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BLUE GRASS BALLADS 45
Thin and white are the faded hands, That tremble o'er the ivory keys, 'Mong old-time melodies they reach, And from the past a cadent breeze Comes singing lowóso sweetly lowó The dear loved songs of long ago.
There's tender love; there's blessed love;
There's joy, dear one, for you and me, In those sweet songs that come again, To ripple mem'ry's placid sea; 'Tis echo of a halcyon time Borne hither from a balmy clime.
Such were the songs you sung to me
'Mid roses and the rich perfume That came on zephyrs from the banks Embroidered bright in pansy bloom; They rose within your pretty mouth Blent with the accent of the South.
And I could bless the ivory keys,
That 'neath the trembling finger-tips Bring back the songs of long ago.
That kissed my sweetheart's crimson lips: Dear lips, fond lips, that yet are mine, Bedewed with love's own honeyed wine.