Den commence you darkies all,
As loud as you can bawl!
Commence you darkies all, to-night.
Touch light de banjo-string,
An’ rattle de ole jaw-bone,
Oh, merrily sound de tamborine,
An’ make de fiddle hum;
An’ make de fiddle hum, old dad;
De way dem bones will shake,
Am a caution to all living niggs,
An’ a deff to rattlesnakes.
Den commence, &c.
“Oh, for a piano or guitar!”
I hear a fair one cry;
But when I hear dese instruments,
I tink I’d like to die.
I tink I’d like to die, I does,
I could lay me down to rest,
For music hab such ’lodious sounds
To soothe dis darkey’s breast.
Den commence, &c.
When I go to promenade,
I look so fine an’ gay,
I hab to take de dogs along
Te keep de gals away;
My busom am so full ob lub,
Dis darkey can not rest,
So I’ll bid you all good-by, at last,
An’ trabble to de West.
Den commence, &c.
29
Columbia Rules the Sea.
Copied by permission of FIRTH, POND & CO., 547 Broadway, owners
of the copyright.
The pennon flutters in the breeze,
The anchor comes a-peak,
“Let fall sheet home,
The briny foam and ocean’s waste we seek;
The booming gun speaks our adieu.
Fast fades our native shore,
Columbia free shall rule the sea,
Britannia ruled of yore.
We go the tempest’s wrath to dare,
The billows’ madden’d play,
Now climbing high against the sky,
Now rolling low away;
While Yankee oak bears Yankee hearts,
Courageous to the core,
Columbia free shall rule the sea,
Britannia ruled of yore.
We’ll bear her flag around the world,
In thunder and in flame,
The sea-girt isles a wreath of smiles
Shall form around her name;
The winds shall pipe her pæans loud,
The billowy chorus roar
Columbia free shall rule the sea,
Britannia ruled of yore.
30
I’m not Myself at all.
Oh! I’m not myself at all, Molly dear, Molly dear,
I’m not myself at all,
Nothing caring, nothing knowing, ’tis after you I’m going,
Faith your shadow ’tis I’m growing, Molly dear, Molly dear,
And I’m not myself at all.
Th’other day I went confessin’, and I ask’d the father’s blessin’
But says I, “Don’t give me one entirely,
For I fretted so last year,
But the half o’ me is here,
So give the other half to Molly Brierly
Oh! I’m not myself at all.”
Oh! I’m not myself at all, Molly dear, Molly dear,
My appetite’s so small,
I once could pick a goose, but my buttons are no use,
Faith my tightest coat is loose, Molly dear, Molly dear,
And I’m not myself at all.
If thus it is I waste, you’d better dear make haste
Before your lover’s gone away entirely,
If you don’t soon change your mind
Not a bit o’ me you’ll find,
And what ’ud you think ’o that Molly Brierly?
Oh! I’m not myself at all.
Oh! my shadow on the wall, Molly dear, Molly dear,
Isn’t like myself at all.
For I’ve got so very thin, myself says ’tisn’t him,
But that purty girl so slim, Molly dear, Molly dear,
And I’m not myself at all.
If thus I smaller grow, all fretting dear for you,
’Tis you should make me up the deficiency,
So just let Father Taaf
Make you my better half,
And you will not the worse for the addition be;
Oh! I’m not myself at all.
I’ll be not myself at all, Molly dear, Molly dear,
’Till you my own I call.
Since a change o’er me there came, shure you might change your name,
And ’twould just come to the same, Molly dear, Molly dear,
Oh! ’twould just come the same;
For if you and I were one, all confusion would be gone,
And ’twould simplify the mather entirely,
And ’twould save us so much bother
When we’d both be one another,
So listen now to rayson, Molly Brierly,
Oh! I’m not myself at all.
31
Erin is my Home.
Oh, I have roam’d in many lands,
And many friends I’ve met;
Not one fair scene or kindly smile
Can this fond heart forget;
But I’ll confess that I’m content,
No more I wish to roam;
Oh, steer my bark to Erin’s isle,--
For Erin is my home.
Oh, steer my bark, &c.
If England were my place of birth,
I’d love her tranquil shore;
But if Columbia were my home,
Her freedom I’d adore.
Though pleasant days in both I pass’d,
I dream of days to come;
Oh, steer my bark to Erin’s isle,--
For Erin is my home.
Oh, steer my bark, &c.
The Harp that once thro’ Tara’s Halls.
The harp that once through Tara’s halls
The soul of music shed,
Now hangs as mute on Tara’s walls,
As if that soul were fled.
So sleeps the pride of former days,
So glory’s thrill is o’er,
And hearts that once beat high for praise,
Now feel that pulse no more.
No more to chiefs and ladies bright,
The harp of Tara swells;
The chord alone, that breaks at night,
Its tale of ruin tells.
Thus freedom now but seldom wakes;
The only throb she gives,
Is when some heart indignant breaks,
To show that still she lives.
32
I Wish he would Decide, Mamma.
Copied by permission of FIRTH, POND & CO., 547 Broadway, N. Y.,
publishers of the music.
I wish he would decide, Mamma,
I wish he would decide,
I’ve been a bridesmaid many time,
When shall I be a bride;
My cousin Anne and sister Fan,
The nuptial knot have tied,
Yet come what will I’m single still,
Yet come what will I’m single still,
I wish he would decide.
When shall I be a bride,
When shall I be a bride,
For come what will I’m single still,
I wish he would decide.
He takes me to the play, Mamma,
And brings me pretty books,
He woos me with his eyes, Mamma,
Such speechless things he looks.
Where e’er I roam, abroad, at home,
He lingers by my side,
Yet come what will I’m single still,
Yet come what will I’m single still,
I wish he would decide.
When shall I be a bride,
When shall I be a bride,
For come what will I’m single still,
I wish he would decide.
I’ve thrown out many a hint, Mamma,
I’ve spoke of other beaux,
I’ve talk’d about domestic life,
And sung “They don’t propose.”
Then if he means to break, Mamma,
My passion and my pride,
Unconquer’d yet I’ll scorn regret,
Unconquer’d yet I’ll scorn regret,
Although he won’t decide,
Although he won’t decide,
Although he won’t decide,
Unconquer’d yet I’ll scorn regret,
Although he won’t decide.
33
We were Boys and Girls Together.
We were boys and girls together
In that happy time,
When the spirit’s light shone brightest
And the heart was in its prime;
Ere the morning light was clouded,
That beam’d upon our youth,
And chill of worldly knowledge
Had blighted childhood’s truth.
We were boys and girls together,
When the step was firm and light,
When the voice was clear and ringing,
And the laughing eyes were bright;
Then our love sought no concealment,
And our bosoms knew no art,
And the sunshine of our childhood
Cast no shadow on the heart.
34
A Parody on “Uncle Sam’s Farm.”
Of all the reformations, in the east or in the west,
Oh, the temperance reformation is the greatest and the best,
We invite the whole creation our pledge to come and sign,
And leave off drinking brandy, rum, cider, beer, and wine.