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AMERICAN BALLADS AND SONGS
THE DYING CALIFORNIAN
Lay up nearer, brother, nearer
For my limbs are growing cold, And thy presence seemeth dearer
When thine 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.
Harken, brother, closely harken.
I have something I would say, Ere the vale my visions darken
And I go from hence away. I am going, surely going,
For my hope in God is strong, I am willing, brother, knowing
That he doeth nothing wrong.
Tell my father when you greet him
That in death I prayed for him, Prayed that I might one day meet him
In a world that is free from sin. Tell my mother God assist her
Now that she is growing old, Tell her child would glad have kissed her
When his lips grew pale and cold.