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HYLAND'S MAMMOTH |
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RING THE BELL SOFTLY.
Some one has gone from this strange world of ours, No more to gather Its thorns with its flowers, No more to linger, where sunbeams must fade, Where, on all beauty, Death's fingers are laid, Weary with mingling life's bitter and sweet, Weary with parting and never to meet, Some one has gone to the bright golden shore! Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door; Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door. CHORU&.—Weary with mingling life's bitter and sweet,
Weary with parting, never to meet,
Some one has gone to the bright golden shore!
Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door;
Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door. Some one is resting from sorrow and sin, Happy where earth's conflicts enter not in. Joyous as birds, when the morning is bright; When the sweet sunbeams have brought us their light, Weary with sowing and never to reap, Weary with labor and welcoming sleep, Some one's departed to Heaven's glad shore! Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door; Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door.
Chorus.—Weary with mingling, etc. Angels were anxiously longing to meet One who walks with them in Heaven's bright street; Loved ones have whispered that some one is blest, Free from earth's trials, and taking sweet rest. Yes! there is one more In angelic bliss, One less to cherish, and one'less to kiss, One more departed to Heaven's bright shore! Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door; Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door.
Chorus.—Weary with mingling, etc. |
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THE BLACKBIRD.
It was on one fine morning for soft recreation,
I heard a fair damsel making sad moan, Sighing and sobbing with sad lamentation,
Saying tcy Blackbird most loyal has flown. My thoughts they deceived me, reflection it grieves me,
And I am o'erburden'd with sad misery; But if death should find me. as true love inclines me,
My Blackbird I'll seek out wherever I be. Once in fair England my Blackbird did flourish,
He was the chief flower that in it did spring. Fair ladies of honor his person did nourish.
Because that he was the true son of a king. But, O, that false fortune has proved so uncertain,
That caus'd the parting between you and me. But If be remain in France or in Spain,
I'll be true to my Blackbird wherever be be. In England my Blackbird and I were together,
When he was the most noble and gen'rous of heart. But woe to the time when be arrived there, ,
Alas! he was soon forced from me to part. In Italy he beam'd and was highly esteemed,
In England he seems but a stranger to me, But If he remain in France or In Spain,
All blessings on my Blackbird wherever he be. But if by the fowler my Blackbird is taken,
Sighing and sobbing will be all the tune; But if he Is safe, and I'm not mlsatken,
I hope I shall see him in May or In June, |
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