He led her to the altar,
But the bride was not his chosen;
He led her with a hand as cold
As though its pulse had frozen.
His soul was sadly dreaming,
Of one he had hoped to cherish;
Of a name and form that the sacred rites,
Beginning, told must perish.
He gazed not on the stars and gems
Of those who circled round him;
But trembled as his lips gave forth
The words that falsely bound him.
He led her to the altar, &c.
Many a heart was praising,
Many a hand was proffer’d;
But mournfully he turn’d him
From the greeting that was offer’d.
Despair had fix’d upon his brow
Its deepest, saddest token,
And the bloodless cheek and stifled sigh
Betray’d his heart was broken.
He led her to the altar, &c.
67
Where are now the Hopes I Cherished?
Copied by permission of FIRTH, POND & CO., 547 Broadway, publishers
of the music.
Where are now the hopes I cherish’d?
Where the joys that once were mine?
Gone forever--all have perish’d,
And the blighter’s hand was thine!
Look upon me, and remember
Thy Norma ere she was betray’d;
Look again, and look exulting,
On the ruin thou hast made;
Look again, and look exulting,
On the ruin thou hast made.
Canst thou think, as thou dost listen
To thy children’s artless songs,
Of that moment when their fond hearts,
First shall feel their mother’s wrongs?
Ha! thou shrinkest like the lightning,
To thy bosom fell remorse shall dart,
And thou yet shall know the anguish
Which hath broken my poor heart;
And thou yet shall know the anguish
Which hath broken my poor heart.
68
Paddy on the Canal.
When I landed in sweet Philadelphia, the weather was pleasant and
clear,
I did not stay long in the city, so quickly I shall let you hear.
I did not stay long in the city, for it happen’d to be in the fall,
I never reef’d a sail in my rigging, till I anchor’d out on the
canal.
CHORUS.--So fare you well, father and mother,
Likewise to old Ireland too;
So fare you well, sister and brother,
So kindly I’ll bid you adieu.
When I came to this wonderful rampire, it fill’d me with the
greatest surprise,
To see such a great undertaking, on the like I never open’d my
eyes;
To see full a thousand brave fellows at work among mountains so
tall,
To dig through the valleys so level, through rocks for to cut a
canal.
So fare you well, &c.
I enter’d with them for a season, my monthly pay for to draw,
And being in very good humor, I often sang Erin Go Bragh.
Our provision it was very plenty, to complain we’d no reason at
all,
I had money in every pocket while working upon the canal.
So fare you well, &c.
I learnt to be very handy, to use both the shovel and spade,
I learnt the whole art of canalling--I think it an excellent trade.
I learned to be very handy, although I was not very tall,
I could handle the sprig of shillelah, with the best man on the
canal.
So fare you well, &c.
I being an entire stranger, be sure I had not much to say,
The boss came round in a hurry, says, “Boys, it is grog-time
a-day;”
We all marched up in good order, he was father now unto us all,
Sure I wish’d myself from that moment to be working upon the canal.
So fare you well, &c.
When at night we all rest from our labor, be sure but our rent is
all paid.
We lay down our pick and our shovel, likewise our axe and our
spade.
We all set a-joking together, there was nothing our minds to
enthrall
If happiness be in this wide world, I am sure it is on the canal.
So fare you well, &c.
69
Jane Monroe.
Copied by permission of WM. HALL & SON, 547 Broadway, N. Y.,
owners of the copyright.
It was down in Louisiana,
Not many years ago,
I fell in lub wid a pretty gal,
And her name was Jane Monroe;
Her eyes was bright as diamonds,
Her teeth was white as snow--
Oh, de prettiest gal I eber saw,
Was charming Jane Monroe!