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40 SONGS OF THE SOLDIERS AND SAILORS.
46. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. (A fiat.)
How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view!
The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wild wood, And every loved spot which my infancy knew.
The wide spreading pond and the mill that stood by it, The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell; The cot of my father, the dairy house nigh it, And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well. The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket that hung in the well.
47. OLD FOLKS AT HOME.
Way down upon the Swanee River, far, far away,
There's where my heart is turning ever, There's where the old folk's stay. All up and down the whole creation, sadly I roam,
Still longing for the old plantation And for the old folks at home.
All the world am sad. and dreary, everywhere I roam Oh, darkies, how my heart grows weary, Far from the old folks at home.
All around the little farm I wandered, when I was
young; Then many days I squandered, many the songs I
sung. When I was playing with my brother, happy was T. Oh ! take me to my kind old mother, there let me live