No. 5.
When I saw Sweet Nellie Home.
Copied by permission of RUSSELL & TOLMAN, 192 Washington St., Boston,
owners of the copyright.
In the sky the bright stars glitter’d,
On the grass the moonlight fell,
Hush’d the sound of daylight bustle,
Closed the pink-eyed Pimpernel.
As adown the moss-grown wood path
Where the cattle love to roam,
From Aunt Dinah’s quilting-party,
I was seeing Nellie home.
_Chorus._--In the sky the bright stars glitter’d,
On the grass the moonlight shone,
From Aunt Dinah’s quilting-party
I was seeing Nellie home.
When the autumn tinged the green-wood,
Turning all its leaves to gold,
In the lawn by the elders shaded,
I my love to Nellie told.
On the star-bespangled dome,
How I blest the August evening,
As we stood together gazing,
When I saw sweet Nellie home.
In the sky, &c.
White hairs mingled with my tresses,
Furrows stealing on my brow,
But a love smile cheers and blesses
Life’s declining moments now.
Matron in the snowy kerchief,
Closer to my bosom come,
Tell me, dost thou still remember
When I saw thee, sweet Nellie home?
In the sky, &c.
I’d offer Thee this Hand of Mine.
I’d offer thee this hand of mine
If I could love thee less,
But hearts as warm and pure as thine
Should never know distress.
My fortune is too hard for thee,
’Twould chill thy dearest joys;
I’d rather weep to see thee free,
Than win thee to destroy.
I’d offer thee, &c.
I’ll leave thee in thy happiness
As one too dear to love;
As one I think on but to bless
As wretchedly I rove;
And oh! when sorrow’s cup I drink
All bitter though it be,
How sweet t’will be for me to think
It holds no drop for thee.
I’d offer thee, &c.
But now my dreams are sadly o’er,
Fate bids them all depart,
And I must leave my native shore
In brokenness of heart;
And oh! dear one, when far from thee,
I’ll ne’er know joy again;
I would not that one thought of me
Should give thy bosom pain.
I’d offer thee, &c.
Gum-Tree Canoe.
Copied by permission of RUSSELL, & TOLMAN, 291 Washington St., Boston,
owners of the copyright.
On Tom bigbee river, so bright, I was born,
In a hut made ob husks ob de tall yaller corn;
An’ dar I fust met wid my Jula so true,
An’ I row’d her about in my Gum-tree canoe.