American Old Time Song Lyrics: 40 Sweet Sunny South

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 40

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SWEET SUNNY SOUTH.
Copyright by John C. Schrelner & Sons.

Take me home to the place where I first saw the light,
To the sweet Sunny South; take me home.
Where the mocking-bird sung me to rest ev'ry night-
Ah, why was I tempted to roam?
I think with regret of the dear home I left,
Of the warm hearts that sheltered me then;
Of the wife and the dear ones of whom I'm bereft,
And I sigh for the old place again.

Chorus.
Take me home to the place where my little ones sleep,
Poor Massa lies buried close by;
O'er the graves of the loved ones I long to weep
And among them to rest when I die.

Take me home to the place where the orange-trees grow,
To my cot in the ever-green shade,
When; the flowers on the river's green margin may blow
Their sweets on the banks where we played.
The path to our cottage, they say. has grown green,
And the place is quite lonely around;
And I know that the smiles and the forms I have seen
Now lie in the dark mossy ground.

Chorus.
Take me home to the place where the little ones sleep,
Poor Massa lies buried close by;
O'er the graves of the loved ones I long to weep
And among them to rest when I die.

Take me home-let me see what is left that I knew;
Can it be that the old house is gone?
The dear friends of my childhood, indeed, must be few,
And I must lament all alone.
But yet, I'd return to the place of my birth,
Where my children have played at the door;
Where they pulled the white blossoms that garnished the earth,
Which will echo their footsteps no more.

Chorus.
Take me home to the place where the little ones sleep,
Poor Massa lies buried close by;
O'er the graves of the loved ones I long to weep.
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E-Book - An Annotated Compendium of Old Time American Songs by James Alverson III