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The Virginia Rose-Bud; or, The Lost Child.
The music, with piano-forte accompaniment, punished-by Messrs. Firth, Pond & Co., New York.
I had a bud,—'twas in my garden growing—
A slip I nourished with a father's care; When other darkies round that plant were hoeing.
A fragrant zephyr seemed to fill the air. Oh! how I've watched that little plant while creeping
She, like her mother, all was blithe and gay— One night I left her on her pallet sleeping,
And in the morning she was stole away. One night I left her on her pallet sleeping,
And in the morning she was stole away.
Solo—for Tyrolean echo.
They stole—they stole—they stole my child away They stole—they stole—they stole my child away .
And then this heart, it withered, and dejected
Wandered through the fields, but all in vain J And every plant on me a shade reflected,
My tears they flowed upon them like the rain The thunder-storm that breaks in horror o'er us,
Throws back the rainbow's bright refulgent rays* Though dark the night that now is hovering o'er us,
Bringing back the light of other days.