Canteen Songster: A Collection of the Most Popular Songs of the Day, Comprising Sentimental, Comic, Negro, Irish, National, Patriotic, Social, Convivial, and Pathetic Songs, Ballads, and Melodies |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 14
Page 7
... flowers , And love too often blasted is By wintry chilling hours , But if , when I return again , I find thee true to me , I will but lightly mourn to think That all are changed but thee . Meet me to - night , & c . AND EYES WILL WATCH ...
... flowers , And love too often blasted is By wintry chilling hours , But if , when I return again , I find thee true to me , I will but lightly mourn to think That all are changed but thee . Meet me to - night , & c . AND EYES WILL WATCH ...
Page 18
... flower , Without a care or sorrow , As I was in childhood's hour . When ladies , Heaven bless them ! They'd kiss me , and they'd vow That they could almost eat me Why don't they do it now ? Chorus . I'd choose to be a baby , A darling ...
... flower , Without a care or sorrow , As I was in childhood's hour . When ladies , Heaven bless them ! They'd kiss me , and they'd vow That they could almost eat me Why don't they do it now ? Chorus . I'd choose to be a baby , A darling ...
Page 19
... flower , A plaything for the ladies , No care in childhood's hour . The ladies they would pet me , And pat me on the brow , And say I was a beauty , Why don't , they say it now ? Chorus . I'd choose to be a baby , A pretty little flower ...
... flower , A plaything for the ladies , No care in childhood's hour . The ladies they would pet me , And pat me on the brow , And say I was a beauty , Why don't , they say it now ? Chorus . I'd choose to be a baby , A pretty little flower ...
Page 20
... flower , My petals closing softly At twilight's quiet hour , And waking in the morning When falls the early dew , TA . T To welcome heaven's bright ' sunshine , And heaven's bright tear - drops , too , 19 ; I'd choose to be a daisy , If ...
... flower , My petals closing softly At twilight's quiet hour , And waking in the morning When falls the early dew , TA . T To welcome heaven's bright ' sunshine , And heaven's bright tear - drops , too , 19 ; I'd choose to be a daisy , If ...
Page 24
... flowers in May ! When I thought of Isabella , And her gingham umbrella , And her father's little barber - shop at Wee - haw - ken . When you hear the sequel , you'll say it has no equal In all the annals of woman's deceit ; I went one ...
... flowers in May ! When I thought of Isabella , And her gingham umbrella , And her father's little barber - shop at Wee - haw - ken . When you hear the sequel , you'll say it has no equal In all the annals of woman's deceit ; I went one ...
Common terms and phrases
according to Act Act of Congress Arrah Aura Lee battle bless bom-bom-bom BONNIE BLUE FLAG Bonny Boys Boys in Blue Brave General Sherman bright CARNCROSS and DIXEY's cheer Chorus Chorus.-Oh Clerk's Office cruiskeen lawn Cure dark girl darling das ist mein Dear Mother Dietchen District Court DIXEY's Minstrels dream dressed in blue drummel Entered according Evangeline father friends frizzle em bum gals heart hearty welcome home hurrah Irish Volunteers J. L. CARNCROSS Joe Johnston jump ladies Larboard watch ahoy lather and shave lonely Lorena Mary Mary of Argyle Mavourneen Mother dear never night o'er old flag pilly-willy-wink pray for thee PRISONER'S HOPE rally Rub-a-dub-a-dub shoddy cloth-contractor sing sleep smile soldier song soon sorrow Sung by J. L. sweet tears tell There's Tic-knock-knock to-night tramp Twas Uncle Sam voice W. R. SMITH waggerdy oh Wee-haw-ken weep young
Popular passages
Page 95 - Away to the Dismal Swamp he speeds — His path was rugged and sore, Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds, Through many a fen, where the serpent feeds, And man never trod before. And when on the earth he sunk to sleep, If slumber his eyelids knew, He lay where the deadly vine doth weep Its venomous tear, and nightly steep The flesh with blistering dew ! And near him the she-wolf...
Page 100 - Father, dear Father, come home with me now! The clock in the steeple strikes one. You said you were coming right home from the shop, As soon as your day's work was done. Our fire has gone out, our house is all dark, And Mother's been watching since tea, With poor brother Benny so sick in her arms, And no one to help her but me. Come home, come home, come home! Please Father, dear Father, come home!
Page 95 - They made her a grave too cold and damp For a soul so warm and true; And she's gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp, Where all night long, by a fire-fly lamp, She paddles her white canoe.
Page 105 - The day is bright as then, The lark's loud song is in my ear, And the corn is green again; But I miss the soft clasp of your hand, And your breath, warm on my cheek, And I still keep list'nin' for the words You never more will speak.
Page 110 - And such the trust that still were mine, Though stormy winds swept o'er the brine, Or though the tempest's fiery breath Roused me from sleep to wreck and death ! 4 In ocean cave still safe with thee, The germ of immortality ; And calm and peaceful is my sleep, Rocked in the cradle of the deep.
Page 95 - And the boat returned no more. But oft, from the Indian hunter's camp This lover and maid so true Are seen at the hour of midnight damp. To cross the Lake by a fire-fly lamp. And paddle their white canoe ! MARCHIONESS DOWAGER OF DONEGALL.
Page 106 - I'll not forget you, darling, In the land I'm goin' to: They say there's bread and work for all, And the sun shines always there, But I'll not forget old Ireland, Were it fifty times as fair!
Page 80 - We've been tenting to-night on the old camp ground, Thinking of days gone by, Of the loved ones at home, that gave us the hand, And the tear that said
Page 106 - I'll not forget old Ireland, Were it fifty times as fair! And often in those grand old woods I'll sit, and shut my eyes, And my heart will travel back again To the place where Mary lies; And I'll think I see the little stile Where we sat side by side, And the springin' corn, and the bright May morn, When first you were my bride.
Page 70 - TRAMP! TRAMP! TRAMP! (THE PRISONER'S HOPE) (1863) In the prison cell I sit, Thinking, Mother dear, of you, And our bright and happy home so far away, And the tears they fill my eyes Spite of all that I can do, Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.