ‘children’
Pg 57 - ‘gathere,’ for ‘gathered’ or ‘gather’
Pg 61 - ‘pnmpkins’ for ‘pumpkins’
Pg 69 - ‘comidg’ for ‘coming’
Advert, penultimate page, ‘BAEDLE’S’ for ‘BEADLE’S’

End of Project Gutenberg's Beadle's Dime Song Book No. 1, by Various