American Old Time Song Lyrics: 26 Poor Little Joe
Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 26
POOR LITTLE JOE.
While strolling one night through New York's gay throng,
I met a poor boy, he was singing a song;
Although he was singing, he wanted for bread,
And though he was smiling, he wished himself dead.
I spoke to this poor boy, out in the snow,
he had no home to shelter him, no place to go;
No mother to guide him, in the grave she is low,
Cast on the cold street was poor little Joe.
Chorus.
Cold blew the blast, down came the snow,
He had no place to shelter him, no place to go;
No mother to guide him, in the grave she is low,
Cast on the cold street was poor little Joe.
A carriage passed by with a lady inside,
I looked on poor Joe's face and saw that he cried;
He followed the carriage, she not even smiled,
But fondly caressing her own darling child.
I looked on this waif, I thought it was odd,
Is this poor, ragged urchin forgotten by God?
And I saw by the lamp light that shone on the snow,
The pale, deadly features of poor little Joe.-Chorus.
The light had gone out, the clock had struck one,
Along came a policeman, whose duty was done;
I could tell by the sound of his dull, heavy tread,
You'd think he was sinking the graves of the dead.
Oh! what is this? the policeman he said.
It was poor little Joe, on the ground he lay dead.
With his eyes turned to heaven, covered with snow,
Died in the cold street did poor little Joe.-Chorus.