CRICKET ON THE HEARTH.
Copyright, 1884, by Geo. D. Newhall Co.
Oh, the birds have flown away, and the flow'rs have died and witther'd,
And the Autumn leaves they now are falling fast;
As I sit alone to-night by the dear old hearthstone fire,
Fond mem'ries 'round my heart they sweetly cast;
Twas there my dear old mother and my father sat at night,
While on the hearth the cricket it would sing.
Its sad and lonely song 'till the embers died away,
Oh, my heart around those happy days doth cling.
Listen to the cricket song singing on the hearth.
Recollections fond it brings, of days once full of mirth ;
Listen to the cricket's song, singing there to-night,
Could I only call them back, those happy .days so bright.
Oh, 'twas when a boy at home, in my mother's arms nested.
And I listen'd to the sweet songs she would sings;
As I sat upon her knee, in those happy days so bright,
Sweet thoughts of her to me they ever bring;
Oh, happy were tnose days to me, so full of childish glee,
when ev'ry moment pass'd in joyous mirth;
They'll never more return, those sunny days to me,
When the cricket sung its songs upon the hearth.-Chorus.