American Old Time Song Lyrics: 55 Oh Sing To Me

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 55

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Copyright. 1898. by R. J. Hartford.
Words by Mrs. G. Justice. Music by Hartford.

Sing to me darling to-night when alone,
Though far from you now I would still be thine own;
Thy voice I so love returns to me now,
My heart is in pain as to fate I must bow.

Beautiful voice, sing to me now, sing to me always winsome and low,
Sing to me happy, sing to me sad, only thy voice alone makes me glad.

Tell me, oh, can I meet life all unmoved?
I've tried to forget but still live unsoothed:
Oh, why should I tear from my mem'ries so dear,
Mem'ries so fond now grown stronger with years.-Refrain.

Hours passed with you are now spent alone,
The songs that I sing so changed in their tune;
Will you return, dear, return to me soon,
And make the life bright that Is now spent in gloom.- Refrain.

Copyright, 1897, by T. B. Harms & Co.
Words by Harry B. Smith Music by Ludwig Englander.

On the mall in the Park, on a shiny day,
'Tis our delight to gather;
While the nurses flirt and the children play,
Do we like it? Say! well, rather?
Come the girls and boys, little Fountleroys,
Who are loved by mas and paters:
Come the nurses all, with the babies that squall,
In their happy perambulators.
With laughter light, with faces bright,
In games we are disporting;
While our nurses pert, delight to flirt,
With the coppers here consorting.
Each lad and lass is gay And glad,
Our life seems one long lark;
When it's hip, hooray, for a summer day
On the mall in Central Park,
When it's hip, hooray, for a summer day
On the mull in Central Park.
In natty little apron And jaunty little cap,
We nurese are as preety as they make 'em:
And ev'ry park policeman with a face like Ireland's map,
Makes love to us and begs of us to take 'em.
We're real Parisian maids who come from Sweden and from Cork,
And we are as coquettish us we may he.
Oh, we own the big policemen who are owners of New York,
And we never hear the crying of the baby.

Hush, hush, hush, hush, stop that crying or her nurse will drop her,
Hush, hush, hush, hush, while your nursey's flirting with a copper,
Lullaby, while we wink the other eye, stop your caterwauling right away;
Go to sleep, I sing to you, or I won't do a thing to you!
Go to sleep, I sing to you, sleep, little brat, I say!
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E-Book - An Annotated Compendium of Old Time American Songs by James Alverson III