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Christy's plantation melodies. 17
The evening star is fast a-waning, The night is dark, tlfe clouds are raining, Here thy Sambo stands a-waiting— Hurry, my dearest Juliana.
Chorus. Come, my love, &e. |
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Poor Old Jessy.
Music, with Piano Forte accompaniment, published by Lee & Walker, No. 188, Chesnut Street, Philadelphia.
Old Jessy once was young like us,
Could hoe the cotton well, But now he's passing away from us,
Like the dew-drop on the hill.
Chorus. Then pity poor old Jessy,
And wipe the tear-drop from your eye, For Jessy's going to leave us soon And in the ground to lie.
Old Jessy's hair is grey and long
Like the moss upon the tree, And his teeth dropp'd out of the old jawbone;
But soon he will be free.
Chorus. Then pity poor old Jessy, &c.
Old Jessy can't play his old banjo,
His fingers are stiff and sore, They tremble so the bones do crack—
He'll play— no—never more.
Chorus. Then pity poor old Jessy, &c.
He used to go out in the oyster-boat,
Far, far away from shore; But he never will go out again—
Echo answers, nevermore.
Chorus. Then pity poor old Jessy, &c. |
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