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Dar darkies live like princes, And dar do heel and toe;
Den my heart 's in Mississippi, Wherever I go. |
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Chorus. |
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Den fill to Mississippi,
And let de toast go 'round, Rosin up de fiddle-sticks,
And let de banjo sound ; O fotch along- de whiskey,
And let de fluid flow: For my heart 's in Mississippi, boys,
Wherever I go.
Chorus. |
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THE FUNERAL OF ALBERT SYDNEY JOHNSTON.
He fell and they cried, bring us home our dead ! We'll bury him here where the prairies spread, And the gulf waves beat on our Southern shores; He will hear them not when he comes once more— Our Albert Sydney Johnston!
When he went, how the flushed hope beat high On the brows of The Rangers standing nigh ! And the champing steeds of the Texas plain— For his voice was that to their bridle rein
That the air 's to the Persian monsoon. |
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212 |
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