| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
18 |
Christy's |
||
|
Now years have past—my youth am gone ;
My eyes are bathed in tears,
And nuffin's left dis nig on earth,
But memory of past years.
Old massa promised me to-day,
Dat when I fail'd, and died,
He'd lay me, wife, and little ones,
In one grave, side by side.
Chorus. Den gadder round, ye darkey crew, De tale I oft have sung ,
No more will meet your list'ning ears, Of days when I was young. |
|||
|
Greeting to a Merry Key—Not Jenny Lind's.
Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!
Let's sing, to a merry key,
Of the banner that waves aloft
0' er the home of the brave and free.
The darkey may sing at his work, Or dance at de close ob de day; Wid de fiddle or banjo and bones, Drive every sharp sorrow away. He may lay in de shade ob de trees, And snooze, and be dreamin ob bliss. Den talk not ob far distant lands, For none can be equal to dis.
Chorus. Hurrah, &c.
De stars dat shine ober our heads Are transposed to our banner so bright, And diffuse o'er our broad happy land Their purest and steadiest light j |
|||
|
/ |
|||