MIG AND ‘SENTIA) | SONGS 7s: NATIONS IND 3 Over 50 Songs. , . Price, 5 Cents. CONTENTS — THIS NUMBER. PAGE, Would I Were a Boy Again....... 9 Ze.. | Would I Were a Girl Again....... 9 The Dashing U. §. Marines’ March 3 | Stand By the Flag. 9 Evening Song to the Virgin, at Sea 2 | Jane Monroe .. I Love My Love. .. 0.0... 0.00005 2) Sally, My Darlin; veoh The Gold Digger’s Lament . . 2| My retty Yorkshire Lass........ 7110 My Style is Somethin New...... 2 | Son| of the Farmer.......s:..... 10 Have I Not Been Kind to Thee?.. 3 | I’m Not Myself at All..... ... .. 10 Somebody’s Courting Reeeety : Oh, Kiss, but Never Tell........ -10 The Storm!.... | Good- -by, Little Katie. 0 True Blue is the Color for Me.. 3 | Couldst — but Read This Heart Autumn Leaves % 4 of Min Don’t You Cry so, Norah, Darling 2 yy i be gae “Roaming O’er the Prai- De Ingia-Rubber Nig ii Daylight is on the aa sdeapewoss aad Maud Adair and Tin |... scov cers 4 Time ions LT PROVE esas 11 Sweet the Song of Birds......... Broken-Hearted ae — ey 11 Jolly Jack the Rover . 5 Kitty Tyrrell . Lah Svea Kate Was Once a Little Girl...... 5 | Columbia Rules the Sea... 12 Man the Life-Boat.... ..........+ 5 | Ain’t IGlad to Get Out of the es The Vagabond derness? O’Brien, Keep Off the Grass_. . “| Answer of — Darling......... i I Put My Arm Around Her Waist; Iam a Freem 1 or, the Pretty Ballet Girl....... | You May Look, but You Mustn’t The Farmer's Touch 18 Will You Love Me Just a Little. 4 Tom Brown. Ben Fisher and Wife... ......... ; | My Ain Hireside ... . +... +06 ec.ds 13 Bitter and Mild... i .0 52.7 se | My Bo; hood’ 8 Hon, +6 6s gin, 13 Pretty Little Mary, or Chuck, 8 “On! ‘eter.’ 18 Chuck, Chuck 8 | Poor and Gay; or It Might Have The Little Low oom Where I | Been Worse. . 1 Courted My Wife............... I 8 | the Ol Sunday Night. Kons My Susianna,. ...... as a. Kavk- Yards piston ck 14 Look Out for ‘Stormy Wedder!.. Moses Solomon............:...-05 14 I'm The Boy That’s Bound To Blaze! Published by E. H. Harprne, 229 Bowery, N. Y. Music and words, 10 cents, *. parents are wealthy and live in style, n a mansion of their own, They dote upon me and if faults they see, They will never make them known. Some chide me and say in a gentle way, ON. must change your careless ways; But it ne’er can be done, for while life is mine, I’m the boy that’s bound to blaze. Bound to blaze, bound to blaze, bound to blaze! Cuorvus—I’m the boy that’s bound to blaze, While I’m living I must be gay, My Pa is rich, my Ma don’t care, ‘And I’m bound to blaze away! They say I’m so nau ue. the girls I mean, But they only speak in fun, They know what a man of the world I am, And the hearts I’ve lost and won. T'll do as I please, understand, my boys, Let the world give scorn or ‘praise; For evil or good I will be a blood, I’m the boy that’s bound to blaze! Bound to blaze, bound to blaze, bound to blaze! (CHo.) I know all the sports, and the sports know me, And I’m welcomed everywhere, I handle the ‘‘ ribbons ” so wild and free, All the people stop and stare. I drive thro’ the Park when the day is bright, With my pair of shining bays. Sensation is ever my heart’s delight And I’m always bound to blaze! Bound to blaze, bound to blaze, bound to blaze! I go to the races and bet my pile, in or lose, it’s all the same, For when you're in Rome a must feel at home, Never mind the future b: i ha i is i ! Sometimes I awake with a great headache, And Fifty-seven other Songs in this issue! se nid taaay tae “No Saeed - 8a) oe oi the way Sold by all newsdealers, five cents each; or sent, post-paid, to any address, on receipt When a fellow’s bound to blaze! of six cents per copy. BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William St., N, Y. Bound to blaze, Pound to blaze, bound to blaze! gh te eee R The Dashing U. 8. Marines’ March. Copyrighted by C. M. Pyke. Pubished by Sprar & Dennnor®, 717 Broad- way, New York. Musi¢ and words, 40 ceuts, Oh, gay and dashing boys are we, the bold U. 8. Marines, We march and fight for Uncle Sam, and eat his pork and beans; To charm the pretty girls likewise we’re not at all afraid, With muskets bright we take their eye when out upon parade. “Riyes right, boys!” when the fife begins to play, Stiff as starch we march, we march away! With heads thrown back, in our glory then we’re seen, Oh, how the charmers smile at the dashing U. 8. Marine. ‘Beneath our starry banner boldly on we stride; Our courage, too, for fighting, has traveled far and wide. It’s high upon the main-top, there we blaze away, Like gallant soldiers foremost in the fray. Beneath our starry banner boldly on we stride, Our courage, too, for fighting has traveled far and wide, It’s high upon the main-top there we blaze away, Like gallant soldiers, gallant soldiers foremost in the fray, CHORUS. “ Hyes right, boys!” when the fife begins to play, Stiff as starch we march, we march away, With heads thrown back in our glory then we’re seen Oh, how the charmers smile at the dashing U. 8. Marine. Oh, when the summons comes to fight we bid the girls adieu, And far upon the stormy seas the foe we must pursue. But in our hearts we fondly keep the sweethearts we adore, It’s true to them we'll always be until we march ashore. “ Left foot first!” we’re the boys that have no fear, ‘Oh, how sweet!” cries each dainty little dear. They wave their hands when our gallant ranks are seen, The pride of all the land is the dashing U. 8. Marine, For love and home and beauty we will always fight, To rally ’round our banner still is our delight. Amid the cannon’s thunder in the van are we, To fight for freedom on the stormy sea. For love and home and beauty, we will always fight, To rally ’round our banner still is our delight, Amid the cannon’s thunder in the van are we, To fight for freedom, fight for freedom on the stormy sea. (CHORUS.) Then, ladies dear, where’er we go, we drink success to you, And though we may be years away, our hearts will still be true; Tho’ sailors find a sweetheart fond in every port they’ve seen, That same is not the case with us, the bold U. 8. Marines. “File left, march!” when the drums are beating loud, - “Halt! front face!” oh we're the boys so proud, We'll ne’er say die, tho’ we leave this charming scene, For light and gay’s the heart of the dashing U. 8S. Marine. With splendid regimentals, gloves all lily white, And full of fame and glory we’re spoiling for a fight. It’s high upon the main-top there we blaze away, Like gallant soldiers foremost in the fray. With handsome regimentals gloves all lily white, And full of fame and glory we’re spoiling for a fight. It’s high upon the main-top there we blaze away, Like gallant soldiers, gallant soldiers foremost in the fray. (CHORUS.) Evening Song to the Virgin, at Sea. - Published by E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowery, N. Y. Music and words, 10 cents. Ave sanctissima, We lift our souls to Thee, Ora pro nobis, ’Tis nightfall on the sea, Watch us while shadows lie Far o’er the water spread, Hear the heart’s lonely sigh, Thine too hath bled. Thou, that hast looked on death, Aid us when death is near. Whisper of Heav’n to Faith, Sweet mother, sweet mother, hear! Ora pro nobis, ; The wave must rock our sleep, Ora, Mater, ora, Star of the deep! e | a ee ee er THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. ao 18 I Love My Love. Copied by permission of Wm. A. Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. Music and words, 80 cents. What is the meaning of the song that rings so clear and loud, Thou nightingale amid the copse, thou lark above the cloud? What says thy song, thou joyous thrush, up in the walnut tree? I love my love, because I know my love, my love loyes me, I love my love, because L know my love, my love loves me. What is themeaning of thy thought, oh! maiden, fair and young? There is such pleasure in thine eyes, such music on thy tongue. There is such glory on thy face, what can the meaning be? I love my love, because I know my love, my love loves me, I love my love, because I know my love, my love loves me, Oh! happy words, at beauty’s feet, we sing them ere our prime; And when the early summers pass, and care comes on with time, Still be it owrs, in care’s despite, to join the chorus free, Llove my love, because I know my love, my love loves me, I love my love, because I know my love, my love loves me. The Gold Digger’s Lament. Iam going away from my creditors just now, I ain’t got the tin to pay ’em, and they’re kicking up a row, There’s the sheriff after me with pockets full of writs, And my tailor’s vowing vengeance, he swears he’ll give me fits. There’s no room for speculation, and the mines ain’t worth a flam, And I ain’t one of those lucky coves that works for Uncle Sam; Whichever way I turn I am sure to meet a dun, “So I think the best thing I can do is just to cut and run.” I wish those “ tarnal critters” that wrote home about the gold, Was in the place the Scriptures say is never very cold; They told you of the heaps of dust and lumps so very big, But they never said a single word how hard you had to dig. I went up to the mines and helped to turn a stream, Got trusted on the strength of that delusive golden dream; But when the river was turn’d, we found it would not do, And we who damm’d the river our creditors did sue. I am going far away, but I don’t knov; ~ere Tl go, *T won’t do to turn homeward now, they’ll laugh at me I know, For I told them when I left, I was going to make a pile, But if they could only see me now I rather guess they’d smile, If of these United States I was the President, No man who owed another should ever pay a cent; And he who dunned another should be banish’d far away, For attention to the pretty girls is all a man should Pay. "ee ; ee ot {Written for the ‘SmNGER’s Liprary. | My Style is Something New. Composed and sung by Jonnny Cary, of St. Louis, Mo. I have just come out before you here To sing and dance a while; So try and pay attention - And I'll show to you myastyle. A song and dance are my delight; And what I say is true— I’m a happy little collard moke, And my style is something new. -. Cuorus—Just watch me while ‘T.do this break-— (BREAK) And there you see there's no mistake. To sing and dance is my delight, And what I say is true, I’m a happy little collard moke And my style is something new. (SYMP. ) My make-up is neat and plain, you see; While at dancing I am smart; You can’t discount my singing, For to me it’s all but art. I do not doubt before I’ve done You will confess it’s true— That \’m a happy little collard moke, | And my style is something new. (CHoRUS.) veatt gad oS eee THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. aan aun an ammo toe = ite, & Have I Not Been Kind to Thee? Copyrighted by W. R. Dennunorr. Published by Sprar & Dennuorr, 717 Broadway, New York. Music and words, 40 cents. Let the past be all forgotten— Why that look of weary pain? Tell me that you love me fondly— Take me to your heart again. Bid my days flow on so gently — Calmly as the summer sea; Whisper truly, dearest, sweetest, Have I not been kind to thee? CxrorvusS—Stay the teardrop falling, fast, Darksome days will never last! Darling, whisper sweet to me, Have I not been kind to thee? Lovely roses soon will blossom, Tho’ the leaves are falling round; What if days of sorrow greet us! Sunny hours will soon be found, Can we e’er forget the gladness That has bloom’d for you and me? Chide me not, but whisper sweetly: Have I not been kind to thee? _(CHorvs.) Drive away that look of sorrow, Ev’ry fault of mine forgive; Let our past be all forgotten, Only for your sake I live! Smile your olden smile then, dearest, In those eyes my heav'n I see; Doubt no more my heart’s affection, Have I not been kind to thee? (CHoRUs.) Somebody’s Courting Somebody. Copied by permission of Frrru, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, o owners of the copyright. Somebody's courting somebody Somewhere or other to-night; Somebody’s whispering to somebody, Under the clear moonlight. Near the bright river’s flow, Running so still and slow, Talking so soft and low, She sits with somebody. Somebody’s courting somebody Somewhere or other to-night; Somebody’s listening to somebody, Under the clear moonlight, Under the clear moonlight, Pacing the ocean shore, Edged by the foaming roar, Words never breathed before, Sound swet to somebody; Under the maple-tree, Deep though the shadow be, Plain enough they can see, Bright eyes has somebody. Somebody’s courting somebody Somewhere or other to night; Somebody’s listening to somebody Under the clear moonlight, Under the clear moonlight, No one sits up to wait, Though she is out so late, All know she’s at the gate Talking with somebody; Two sitting side by side, Float with the ebbing tide, ‘Thus, dearest, may we glide Through life,” says somebody. , Somebody’s courting somebody Somewhere or other to-night; Somebody’s listening to somebody Under the clear moonlight, Under the clear moonlight. THE STORM! Published by E. H. Harpine, it weer New York. Music and words, cents. The tempest rages wild and high, The waves lift up their voice and cry Fierce answers to the angry sky Miserere Domine. Thro’ the black night and driving rain, A ship is struggling, all in vain To live upon the stormy main; Miserere Domine, Miserere Domine. The thunders roar, the lightnings glare, Vain is it now to strive or dare; A cry goes up of great despair, Miserere Domine. The stormy voices of the main, The moaning wind and pelting rain, Beat on the nursery window-pane; Miserere Domine, Miserere Domine. Warm curtain’d was the little bed, Soft pillow’d was the little head; ‘The storm will wake the child!” they said. Miserere Domine. Cow’ring among his pillows white, He prays, his dim eyes dim with fright; “ Father, save those at sea to-night!” Miserere Domine, Miserere Domine. The morning shone, all clear and gay, On a-ship at anchor in the bay, And on a little child at play! Gloria Tibi Domine, Gloria Tibi Domine. ———+4—__—— True Blue is the Color for Me, There are fifty fine colors that flaunt and flare, All pleasant and gay to see, But of all the fine colors that dance in the air, True Blue’s the color for me. True Blue is the color of good true love, For it melts in woman’s eye, True Blue is the color of heaven above, For it beams in the azure sky. True Blue is the vest that Nature free Has spread round the joyous earth, True Blue is the hue of the dancing sea, As it gave to beauty birth. True Blue, it flows in the soft blue vein Of a bosom that’s fair and true, As the violet, soften’d by heaven’s own rain, Is tinged with the heavenly hue. True Blue is seen in the distant vale, - Where the fond hearts love to roam, It curls in the smoke from the shelter’d dale, As it guides the wanderer home. True Blue hangs glorious over the wave, From a thousand ships unfurl’d, It clothes the breast of the Yarikees brave, As they bear it round the world. And when the skies grow dark, and wild winds yell, If he sees but.a streak of blue, The steersman is glad, for he knows all’s well, And his guardian angel’s true. Then let all the fine colors flaunt and flare All pleasant and gay to see, True Blue’s the color alone to wear, ‘True Blue’s the color for me. a —————— EEO eOer'——-—> aR a Te Soa THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. AUTUMN LEAVES. Published by E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowery, N.Y. Music and words, 10 cents. Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, Lie strewn around me here; Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, How sad, and cold, how drear! How like the hopes of childhood’s day, Thick clust’ring on the bough: How like those hopes is their decay, How faded are they now. Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, Lie strewn around me here, Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, How sad, how cold, how drear! Wither'd leaves, wither’d leaves, That fly before the gale; Wither’d leaves, wither’d leaves, Ye tell a mournful tale Of love once true, and friends once kind, And happy moments fled; Dispers’d by ev’ry breath of wind, Forgotten, chang’d or dead! Autumn leaves, etc, Don’t You Cry so, Norah, Darling. Copied by permission of Firtn, Ponp & OCo., 547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. Don’t you cry so, Norah, darling, ‘Wipe those tears away, Don’t you cry so, Norah, darling, Smile on me to-day; See the wind is freshly blowing, And the ship longs for the sea, Be to-day your smiles bestowing Sweetly, love, on me. CHorus—Don’t you cry so, Norah, darling, Wipe those tears away; Don’t you cry so, Norah, darling, Smile on me to-day. Though ’tis sad to leave you, darling, I must no more stay, Think of me, Norina, darling, When I’m far away; And, although to part brings sadness, Keep your young heart light and free, ‘Your sweet face adorn with gladness, Thinking still of me. (CHORUS.) Don’t you cry so, Norah, darling, Wipe those tears away, Don’t you ery so, Norah, darling, Smile on me to-day; When from work I rest a-weary, All my thoughts on you will be, And my life will not seem dreary, If you’re true tome. (CHORUS.) [Written for the Suvamr’s Lisrary.] De Ingia-Rubber Nig. Written by H. S. Sargent, expressly for Johnny Webster, acrobatic p song and dance artist. Oh! here Lis a jovial nig, From South Car’lina State; I can do de Alabama Fling, And twist all out ob shape; My only joy is bouncing ’round, Wid wenches fat and big; Jes’ watch de evolutions of Dis Ingia-rubber Nig. Cuorus—For I feel so awful gay, (BREAK) I could throw myself away, (BREAK) For I neber felt so happy in my time; So I'll fling myself around, Wid a flip-flap and a bound, For I’se a Dandy Nig dat’s bound to shine. "Tis said de colored gemmans, dey Am rising mighty high Into de Guv’ment Offices; Dey'll soon de White House try; And if de niggers get in dar, Dey’ll feel sv mighty big Dey'll turn dere noses all up at Dis Ingia rubber Nig. (CHorus.) T’se jes’ as happy as a clam, And take de world at ease; No matter where I chance to be, I do my best to please; T’ll soon,be hitched to ’Liza Jane, She’s sweeter dan a fig; And take her down to Dixie, wid Dis Ingia-rubber Nig. (CHORUS.) ee Daylight is on the Sea. Copied by permission of Firtu, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, publishers of the music. ‘ Daylight is on the sea! Love, do not stay; Land is no place for me, I must away! My bark is on the waves, My boat ashore; The surge its broadside laves, While sleeps each oar, Crorvus—Daylight is on the sea, Land is no place for me; Come away, love, comie away, love, I dare no longer stay; Come away, love, away, love, I dare no longer stay. Come away, away, away, away, away, I dare no longer stay, Away, away, away, away, away, I dare no longer stay. Daylight plays o’er the deep, Like childhood’s stiles; Blue waves and hush’d winds sleep, Enchain’d awhile! My bark is on the waves, My boat ashore, The surge its broadside laves, While sleeps each oar. (CHORUS. Maud Adair and I. Copied by permission of Firtu, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. One year ago were we sixteen, Maud Adair and I, With lightsome tread we tript the green, Maud Adair and I; But Maud Adair is lying low, She left poor me three moons ago; We ne’er shall meet again below, Maud Adair and I. Cuorus—My Maud Adair! Sweet Maud Adair! We'll meet again up in the sky, Maud Adair and I. One year ago, with han‘! in band, Maud Adair and I, We roaim’d the sunny hill and strand, Maud Adair and I; But one sad eve, with tearfnl eye, She whisper’d low a last ‘‘ Good-by,”— We'll meet again up in the sky, Maud Adair and I. (CHorus.) How happy were we, and how true, Maud Adair and I, Like elm and ivy, upward grew Maud Adair and I; Oh, be thy spirit ever near To whisper softly words of cheer! , While God doth guard, what can we fear, Maud Adair and I? (CHorvs.) ae ee = Se Se a —— - SS i THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. | 5 LION Sweet the Song of Birds. Copied by permission of O. Drrson & Co., 451 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright. Music and words, 40 cents. Sweet the song of birds in springtime, As they fill with music all the air, Sweet the breath of roses blooming, Sighing out their souls in perfume rare. But more sweet than any song of bird, Is a gentle voice I’ve often heard, Whispering to me, “I love you! I love you! I love you!” When it softly says ‘‘I love you,” Oh, how my hear is stirred. Tcan hear it now, Hear it softly vow, That she loves me dearly, and will evermore be true. Whisper once again, Drive away my pain, For, my darling, well you know, That I love but you. (Danoz.) Blest the hour when morning blushing, Paints the eastern sky with rosy hues, Blest the hour when faintly flushing, Cloudlets in the west their radiance lose. But the hour is always doubly dear, When a gentle voice I often hear, Whispering to me, ‘‘I love you! Ilove you! I love you!” When it softly says ‘‘I love you,” Then heav’n itself is near. I can hear it now, Hear it softly vow, That she loves me dearly, and will evermore be true. Whisper once again, Drive away my pain, For, my darling, well you know, That I love but you. (DANcE.) Jolly Jack the Rover. Here I am one, and still will be, Who spend their days in pleasure, The tailor’s bill is seldom fill’d, For he’s never took my measure. CxHorus—It must be while I do live, And I must not give over, Until old age doth me engage, From being a jolly rover. It’s on my vamps, I take my tramps, My shoes being in bad order, My stockings down into the ground, For I seldom wears a garter. (CHORUS.) If I would dress up in fine clothes, The ladies would adore me, The fops of beaux that wear fine clothes, They think to go before me. (CHORUS.) It’s I can play at cards and dice, Let me be drunk or sober, Win or lose, I’ll have my dues, For I’m Jolly Jack the Rover. (CHoRUS.) Three tons of wool through a comb I pull, All in the neatest order, As white as milk and soft as silk, To please the farmer’s daughter. (CHORUS.) When my work’s done and finish’d off, T’ll take it to the owner, I have no doubt that she’s found out, That I’m Jolly Jack the Rover. (CHORUS.) When I am old, if I have gold, T’ll set down by my table, With you, my dear, I’ll toast good beer, And drink while I am able. (CHoRvs.) When I am dead, and in my grave, It’s then I must give over, Let each jolly lass fill a parting glass, And drink a health to Jack the Rover. (CHORUS.) Kate Was Once a Little Girl. Copied by permission of Firra, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, publishers of the music. Kate was onco a little girl, Heigh ho! heigh ho! Eyes of blue, and teeth of pearl, Heigh ho! heigh ho! In the spring, when school was done, Full of life and full of fun, O'er the bills away she’d run, Heigh ho! heigh ho! Gentle breezes all the day, Heigh ho! heigh ho! Through her sunny locks would play, Heigh ho! heigh ho! Still on her cheek as brightly plays The sunshine of her youthful days, And still as sweet her girlish ways, ’ Heigh ho! heigh ho! Kate’s a little older now, Heigh ho! heigh ho! Still as fair her radiant brow, Heigh ho! heigh ho! All her thoughts are pure and bright, As the stars we see at night, Shining with a.joyous light, Heigh ho! heigh ho! Kate will always be the same, Heigh ho! heigh ho! She’ll never change except in name, Heigh ho! heigh ho! So gently time shall steal away, She'll always be as bright and gay, As when she laugh’d in girlhood’s day, Heigh ho! heigh ho! MAN THE LIFE-BOAT. Man the life-boat! man the life-boat! Help! or yon ship is lost; Man the life-boat, man the life-boat, See how she’s tempest-toss’d; No human power in such an hour, The gallant bark can save, Her mainmast's gone, and hurrying on, She seeks a watery gave. Man the life-boat! man the life-boat! See the dreadful signal flies; Ha! she has struck, and from the rock Despairing shouts arise; And one there stands and wrings his hands, Amidst the tempest wild, For on the beach he can not reach, He sees his wife and child. Life-saving ark! yon doomed bark Immortal souls doth bear, Not gems, nor gold, nor wealth untold, But men, brave men, are there! Oh, speed the life-boat, speed the life-boat, Oh God! their efforts crown! She dashes on—the ship is gone Full forty fathoms down. Ah, see! the crew are struggling now, Amidst the billows roar, They’re in the boat, they’re all afloat, Hurrah! they’ve gain’d the shore, Bless the life-boat, bless the life-boat! Oh, thou’lt hear our prayer, Bless the life-boat, bless the life-boat! No longer we'll despair. \ Se | — OE eee OO euceew@™ és ees: I ow ee —————— THE SINGER’S LIBRARY, oon THE VAGABOND. I Put My Arm Around Her Waist; or, Published by E. H. Harding, 229 Bowery, N.Y. Music and words, 10 cents, The Pretty Ballet Girl. ' Homeless, ragged and tann’d, Under the changeful sky, Published by E. H. Harpine, 229 Bowery, New York. Music and words, Who so free in the land, 10 cents. Who so contented as 1? Ne’er need I quake I met my love the other day, Lest fortune prove unkind, And she began to talk, Ne’er my heart break 3 She placed her hand upon my arm, That vows have ceas’d to bind. And said, ‘‘ George, take a walk.” Not e’en a dog What could I do? she was well dress’d, Would I call by friendship’s name, And look’d so young and fair, Lonely I. jog, No crinoline, such pretty boots, E’en thither whence I came. And charming yellow hair! Homeless, ragged and tann’d, Under the changeful sky, SrpoKEN—Now what could I do, gentlemen, under the circum- anes a tienda aaa stances? Only imagine, receiving an invitation from a charming young lady to take a walk, on a fine summer afternoon. Why, ae oe dea a I did the same as you would have done: Taught out of nature’s page, Bann’d by saintliest cant, Learning hypocrisy’s wage; Singing I plod, By wayward fancy led, Trusting in God, Who the sparrows still hath fed. Cuorus—I put my arm around her waist, Now was I much to blame? She was a pretty ballet girl, And dane’d at Drury Lane, No! let me die . We took a stroll along the street, Ere be the world’s base thrall! Up to a draper’s shop; Fate I defy! She gave my arm a sudden pull, To-morrow ne’er recall! And said—‘‘ Oh, George, dear, stop! Homeless, etc. ad is not that a pretty dress, . at blue one, don’t you see? Once, tender love Oh, do, “deer George, youdtenmnleedunt Watch’d at my side, Now, from above, Her angel’s my guide. Go buy that dress for me!” (CHORUS.) When Heav’n above We went inside—a nice young man Asks my last breath, With whiskers neat and trim, Angel love, A knowing twinkle in his eye, Smile on the Vagabond’s death; Upon his face a grin; When Heav’n above That dress, sir, yes, sir, very cheap, Asks my last breath, Tis only four pounds four—” Angel love, He pack’d it up, I paid the tin, Smile on the Vagabond’s death! He bow’d us to the door. (CHOoRUS.) Smile on the Vagabond’s death! Ah! Homeless, ete, We then walk’d by a street or two, She saw that I was green, And took me to another shop oe / To buy a Victorine. P 5 “Oh, dear old George, I love you so [Written for the Srvcrr’s Lrprary.] ; I 16v8 you best of all, z & ’ ‘ 1 There’s only one thing more I want O Brien, Keep Off the Grass! (SpoxEN: Dear old Georgey) That is, a Paisley shawl.” BY TONY ADAMS. vo oe would wd my friends, Sroxen—Rather expensive. But the ladies are expensive s to what I’m going to say; « % bl: wis dia bovit-4liowe blackguards when they get the gentlemen: out shopping. But I —_ J cae That cry out at me each day them—and she was so charming, so beautiful, and irresistible, ‘Whenever I go on the street; that I could not resist the temptation, so I bought her the shawl, Sure, every time I pass ‘ : HORUS. They yell out with terrific force, Ss ) “O'Brien, keep off the grass!” She said, ‘‘Oh, George, I’m tired, dear, Go call a cab, I pray, And place the parcels all inside, Then go across the way, CxHorus—1 don’t know what they mean by it, Whenever I chance to pass They make the street resound with this— “O’Brien, keep off the grass!” To buy some cakes and marmalade, Then hasten back to me, Last week I went to Coney— We'll drive unto my mamma’s house, In fact, I often do; And take a cup of tea.” (CHORUS.) With Mary Ann Maloney I skipped the tra-la-loo! While we were eating chowder Terry Slattery chanced to pass; As he went by he winked his eye And cried— “‘ Keep off the grass!” (CHORUS.) I went to the confectioner’s, And bought the things for tea, Came straightway back, across the road, But no cab could I see! She’d told old coachee to drive on, I jumped and cried, ‘‘ Nixey, pard!” It was her little game, And grabbed him by the coat; To leave me standing in the street, 2 — ae oe ke Re over. me— Now was that not a shame? e gob, it was no joke pe ae A ite idict oer SpoKEN—The little rogue, she is always tormenting me with And as they marched down to the boat some prank or other, Well, never mind, I'll forgive her, and: Sung—‘ O’Brien, keep off the grass!” (CHORUS. ) 2 f { eee aoa A a '2 . ¥ as + * : - ee ———_ THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. : oa THE FARMER’S BOY. The sun had gone down behind yon hill, And o’er yon dreary moor, When, weary and lame, a boy there came Up to a farmer’s door, Saying, ‘Can you tell me, if any there be, Can give to me employ, For to plow, for to mow, for to reap, for to sow, For to be a Farmer’s Boy? With her five children small, And what is worse, for mother still, I’m the eldest of them all; Though small I am, I fear no work, If you will give me employ, For to plow, ete. “Tf you can not me employ, One favor yet I ask, That is to shelter me this one night From the cold winter’s blast; At the break of day, I will trudge away, Elsewhere to seek employ, For to plow,” ete. The farmer says, ‘‘ We will try the lad, No further let him seek.” “ Oh, yes, dear father,” his daughter cried, While the tears rolled down her cheek; “For him that can labor it is hard to want, Or elsewhere to seek employ, For to plow,” etc. At length of years this boy grew up, This good old farmer died, He left the boy the farm he had, And his daughter for his bride. The boy that was, is a farmer now, And he ofttimes thinks with joy, On the happy, happy day, he came that way, For to be a Farmer’s Boy. “(My father is dead, my mother is left [Written for the Sivemr’s Liprary.] Will You Love Me Just'a Little? BY “KID KLYDE.”’ Tell me truly, dearest maiden— Tell me now before we part That you love me just a little— That I’ve won your gentle heart— That I ever more can claim you— Claim you as my little wife! Come, speak, darling! Be not silent; End my heart of all its strife. Cxorvus—Will you love me just a little— Just a trifle I implore? It will fill my heart with gladness— Joy and gladness evermore! Tell me truly, dearest maiden— Tell me now without delay; I am burning with impatience; Answer, ere I go away! Let me press you, little darling— Press you to my throbbing breast While the loving word you whisper That will make me ever blest. (CHORUS.) Ah! I see your lips are smiling; And the rose-tint on your cheek Deepens as you quietly listen To the wooing words I speak! And the light of love is shining In your eyes of azure blue— Tell me truly, darling maiden, That you ever will be true! (CHORUS.) \ : BEN FISHER AND WIFE. Copied by permission of Firrn, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, publishers of the music. Ben Fisher had finish’d his hard day’s work, And he sat at his cottage door; His good wife Kate sat by his side, And the moonlight danced on the floor— The moonlight danced on the cottage floor, Her beams were clear and bright, As when he and Kate, twelve years before, Talk’d love in her mellow light, Talk’d love in her mellow light. Crorus—The moonlight danced on the cottage floor, Her beams were clear and bright, As when he and Kate, twelve years before, Talk’d love in her mellow light. Ben Fisher had never a pipe of clay, And never a dram drank he, So he loved at home with his wife to stay, And they chatted right merrily— Right merrily they chatted on, Her babe slept on her breast, While a chubby rogue, with rosy smile, On his father’s knee found rest, On his father’s knee found rest, Right merrily, etc. Ben told her how fast the potatoes grew, And the corn in the lower field, And the wheat on the hills was grown to seed, And promised a glorious yield. A glorious yield in the summer-time, And his orchard was doing fair, His sheep and his flock were in their prime, His farm all in,good repair, His farm all in good repair. A glorious yield, etc. Kate said that her garden look’d beautiful, Her fowls and her calves were fat, The butter that Tommy that morning had churn’d, Would buy him a Sunday hat. That Jenny for pa a new shirt had made, And it was done, too, by the rule, That Neddy nicely could the garden spade, And Ann was up head at school; And Ann was up head at school. That Jenny for pa, etc, Ben slowly raised. his toil-worn hand, Through his locks of grayish brown: “TU tell you, Kate, what I think,” said he, “We're the happiest. folks in town.” “T know,” said Kate, ‘‘ that we all work hard, Work and health go together I’ve found, For there’s Mrs. Bell does not work at all, And she’s sick the whole year round, And she’s sick the whole year round. “T know,” said Kate, ete. ‘‘ They are worth their thousands, so people say, But I ne’er saw them happy yet; ’*T would not be me that would take their gold, And live in a constant fret. My humble home has a light within, Mrs. Bell’s gold could not buy— Six lovely children, a merry heart, And a husband’s love-lit eye, And a husband’s love-lit eye.’ My humble home,” ete. T fancied a tear was in Ben’s fine eye, The moon shone brighter and clearer, ! could not tell why the man should cry, But he hitch’d up to Kate still nearer. , He lean’d his head on her shoulder there, _ And he took her band in his, And I guess (though I look’d at the moon just then,) That he left on her lips a kiss, < That he left on her lips a kiss, He lean’d his head, ete. ———— eR 8 - BITTER AND MILD. Published by E. H. Harpe, 229 Bowery, N. Y. Music and words, 10 cents, We've all heard of Moet and Chandon, Of Clicquot, soda and B, As the right sort of thing to lay hands on, To drink when we’re out on the spree. Such tipple I never could fancy, It sets my poor head swimming wild; I'd rather by far in the morning, A glass of good Bitter and Mild, Crorus—Bitter and Mild, Bitter and Mild, Nutbrown and beautiful, foaming and bright! Bitter and mild, bitter and mild, The juice of John Barleycorn sets a cove right, My fondness for Mild and for Bitter, Like others, once led me astray; At a bar in the City I met her, Admir’d by the grave and the gay; And each time I paid her a visit, She’d cast her sweet eyes on this child, With a smile so refin’d and exquisite, “What is it, sir, Bitter or Mild.” Spoxrn—And catching hold of the beer engine with one hand and a glass with the other, she exclaimed: (CHORUS.) At the Zoo, on a Sunday, the dear, With me by her side you might see; All the girls thought how they’d like to be her, All the gents, how they’d like to be me. At Greenwich, Cremorne and Vauxhall, The bright hours in love we beguil’d; And on Monday I’d go to my Uncle, For I wanted my Bitter and Mild. (CHorvs.) For a long time I Milded and Bitter’d, Spent all my spare time and my cash, Till a friend, who than I had more courage, Bore away my belov’d with a dash, They got married in spite of upbraidings, And an action for ‘‘ breach” by this child; Had a daughter whose temper was Bitter, And another whose ditto was Mild. (CHORUS.) Pretty Little Mary, or Chuck, Chuck, Chuck. Published by E. H. Harpe, 229 Bowery, N.Y. Music and words, 10 cents. “To Farmer Jones’s I went one lovely February, For change of air I had left town for I felt so forlorn, Whena lovely scene burst on my sight, for there was pretty Mary, With the cocks and hens all around her, she was feeding them with corn, © Cxorus—Chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck, Said pretty little Mary, light as a canary; Chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck, As she call’d her chickens all around her. T loved her from that moment and would have felt much annoyed, Had I thought another sought her hand, for I’m a jealous Turk; A prettier girl you could not see more prettily employed, As she gave a sidelong glance at me, then went on with her work. (CHORUS. ) I raised my hat politely, said, ‘‘Good-morning to you, Mary,” She just glanced at me, slightly bowed her pretty little head, Said I, ‘‘ My dear, you’ve stolen my heart, I really must be wary, I’m deeply stabb’d with Cupid’s dart,” she look’d at me and said, (CHORUS. ) I would be day after day, with her completely stricken, I could not tear myself away, but by her side I’d stand; I said, ‘Oh! ‘vould I were a bird,” of course I meant a chicken, To be fed, aitho’ perhaps absurd, by Mary’s lovely hand. (CHoRUvs.) Six months with Jones I tarried, and I got so fond of Mary, To beg she’d wed, I had no fear, so popp’d to her one day; She consented, we were married, and what’s more extraordinary, We've got five chicks, to whom I hear my dear wife often say— ‘ (CHoRUvS.) THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. a serena nipanppeelpp ip asap ey aap ip pny apap mgm in pallial pth fn an fh in Ok NAPPA PG ALD RLRG DLA PLAS ALLL ATE SO The Little Low Room Where I Courted My Wife. Copied by permission of Firrx, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, Publishers of the music. My brow is seam’d o’er with the iron of years, And the snow-threads are gleaming the furrows among, My eyes have grown dim in the shadow of tears, Where the flowers of my soul have died as they sprung; But memory bears to me on its broad wings Bright images true of my earliest life, And there, ’mid the fairest of all that is seen, Is the little low room where I courted my wife, Is the little low room where I courted my wife. That low, humble room seem’d a palace of light, As love held his torch, and illumined the scene, With glory of state and profusion bedight, Where I was a monarch, my darling a queen; Ourselves were our subjects, pledged loyal were each, And which should love best was our heartiest strife; What tales could it tell, if possessing a speech, That little low room where I courted my wife, That little low room where I courted my wife. Warm vows has #4 heard, the warmest e’er spoke, Where lips have met lips in holy embrace, Where feelings that never to utterance woke, It saw oft reveal’d in a duplicate face; The sweet hours hasten’d, how quickly they flew, With fervent devotion and ecstasy rife! Our hearts throbb’d the hours, but how I ne’er knew, In the little low room where I courted my wife, In the little low room where I courted my wife. The romance of youth lent its rapturous zest, And fairydom knew no delight like our own; Our words were but few, but they were the best, A dialect sweet for ourselves all alone. So anxious to hear what the other might say, We neither could utter a word for our life; Thus the hours, in silence, pass’d quickly away In the little low room where I courted my wife, In the little low room where I courted my wife. Long years have since pass’d o’er my darling and a The roses have vanish’d away from her cheek, But the merciless moments, as onward they fly, Leave love still undimm’d in her bosom so meek; That love is the light to our faltering feet, Our comfort in hours with sorrowing rife, Our blessings in joy, as with joy ’twas replete, In the little low room where !| courted my wife, In the little low room where I courted my wife. $e ata ege tee Leses [Written for the Sinarr’s Liprary.] MY SUSIANNA, Written by H. 8. Sargent. Sung by Billy Norton. I lub a gal named Susie, She am de sweetest one In all ob South Car’lina, Oh! she’s my sugar plum. Cnorvus—Den yah, yah, yah, yah, Down dar I’ll quickly go To see my Susianna, For she’s my gal, you know. De first time dat I met her, *T was on de street one day; I asked her if she’d hab me; She says, ‘“‘What d’yer soay?” (CHORUS.) I told her dat I lubbed her; She looked me in de face And said, ‘‘ Go take a tumble, ‘Young chap, you’re off your base.” (CHORUS.) And now she’s gone and left me, We neber ’Il meet again; T’se gwine to Salt Lake City, On de twelve-O’ G. M. train. (CHoRus.) z ~~ THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. Look Out For Stormy Wedder! Copied by permission of E. H. Harprina, 229 Bowery, New York, owner of the copyright. Music and words, 10 cents. When the clouds are in the sky, Look out for stormy wedder! When you hear de babies ery, Look out for stormy wedder! When you hear us sing and shout, Just you mind what you're about; When you hear us sing and shout, Look out for stormy wedder! Cuorus—When the clouds are in the sky, Look out for stormy wedder! When you hear de babies cry, Look out for stormy wedder! Hooyah! Hooyah! Hooyah! Hooyah! Look out for stormy wedder! (DANCE.) When you kiss de pretty girls, Look out for stormy wedder! When you die and leave dis world, Look out for stormy wedder! When your girl begins to sigh, Don’t you ask de reason why? Only laugh and say, ‘‘Oh my!” Look out for stormy wedder! (CHORUS AND DANCE.) When we miss de morning train, Look out for stormy wedder! We must all go home again, Look out for stormy wedder! When we hear de Injine blow, ’Way from town we all must go, But we’ll sing before we go, Look out for stormy wedder! (CHoRUS anD Dancz.) Would I Were a Boy Again. Oh, would I were a boy again, When life seem’d form’d of sunny years, And all the heart then knew of pain Was swept away in transient tears, Was swept away in transient tears. When ev’ry dream hope whisper’d then, My fancy deem’d was only truth; Oh, would that I could know again, The happy visions of my youth. Oh, would I were a boy again, ete. *Tis vain to mourn that years have shown How false these fairy visions were, Or murmur that mine eyes have known The burden of a fleeting tear; But still the heart will fondly cling To hopes no longer prized as truth, And memory still delights to bring The happy visions of my youth. Oh, would I were a boy again, etc. Would I Were a Girl Again. Ob, would I were a girl again, With heart and spirit free, To gayly rove the village plain, Or singing o’er the lea. Then can you wonder if I sigh And sadly thus deplore, To wish for days, alas! gone by, And be a girl once more? I gayly trod the mountain side, Knew naught of care or gloom, Its purple bells brought home with pride, To deck my mother’s room. Then can you wonder if I sigh, etc. | STAND BY THE FLAG. Copied by permission of Firra, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. Stand by the flag, its folds have stream’d in glory, To foes a fear, to friends a festal robe, And spread in rhythmic lines the sacred story, Of freedom’s triumphs over all the globe; Stand by the flag on land and ocean billow; By it your fathers stood unmoved and true; Living defended; dying, from their pillow, With their last blessing, pass’d it on to you. Stand by the flag, though death-shots round it rattle; And underneath its waving folds have met, In all the dread array of sanguine battle, The quivering lance and glittering bayonet. Stand by the flag, all duubt and treason scorning, Believe with courage firm and faith sublime That it will float until the eternal morning Pales in its glories all the lights of time, JANE MONROE. Copied by permission of Wm. Haut & Son, Music Publishers, New York, 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 snaw— Oh, de prettiest gal I eber saw, Was charming Jane Monroe! Cuorvus—-But now she is far, far away, And we hear from her ebery day; And if she was here we'd have nothing to fear, For we darkies all lub her so gay. She was like a model, From her head down to her toe, And sprightly as de hopper grass, Was charming Jane Monroe. I'd rather be a slave for life, And hab de corn to hoe, Dan to be free, and lib widout My charming Jane Monroe. (CHORUS.) A darkey trader came one day, And bought my gal from me, And left me here alone to mourn Beneaf de cypress-tree; It fill’d my heart wid grief an’ pain, To think dey’d treat me so, But I live in hopes to meet again My charming Jane Monroe. (CHoRUs.) -e-e (Written for the Srverr’s Lisrary.] SALLY, MY DARLING. 4 lively End Song, written and sung by J. Grirrmy Harn. *Way down in Alabama, de place whar I did dwell, Dar use to be a. yaller gal whom I did love so well; But when de cruel war broke out I had to come away, I took my gal into my arms and unto her did say: CHORUS. Oh, Sally, my darling, I'll nebber see you more, For I’m gwine away in de great big ship dat sails for Baltimore. So come along, my darling, and don’t you stay away, For don’t you know we’re gwine to sail just at de broke ob day? Her eyes were like diamonds, her teeth were pearly white; Ebery time she smiled at me she filled me wid delight; She wore a dress ob yellow, all done up in blue, A jockey hat and feather and a number seven shoe. (CHO.) I hugged her, I kissed her, I told her not to cry, She throwed ‘both arms around my neck and kissed me in de eye; I told her dat I loved her, and eber true would be, But de captain made me jump on board and go upon de sea. (CHORUS. ) ba Pairs Ai irl kc el aol ak pat je, ee eli sin a aa et ah a ein pi ics pie rei poeta ang dain pati pias ees, Pains Ses oni i My Pretty Yorkshire Lass. Published by E. H. Harvie, 229 Bowery, N.Y. Music and words, 10 cents, Dear friends, I come before you now, My happy lot to tell, And sing about a pretty girl With whom in love I fell; She comes from out of Yorkshire, Her name is Em’ly Lee, About as nice a Yorkshire lass, As one would wish to see. Cuorus—Her eyes are like the little stars That shine so bright above, Her cheeks are like the red blush rose, And her I fondly love; She has pearly teeth and golden hair, A fairy she’d surpass, The pride of all the country is My bonny Yorkshire lass. Her father keeps a little farm, Not many miles from here, Among the flowers and in the dells, I roam with Em/’ly dear, Her sister, father, brother, Are happy as can be, But the pride of all the country is My little Emily. (CHoRUS.) o> —_—___—___ SONG OF THE FARMER. I have cattle that feed in the valley, And herds that graze on the hill, And I pride in the fruits of my labor, For I’m lord of the land that I till; I have plowed the rough hill and the meadow, Till feeble with age and with toil, And I know before long that another Shall reap the new fruits of the soil. For the son that hath toiled for me ever, And faithfully stood by my side, Hath a hand that shall gather the harvest When his feeble old father hath died; And the daughter, so kind to her mother, Shall share with him all I possess, For I feel that they love me as father, And welcome my tender caress, There’s my faithful, my trusting companion, My kind-hearted, dear, loving wife, I have toiled for her comfort with pleasure, For such was the pride of my life; And still in my manhood I love her, For her kind and affectionate care, And all that the earth can afford me, With her I most willingly share. ’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 ’'m growing, Molly dear, Molly dear, And I’m not myself at all. The 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, Moll7 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? ,Ob! I’nr not myself at all. THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. oe 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, ail 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. Pll 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 to the same; For if you and I were one, all confusion would be gone, And ’twould simplify the matter 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. Oh, Kiss, but Never Tell. Copied by permission of Firta, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. When love grows warm there is a charm, And oft a sacred bliss, When fond hearts greet for lips to meet In sweet affection’s kiss; But to reveal the sacred seal Which hallows it so well, May quench love’s flame with breath of shame, So kiss, but never tell. Cuorus—Oh, kiss, but never tell, oh never! Breathing breaks the spell. True lovers pledged to keep forever, Kiss, but never tell. At night when eyes like stars beam bright, And kindred souls commune, And heart to heart love’s vows impart, Beneath the smiling moon; At such an hour of magic power, What hallow’d raptures dwell, ‘i In each true breast by honor blest, To kiss, and never tell. {Written for the Smvarr’s Liprary.] GOOD-BY, LITTLE KATIE. As sung by G. F. Washington with the Original Buckeye Minstrel Troupe, Mobile, Ala. Good-by, little Katie; [ll leave you to-morrow To cross o’er the deep to the land of the free, Although Pll be lonely, P’ll banish my sadness, If you will be thinking of me. And, although each day I’ll be thinking of you, And longing with you, love, to be, Oh, give me thy kiss of love ere I leave you, To cheer me while across the blue sea. CHORUS. Good-by, little Katie; I'll leave you to-morrow To cross o’er the deep to the land of the free, Although I’ll be lonely, Pll banish my sadness, If you will be thinking of me. Good-by, little Katie; I’ll leave you in sadness; It is for you, love, I now must depart; If fortune will smile I'll be back in my gladness, When you will be nearer my heart. Oh, Katie, my darling! ob, Katie, my dear! ~ Oh, Katie, why don’t you come near? And give me thy kisses of love ere I leave you, To cheer me while across the blue sea? (CHORUS.) THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. Could’st Thou but Read This Heart Copyrighted by W. R. Drnnnorr. Published by Spxar & Dennnorr, 717 of Mine. Broadway, New York. Music and words, 40 cents. Could’st thou but read this heart of mine, Thou would’st not doubt my love for thee, Where ev’ry page and ev’ry line Is graven with my constancy; Its love for thee can never change, Whatever fate doth it betide, And tho’ sometimes it seems to range, It finds no other home beside. Cuonus—Ah! could’st thou read this heart of mine, Thou would’st not doubt my love for thee, Where ev’ry page and ev’ry line Is graven with my constancy; When pillow’d on thy swelling breast, Reposing sweetly, free from care, How fleet is time when thus caress’d By one who loves beyond compare; Fain would I linger there awhile To gaze upon thy matchless charms, And catch the beams of thy sweet smile, Nor dread the steps of love’s alarms. (CHORUS.) Could’st thou but read this heart of mine, Thou would’st not doubt my love for thee, Thy absence makes it oft repine To share thy soothing sympathy; And list’ning to thy well-known tread, It’s quick’ning throb thy presence greets, And tells thee that its page is read, Whene’er thy fervid glance it meets. (CHorRus.) I’ve Been Roaming O’er the Prairies. I’ve been roaming, roaming o’er the prairies wild, Plucking dewy blossoms, happy as a child; Casting care and sadness very far away, For the earth rejoices on this pleasant day. T’ve been roaming, roaming where the lilies sleep, On the tiny lakelet sparkling cool and deep, Where the brooklet singeth o’er the pebbles white, Making gladsome music glancing in the light. I’ve been roaming, roaming through the wildwood deep, Searching for the flowrets when the prairies sleep; In the tiny blossoms swaying to and fro, Whispering to each other very soft and low. I’ve been roaming, roaming o’er the dewy grass, Gemm’d with fairy blossoms waving as I pass, For the breeze was flitting o’er the grassy lea, Whispering many a story to the flowers and me; For the breeze was flitting o’er the grassy lea, Whispering many a story to the flowers and me. TERRY O'REILLY. Sure, Terry O'Reilly, I’ve waited, you know, And sure you're not coming like my own thrue beau; I’ve looked through the windy till each little pane, Is near hid by my tears like a shower of rain. Och, hone, Terry, come soon, Or else I’ll get married some fine afternoon. Sweet Terry O’Reilly, why keep me sighing? If I tarry longer, of grief I'll be dying; . Now, Terry, pray haste, and this heart give relief, Or faith, my dear Terry, I’ll soon die with grief. Och, hone, Terry, etc. Dear Terry O’Reilly, I ne’er was a flirt, - Still Terence is handsome, and he’ll gain my heart; Sure some one I must have, whose kindness will prove He’s devoted to me, and faith him I’]l love, Och, hone, Terry, etc. Now, Terry O’Reilly, I am tired of sighing, I’m wearied to death, sure, with fretting and crying; Vl marry to spite you, ma cushla, and part, With love for you, Terry, and so break my heart. \ Och, hone, Terry, etc. Time Alone Will Prove. Published by E. H. Harprve, 229 Bowery, New York. Music and words, 10 cents. Tho’ doing what we think the best, Tn life’s all busy throng, Tis time alone will prove if we Are right, or if we’re wrong; Our judgment’s apt to go astray, As in the crowd we move, We cannot read the future, no, Tis time alone will prove. Cuorus—Time alone will prove, As on thro’ life we move, We cannot read the future, no, Tis time alone will prove. That marriage is a lottery, ‘You'll own beyond a doubt; And woman is that sort of thing No fellow can make out: The men who choose a wife in haste Too often find they’re sold, But when they get a good one, they Have found a mine of gold. (CHORUS.) Too often we believe in those Who make the finest show, And take their glitter all for gold Before their worth we know; The gilt wears off, we find them out Aud somehow they suggest, The olden shows at Country Fairs, The outside is the best. (CHORUS.) New schemes are starting, every day There’s something new appears, Long legal cases too that seem As though they’d last for years; How all these things may chance to end The wisest do not know; So be content to wait and see What time alone can show. (CHORUS.) Broken-Hearted Tom, the Lover. I’m lonesome since I cross’d the seas, My mind is never aisy; No mortal sowl can give relaif— In troth, I’m getting crazy. The burning tears roll down me chakes, In faith, they nearly blind me; I weep and sigh, both night and day, For the girl I left behind me, The lovely lass I courted long, She lives in Tipperary; Her eyes were like the diamonds bright, And they call’d her black-eyed Mary. In summer’s night I took delight, Her beauty so inclined me, A thousand crowns I’d give to see The girl I left behind me. In foreign lands compell’d to roam, Yet often think of Mary: The black-eyed lass that won my heart That lives in Tipperary. On distant shores I weep and sigh, Without a friend to mind me; Bad luck unto the ship that sail’d And left the girl behind me. If e’er I Jand on Hrin’s shore, Pll haste to Tipperary; Within me arms I will embrace Me lovely black-eyed Mary.. With her I'll dwell while life shall last, For she’d roam the world to find me,, From Mary I'll not wander more, The girl I left behind me. me Pe KITTY TYRRELL. Copied by permission of Firta, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, publishers of the music. Yow’re looking as fresh as the morn, darling, You’re looking as bright as the day; But while on your charms I'm dilating, You're stealing my poor heart away. But keep it and welcome, mavourneen, It’s loss I’m not going to mourn; Yet one heart's enough for a body, So pray give me yours in return. Mavourneen, mavourneen, Oh! pray give me yours in return. Dve built me a neat lit le cot, darling, Ive pigs and potatoes in store; Pve twenty good pounds in the bank, love, And may be a pound or two more. It’s all very well to have riches, But I’m such a covetous elf, I can’t help still sighing for something, And, darling, that something’s yourself. Mavourneen, mavourneen, And that something, you know, is yourself, Yow’re smiling, and that’s a good sign, darling; Say ‘ Yes,” and you'll never repent; Or, if you would rather be silent, Your silence I'll take for consent. That good-natured dimple’s a tell-tale, Now all that I have is your own, This week you may be Kitty Tyrrell, Next week you’ll be Mistress Malone. Mavourneen, mavourneen, Youw’ll be my own Mistress Malone, ———- +04. Columbia Rules the Sea. Copied by permission of Frrru, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, 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 wave 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, Coiumbia 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 wind shall pipe her peans loud, The billowy chorus roar, Columbia free shall rule the sea Britannia ruled of yore, Ain’t I Glad to Get Out of the Wilder- | ness? Mousic— Tum, Tum, Tum, Tum, CnHorus— Ahaa—Ahaa—Ahaa—Ahaa. SoLo— ’Way down south in Beaver Creck, In Beaver Creek, in Beaver Creek, De niggers—dey grow about ten feet, *Way down in Alabam. CHorvus— Oh, ain’t I glad we got out of the wilderness, Out of the wilderness? Oh, ain’t I glad we got out of the wilderness, And left old Alabam? se [Symphony with dance as-above. } THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. Soro— Dey wet de ground wid bacca smoke, Wid bacca smoke, wid bacca smoke, When out of de ground dar heads do poke, ’Way down in Alabam. (DANCE AND CRORUS.) My wife’s dead, an’ I'll get anuder one, I'll get anuder one, I’ll get anuder one, My wife’s dead, an’ I'll get anuder one, ’Way down in Alabam. (Dancr anp CHORUS.) Soto— =I met a cat fish in de ribber, In de ribber, in de ribber, I golly, it made dis nigger shiver, ’Way down in Alabam. (DANCE AND CHoRus.) Soto— I steer’d right straight for de critter’s snout, De critter’s snout, de critter’s snout, Turned de cat-fish inside out, *Way down in Alabam. (DANCE AND CHORUS.) Soto— Oh, here we go now all together, All together, all together, Nebber mind de wind or wedder, *Way down in Alabam. (DANCE AND CHORUS.) Answer of Katy Darling. Oh, in beaven you will meet your Katy Darling, There my smiles you may ever more behold; I believed not you were false to Katy Darling, Or that your love had ever grown cold; Oh, no, I could not believe That my Dermot was untrue, No love was like the love of Katy Darling, Search the world you will find very few; I’m ever near you, dearest, When all is wrapped in slumber, Katy Darling Is watching by her dear Dermot’s side; Your loving and beloved Katy Darling, Her spirit will ever be your guide, When you kneel by the grave of Katy. Darling, Katy’s spirit will meet with you there; Dear Dermot, weep no more for Katy Darling, This bright world is free from all care; By my grave I see you weeping, In the silent, starry light; I long to have you with your Katy Darling, Happy you’d be with her this night; I hear you, dear Dermot, And every night by the grave of Katy Darling, She will meet you till you lie by her side: Then in heaven you will meet your Katy Darling Dear Dermot and his much-loved bride. I am a Freeman. : Tama freeman! ’Tis my boast and pride, The blue sky is o’er me, the dark soil beneath, And spreading around is the wilderness wide, My bath is the lake, my couch is the heath; My rod and my rifle my larder provide— Tama freeman! Tis my boast and my pride. Iam afreeman! True freedom is mine; I slay when I choose, yet spare when I will; For my food use the bullet, or cast out the line, But never, like fools, from wantonness kill. « My “roof-tree ” is lofty, my dining-hall wide— Tama freeman! ‘Tis my boast and my pride. The eagle above me soars lofty and free, He knows I’ll speed no bullet at him— He is game for a tyrant, but never for me, While he sits on his nest on that old pine limb. A life in the woods some men may deride, But freedom is there, my boast and my pride, I roam through the wild-wood or skim o'er the lake, My wreaths are of laurel, my plumes never fade; I sleep when the night falls, with the dawn am awake, To hunt the red deer while they feed in the glade, I’m joyous and free as a bird in the air— A son of the forest, a stranger to care. cnet, So tor ———<———$— OOS 0 OU aoa Ta THE SINGER’S. LIBRARY. 13 You May Look, but You Mustn’t Touch. Published by E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowery, New York. Music and words, 0 cents. When I was a boy, a mischievous elf, \ I'd a very bad habit of helping myself; | My mother put everything out of my way, | And well I remember these words she would say: CHORUS. You may look, but you mustn’t touch, mustn’t touch, Keep your hands off, you’re inclined to be a little forward, And must be subdued, You may look but you mustn’t touch, mustn’t touch, | Keep your hands off, Look at everything, but touch nothing, And don’t be so rude. At eight years of age, altho’ not a fool, I was sent every day to a little girls’ school, I romped with the girls and would not let them be, So the schoolmistress gave the old lecture to me: (CHo.)_ When I grew a young man, I loved a sweet maid; And altho’ she loved me, she was rather too staid; I dared not embrace her, or ask for a kiss, If I did, the reply from my love would be this: (CHo.) As we were engaged, I said no one could blame, So her scruples in that way I soon overcame; And the dear little creature I married one day, And if I want a kiss now, you'll ne’er hear her say: (CHORUS.) We now have a son, a clever young lad, The pride of his mother, the joy of his dad; He reads to his pa latest news of the war, Says the newspapers give this straight tip to the Czar. (CHORUS.) TOM BROWN. The King will take the Queen, And the Queen will take the Jack; And now as we’re together here, We'll ne’er a one go back. Here’s to you, Tom Brown, And with you Ill drink a quart; Here’s to you with all my heart, And with you I’!l spend a shilling or two, And thus before we part, | Here’s to you, Tom Brown. (REPEAT.) The Jack will take the Ten, And the Ten will take the Nine; And now that we’re together here, We'll take a glass of wine. Here’s to you, Tom Brown, etc. The Nine will take the Hight, And the Eight will take the Seven; And now that we’re together here, We'll stay till after eleven. Here’s to you, Tom Brown, ete. The Seven will take the Six, And the Six will take the Five; And now that we're together here, We'll drink while we're alive. Here’s to you, Tom Brown, etc. The Five will take the Four, And the Four will take the Tray; (three) And now that we’re together here, We'll stay till the break of day. Here’s to you, Tom Brown, etc, The Tray will take the Deuce, (two) And the Deuce won't take the One; And now that we're together here, We'll quit where we’ve begun. Here’s to, you, Tom Brown, etc. pees My Ain Fireside. Copied by permission of Frrrn, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. Oh! I[ hae seen great anes, and sat in great ha’as, ’Mang Lords and ’mang Ladies, a’ cover’d wi’ braws, At feasts made for Princes wi’ Princes I’ve been, Whar the grand shine o’ splendor has dazzled my een. CHORUS. But a sight sae delightful I trow, I ne’er spied, As the bonnie blithe blink 0’ my ain fireside, My ain fireside, my aine fireside, oh sweet is the blink 0’ my ain fireside. Ance mair, Heaven be praised, round my ain heartsome ingle, Wi the friends o’ my youth, I cordially mingle, Nae force now upon me to seem wae or glad, I may laugh when I’m merry, and sigh when I’m sad. CHorus—My ain fireside, etc. Nae falsehood to dread, nae malice to fear, But truth to delight me, and kindness to cheer; O’ a’ the roads to pleasure that ever was tried, There’s nane half so sure as ain’s ain fireside. Cuorus—My ain fireside, etc. My Boyhood’s Home. My boyhood’s home! I see thy hills— L see thy valleys’ changeful green, And manhood’s eye a tear-drop fills, Though years have roll’d since thee I’ve seen. I come to thee from war’s dread school, A warrior stern o’er thee to rule; But while I gaze on each loved plain, I feel I am a boy again. To the war-steed adieu—to the trumpet farewell— To the pomp of the palace—the proud, gilded dome: For the green scenes of childhood, [ bid ye fareweli! The soldier returns to his boyhood’s loved home. My boyhood’s home, etc. [Written for the SincEr’s LiprarRy.] “OH! PETER.” As written and sung by J. Grurrimy Hatt, in the character of “Pete,” in his original farce called: ‘‘The Bogus Talking-Machine.” White folks, if you will listen l’ll sing to you a song, If you will gib your attention I will not detain you long; I is gwine away from here to-day to try to git a job, Ob digging up potatoes on de ole Virginny sod. Spoxen—Yes, I told my gal dis morning, and she bu’st into a ribber ob tears and yelled: CHORUS. “Oh! Peter darling, Peter darling, don’t you go away, Ilub you, Peter darling, and I lubed you many a day; I lub your standing collar and your lubly chalky eye, Don’t leab me, Peter darling, for if you do I’ll die. “You will see anoder gal and wid her fall in lub, And den I'll go and drown myself in a washing-tub; Den my spirit will follow you in de night and day, ‘You better take my advice, and—Peter, don’t go ’way.” (CHORUS. ) Spoken—Den I said: “‘Nebber mind, you little dear, I'll soon come back to you, And bring you a nice new dress wid a pretty gaiter shoe; We will be happy den all ob de lib-long day, And den you will nebber hab to say: ‘Oh! Peter, don’t go ’way.’” Spokrn—Dis kept her quiet awhile, but all ob a sudden she yelled: (CHorus.) Now my song is ended, be generous in my cause, And if you have nothing else to give, just give me your applause; But I is gwine away from here, I want to hear you say, Ebery mother’s-son ob you, ‘‘Oh! Peter, don’t go ’way.” Spoxen—Yes, I is gwine now, and I want to hear you all say: ; (CHORUS. ) a 14 ~ Poor and Gay, or It Might Have Been W orse. Published by E. H. Harprne, 229 Bowery, N. ¥. Music and words, 10 cents. My old sire in Leicestershire, Kept a little farm, And tho’ our family was large, He shielded us from harm; And this is what he always said, When fortune was perverse, “Tt’s bad, my lad, but not so bad, But what it might be worse, It’s bad, my lad, but not so bad, But what it might be worse.” Cuorvus—I'll be jolly and say, P’m poor but I’m gay, And my heart is as light as my purse, For whatever my lot, It surely is not So bad but it might have been worse. When I left my father’s roof, To earn my daily bread, Misfortune put me to the proof, But steadfastly I said, “T have been taught that life is fraught, With trouble and reverse, And thus advised, I’m unsurprised, And know it might be worse.” (CHoRUs.) With hardy will I struggled, till Prosperity I knew, But Poverty again stepped in, And friends again were few; But still I wis for friends like this, I penned no mournful verse, No tear I shed, but sung instead, “T know it might be worse.” (CHORUS.) Contentedly I still progress, Although the way is rough, And if but little I possess, That little is enough. The old resource will always force My sorrows to disperse, For come what may, I still shall say “T know it might be worse,” (CHorvus.) natant Aptian Sparking Sunday Night. Sitting in a corner, on a Sunday eve, With a taper finger resting on your sleeve; Starlight eyes are casting on your face their light; Bless me, this is pleasant—sparking Sunday night! CHorus—Bless me, ain’t if pleasant, Bless me, ain’t it pleasant, Bless me, ain’t it pleasant, Sparking Sunday night? How your heart is thumping ’gainst your Sunday vest, How wickedly ’tis working on this day of rest! Hours seem but minutes, as they take their flight, Bless me, ain’t it pleasant, sparking Sunday night? (CHor.) Dad and Mam are sleeping, on their peaceful bed, Dreaming of tho things the folks in meeting said. ‘Love ye one another,” ministers recite; Bless me, Don’t we do it—sparking Sunday night? (CHor.) One arm with gentle pressure lingers round her waist, ‘You squeeze her dimpled hand, her pouting lips you taste, She freely slaps your face, but more in love than spite; Oh, thunder! ain’t it pleasant—sparking Sunday night? (Cxor.) But hark! the clock is striking; it is two o’clock, I snum, As sure as I’m a sinner, the time to go has CoME. You ask, with spiteful accents, if ‘‘ that old clock is right!” And wonder if rr ever—sparked on Sunday night! (CHor.) One, two, three sweet kisses; four, five, six, you hook; But, thinking that you rob her, give back those you took; Then, as for home you hurry, from the fair one’s sight, Don’t you wish EACH DAY was only Sunday night? (Cuor.) eB aR lie i SS ea TIVE SINGER'S GEBRARY. = aaa The Old Kirk-Yard. Copied by permission of Firru, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. Oh, come with me to the old kirk-yard, I well know the path through the soft, green sward; Friends slumber there we were wont to regard, We'll trace out their names in the old kirk-yard. Oh, mourn not for them, their grief is o’er, Oh, weep not for them, they weep no more, For deep is their sleep, though cold and hard Their pillow may be in the old kirk-yard. I know it is vain when friends depart, To breathe kind words to a broken heart; I know that the joys of life seem marr’d When we follow them home to the old kirk-yard. But were I at rest beneath yon tree, Why should’st thou weep, dear love, for me? I’m way-worn and sad, ah, why then retard The rest that I seek in the old kirk-yard? [Written for the Srverr’s LipraRY.] MOSES SOLOMON. Written and sung by Barnom, of Pittsburg. Airn—Sweet Camelia May. My name is Moses Solomon, und I keeps a cloding store, *Vay up here on Wylie street, de number’s 44; I sell old clothes und hats und t’ings, und plenty t?ings some moro De boss of all de cloding men is Moses Solomon. (Symphony.) (Symphony. ) Dat’s de coat for a fancy ball, Fits you like paper on de vall. Spoxen—Dere vas a man come into my store de oder day to buy a coat. I showed hima coat. I tole him it fit him like de paper on de vall und de skin of e cucumber. He says: ‘‘ How much is dot coat?” Itole him: ‘“ Fifteen dollars—not a cent less, I cross my breast; so help me Jiminy Christmas!” He says, ‘I vill give you five dollars for de coat.” I took him avay back in de back end of de store, und told him ina visper he could haf de coat for five dollars. He says, ‘All right, but vy dis myste- rious performance?” I says, ‘“‘ Do you see dot leetle man sittin’ in de front part of de store?” He said he did. Itoldhim, ‘ Dot lee- tle man is my broder. He’s got de heart disease. Ouf he vould hear you offer me five dollars for dot coat he vould drop dead!” Go all over de vorld, my frents, you'll find de Jew is all de same, mit a light in his eye vich seems to say: CHORUS. Sollika Vollika Mollika Suke is vat dey all do cry; Second-hand boots und shoes und clothes is vat I alvays buy; I alvays sell for cash, my frents; oh, how is dot for high? Make no mistake, my cognomen is Moses Solomon. I like to deal vid de countryman venever he comes to town; I fit ’em out from head to foot, you bet I do it up brown, For de general» excellence of my fits I haf gained me great re- nown; You'll find it best to come and deal mit Moses Solomon. Oh! you bet your life I know a trick, (Synyphony.) Dot coat it fits you awful quick. (Symphony. ) SpoxEN—A man came into my store de oder day to buy a pair of pants. He vanted a pair of plum-colored pants. I showed him a pair. He says, ‘You are a liar, Moses, dem is black pants.” Ishowed him anoder pair. He says, “ Vat you given me? Dem is vite pants.” I got me so mad I kick myself, and showed him anoder pair. Dot aggrawatin’ son of a gun looked at me mit disgust depicted on his classic countenhouse, and ex- claimed: “Moses, you’re off your nut! Vy, anybody mit half an eye can see dot dem is green pants.” Isays, ‘‘ Vat is de matter mit you? Didn’t you ask me for plum-colored pants?” He says, “T did.” I asked him, ‘ Vat isde color of de plum before it is ripe?” He says, “Green.” I tole him, “Dem pants ain’t ripe yet!” He took’em, I felt so good as he vas going oud, I com- menced to sing: (CHORUS.) My stock is of de finest, und I sell me terrible cheap; I hire two men to hellep me out; of money I make a heap. Ispend yust vat I have to, de rest I alvays keep, Dey all do ery, “ Dere’s none so sly as Moses Solomon.” (CHo. re t 7 ~~ er : Half-Dime Singer’s Library. Contents of No. 1. Angel Gabriel, Auld lang syne, A good time coming, Barbara Allan, Billy Larkin. y ee a ng ‘awa’ wi’ me, eer, ors cheer, * Clicqu - Co-ca-che-lunk, “Crooked whisky!” oom ane when breakfast is e R gree and English, i ny, ore happy, a, Heat her Jock, , I knew that I’was dreaming, > I muse on thee. Johnny, age been a bad boy, Juliana Jones, Jim, the carter aa irls alon , fill any flowing bowl, birth, me Graber’ 's boarding house, retty red rose, mort Baye. Poor J Pull Soon your vest, Put me in my little bed, ee Roll. mel eave ane cotton, 11 out! heave x Rhine vine Sharley, See that my grave’s kept green, Sweet by ani San tg a fone ier, ng, ie, sing, Ten minutes too late, ae mia in the moon is looking, or ie Twit two stools aman goes to the ground,” They all do it, The railroad engineer’s song, The nightingale’s trill, They borrow, but never return, The butcher boy, The hazel dell, The vacant chair, Tom Bowling, The ae bugle, The tempest, The drunkard’s raggit wean! ae stars, e Marseilles Ayr The old English squire, Inder the willow she’s sleeping, ‘Vhoa, Emma (new version), Whoa, Emma (original version), ‘ Why can’t I have a beau? ve ting for o will eae for mother now? Contents of No. 2 z eushla fal mochree, A motto for every man, Babylon is fallen, Beautiful Rose, Bitter beer, t Beside ee sweet Shannon. Captain 1 ee Gonstantinop! treats m spike ‘of the musketeers Captai Dandy ipa t, Dandy barber J. ee 4 Gentle Jennie Gra; George Constantine McKeown, \ Home agai, Her bright smile haunts me still, I'm looking at you now, I know when I’ve enough, é eon lonely since my ‘mother : Ima Sony John Chinaman, Jimmy’s wooing, Limburger sheese, i Tittle wa waxed mustache, : My vife is so awfully thin, ae May the best man win, Norah, the pride of Kildare, One by one they crossed the river, act Pull down the blind, : uit dat ticklin’ me, 4 -—-Rockaby, Lullaby, Rocka u Sweet vision of i ekin1ahood, Shall we ever meet a; Single blessedness a om _ Lhe fields of home, Ae : aes ieee of the Came-zon a ; The ¢ atytb in which it’s done, ae _ The five cent shave, 4 Ine merry widow, > aoe uae light guard, e pilot % : Ihe eracksman’ 's chant, Take it, Bob, . =e The heathen Chinee, f Dein The cork le The king’s pene: e Me’s, e steam arm, e sparkling solitaire, Tom’s aor Ee he: ioe ee fi; < Pe 4; Bees’: Vithin a ne DIES he nA gee t were all the oa without oa ou make me laugh, : ae See See kes curdad every ot 3 a Beadle’ s Contents of No 3. a Mea Rong, id Robin Hood, Bry ‘an O’Lynn, NS Grimes the rover, Bae le, cackle, cackle, Coaxing Bree, = be Camptown Father eo settle the bill, Good-by, God bless the Tittle church, etc Hildebrandt Montrose, He isn’t as rich as he used to be, He was such a nice young man, Human nature, Hail to the chief, I do feel so awfully loose, Is there any such place? {t’s nice, ll be watching for you at, ete. It’s naughty, but it’s nice, I love my native land, I’m in it, Juanita, Lager beer cores Little maid of Arcadee, Mary McGinnis, Mary of the wild moor, Massa’s in de cold ground, Mine host! mine host! come, etc. My brudder gum, Mary Avourneen, Nance Never despair. Our army and. navy of blue, Only a flower there, Old folks at home, Peter Gray, Pink dominoes, Rana says I may, white and blue, Sing! sing! sing! oe of the ethos oe of shillelah, Shall we know each other there? The Gainsboro’ hat, Terrance Muldoon, The fireman’s boy, The summer of eee The runaway mar The roast beef of old eae The timid awkward squad! The boulevard The low back’d car, The Campbells are comin’, The Yankee boy, The fighting dog, The brave old oak, The blarney, hen the flowers fall asleep, Wake! Dinah, wake. Why have my hg ones gone? Whisper it softl, Yankee ship, an a Yankee crew, Contents of No, 4. After pee tt rest, A starry night for a ramble, Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, Auld Robin Gray, Broadway promenade, Bashful young man, Blue-eyed violets, Bob Ridley, Down the Saeco lane she goes Darling ol Id stick, ‘Fifth avenue George,” Few days, Faded flowers. Good by. Ghanite i ood-by see you again, Hail, Columbia, ae Home, iueeee home, Hard In her u Tittle bed” we laid her, Lam waiting, Essie dear, “T cannot sing the old songs,” Johnny Morgan Little green vail, Looking back, Lather and shave, mone, Brady, - elly was a | Oh! you pretty Nas eyed witch, ‘Ou r boy! old Rosin the Beau, Over the left, Pop goes the weasel, Par excellence, “Put the brake on when, etc. ae ry O’Moore, Rosa Lee, : Ridin’ in’a railroad keer, Sparkling moselle, : rs hing with my girl, rene, gentle spring, 5 ar-spangled banner; The ifn ng of trumps, The ocean burial, The Brooklyn fire, The miller of the dee, The minute gun at sea, The other side of Jordan, The old oaken bucket which hung in the well, The rollicking old man, There are OE jralting for me, The monks of The fine old Ej neigh gentleman, The fine old Dutch gentleman, The fine old Irish gentleman, The spider and the fly, 3 ee a nothing succeeds like ucces The mocking bird, The eee servant girl, The Irish regiment, Whisperings of love, You never miss the water, etc. FIFTY OR MORE SONGS IN Contents of No. 5. Annie Laurie, A sailor’s life for me, Answer to Kate Kearney, A bit of my mind, A thousand a year, Buttercups and daisies, Bessy was a sailor’s bride, Battle of the ke; Be Be sure you’re r ght, Be kind to thy father at mother, Come to the ole gum tree, Call her back and kiss her, Come where the moonbeams, ete. Don’t pee, your mother-in-law, Eulalie, Flow gently, sweet Afton, Fair Rosabelle, Good news from home. Gentle Annie, Haunting eyes. He led her to the altar, I'll strike you with a feather, Isle of beauty, Inever refuse, Jocky hat and feather, ene and Jeannot, am Kitty Kimo, Kate Kearney, Lord Bateman and fair So My heart’s in the ar My dear old mothe: My eye and Betty Martin, No one to love, “Our laddio’s dead, Jem,” Oh! I shall call dada, Rather too “heavy” for me, Se I dreamed, love, y, bird of summer, River moonlight s a See Piper Heldesick, a Ship a-ho; Sword of "Bunker Hill, Since Terry first joined the gang, “ Strike the iron while it’s hot.” The star that leads to thee, The household clock, Tilda Horn, ‘Twas like a spirit’s sigh, "Twas rank and fame, The answer, The way to be happy, The pirate’s serena é, The belle of the ball, The sweet sunny smile, ete. Ten o’clock; or, remember, etc. The sea icing’ 8 burial, The old man’s got to go, To the love of my youth, etc. True blue, and seventy-two, eee ago, Uncle Woodman; spare that tree, Contents of No. 6, “A lock of my mother’s hair,” Alas! my love’s away, Answer to a thotieund a year, Away down East, A life on the ocean wave, Ada, with the golden hair, Ben Bolt, By the sad sea-wave oe hes eyes has that little maid- Base: ball! Beautiful dreamer, Boy with the auburn hair, Clear the way, Castles in the air, Dear mother, I’vé come home to a ie, Don’t you dare to kiss me, Joe! Evangeline, Finigan’s wake, “Free and easy,” George, the charmer, Her pretty, smiling face, I want to go home to mamma! I wish I was in Dixie’s land, I’ve only been down to the club, i or don’t think I shall “John, *'parleyeorn is a hero Keep on kissing me, HiGRing a man when he’s down, Katy did, Katy didn’t, Kind and true. Lanigan’s ball, Mulecahy’s home again, Miss Malony’s ball, My love is still the’ same, Merry little birds are we, Nelly a ay, Nelly Never Podiaict, never win: Over the mountain, Oh, merry hours! Poor Juney, Poor old slave, Roger O'Malley, k me to sleep, mother, Silver stars are softly ‘gleam- ing, song ‘of Blanche Alpen, Sweet Sere smo “The The little b blacksmith oR merriest girl that’s out, The eager ie gay at The female au “ Unsophisticate love,” rine. Walt till the moonlight falls on the water, EACH ISSUE. Contents of No. 7, Annie of the vale, Awfully awful, America, arnerioant vocal melody, Ss in the surf, Bear it like a man, Crazy Jane, Come, maiden, with me Dat’s der kind of mans I am, Dreaming and Sia ne Every inch a sailo: p — the riddle, birdie, Dar- He aciows how to do it, I Ra you'll be true to me, I hold the winning hand, r i remember you in my pray- ers, Jeremiah, blow the fire, Little diamond dewdrop, Like a Tur’ ae dene, I’m thinking of My peeey. little blonde, Marriage bells, Mr. Finagan, Never push a man because he’s of ne down the hill, George! beautiful George! Oni I’m going home, Pretty asa Sera “Pulling ard against streans, fd Pretty little primrose, Fe you have children of the your own. Spooniie on the sands, Speak to me, speak, Stick to your trade ‘and be true, The belle of Rockaway, That’s the ee for me, boys, Taffy was a Welshman, Take this letter to my mother, The blonde that never dyes, Tassels on the boots, The big sunflower, The rollicking rams, The Mulligan guard, The blue and the gray, Take your coat up to your uncle, The old folks are gone, The little ones at home, The belle of Pleasure bay, Uncle Sam’s farm. Winter—sleigh -beil song, What is home without a ‘mother, Wait for the wagon, Would you if you were me? ‘Widow Machree, Contents of No. 8. Awfully fly, “ Ain't eon u awful,” Brother’s ee g at the door, Bobbin’ arow oon sit by 2 my side, little dar- ng, Call me your darling again, “Come back to Erin,” HO Sopa ne pall, at gay old nigger ba! Dont give up oe ship, Good-by, lovely Lou, Happy Hezekiah, He isn’t_a marrying man, T’ll speak to you pera, weet I’m going home to Dixie. Isn’t he a darling? Jordan is a hard road to travel, Killarney, Kitty Clyde, Little more cider, La-de-da-de Micks, Minnie Dear, ee the eats a my guiding star, My & gal, al, Haan, Minnie Rooke, My little wife ‘ashore, Nobody’s darling but mine, Old Black Joe, Our girls, Only speak eee to me, On the beach at Long Branch, “Oh wouid I were a bird. Our captain’s last paris. One hundred ee Pat Roach at the play, Row, row your boa’ Sohaicy Gratzenstein, The finest police in the world! That’s the proper caper, The teetotal society, The ee oeenees for alderman, The peas widow, The little ones asleep, The city boliceman, Tra-la-la, George! The belle of the day, The dear little ahaxirock, There is no harm in kissing, The Irish emigrant’s lament, The harp a Di of Erin, Those dark e Up with the sare in the morning, Uncle Pomp’s See Gatayey Jerem Wait for the my of the vod Willie, we have missed y When the blossoms are write in the orchard, When Brown comes rolling hom would rt were with thee, Young fellah, you’re too fresh, Bold by all nowsdoalos, five cents each; or sent, post-paid, to any address, on receipt of six cents per copy. nt - Contents of No.9. Brother, tell me of the battle, P By de light of de moon, 5 Balm of Gilead, Casey’s whisky, \ Come home, father, Chickabiddy, r Dear old words, ‘ Dermot Astore, De ole corn mill, “De bad Bo! a Mic Fritz, wis Kehts alleweil! Good-n: ght, Hark! 1 = am angel sing, Hold the fort I'll meet oP on Broadway, I miss thee T wouldn't iff could, Kiss me again, Katy Darling, Kafoozleum, Katie Lee and Willie Gray, Kitty McGee. Keep a little corner In yoar heart for me, a on a balcony, Lora Val My sweet t Poly wo ‘Og, Merit commands suvcess, My own native land, My sweet girl, Not before Pa, dear, Our Mary Ann, Oh, let him rest, Pretty Jemim Playing in the aa young girl; eh )Du-da, da. She was clerk in a ‘candy store, Shakey Dinkelspiel, Still I love thee, Shells of the ocean, c The Hills of New England, The eoce he leads a happy life, The on the wire. The bell goes a- ringing for, etc. / The old folks we loved long ago, The bashful girl, ‘he gallant brigade The fejlar that aie like me, The bird so: 8 The¢ liamon ring, The old farm house. The old pla; ground, Up in a balion, Uncle ce the Yankee, “ wohste A os ‘nie, darling, When the little birds are sing in i garden! ow’re the divil, ny comes marching eto Will a monkey climb a tree? Yeur pocket-book is your, etc. Contents of No. 10. A eae Carey girl again, Bab, tooth! Billy a0 Sone ball, Breeze of the night, Colleen Avarra, t Coming home from the balA De gospel car, “ Douglas tender and true,” s Dark-eyed Norina, Dutch onion vender, a2 S Down the river, Eilleen Allanna, E Pluribus Unum. ‘don’t say no, | Farewell song of Enoch Arden, a / From Madison to Union Square, Ape ee ofa Beets py-go-lucky, Tok: 'g such a lovely waltzer! fer’ front name is “ Hannar,” Have you seen my sister? I’m the governor's son, It’s funny when you feel, ete. I’m leaving thee in sorrow, etc. Jack’s yarn, Kissing in the moonlight, Kiss me quick and go, “Little Barefoot,” Let me kiss him for his mother, Little LN May, Minnie Clyc My Heike Mollie Malone, May, Maggie by my my wide, Paddy’s the bo: Pretty blue- eyed belle, Rather too old for me, Susan Jane, Seer car yet, She’s handsome as a rose, The Hoolahan musketeers! “That’s what our papers say,” The door ajar, That girl across the wa; The fisherman’s daugh’ ere The lake-side shore, The grave of Bonaparte, ioe Three bells, x The Newfoundland dog, = The lass that loves a sailor, Victory at last, Why don’t you come and see me, What care I how fair she be?’ Walking down Broadway, = When the band begins to ‘play, ae Wi the blue, ‘on Where there’s a vill Brees ete. z Willie’lL — no more, ‘ BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 96 Wiliam Street, N.Y i, = Half Dime Singer's Library. s y [Beadle’s Contents of No. 11. Alma Mater O, All for her, An answer to “grease the grid- dle, Birdie Darling, Angels whisper, Baby mine; or, the sailor’s wife, Bright-eyed Livtle Nell of, ete. blind Orphan boy’s lament, Commence, you darkies all, Cushlamachree, “ Don’t forget the old folks,” Don’t mate a noise or else, etc., Darby M’Guire, Kileen Mavrone, Farewell, Kathleen, Guess what it is you can have it, Happy are we to-night, Tl) meet you in the park, I care not how fortune may vary Juliana Phebiana Constantina Brown, Live inmy heart and pay no, ete. Let me dream again, My fan, New England, Eee M’Shane, > ! Erin, my country, Old Grimes, Oh, see dat angel band, Over the river, Obey! obey! obey! Oh! Joe, Oh ye tears, Put by for a rainy day, Rambling thro’ the town, Say one little prayer in your, ete. She’s a wink and a smile that charms me! Stand by the poor, Silver threads aang the gold She suits me, down to the ground The lone fish-batl, The big bonanza, True to the core, The post-boy’s song, “The thin man,” The good cigar, The convivial man, The buckles on her shoes, “That gal o’ mine,” The tar’s farewell, The boys of Kilkenny, The ‘ast rose of summer, The age of progress, The emigrant’s farewell, Upside down, Virginia Belle, When these old clothes were new Who’!] have me? When I took our Nance to church We'd better bide a wee, We stand here united, “Yes, or no.” Contents of No, 12. A warrior bold, Ask me not why; or, the daughter of the regiment, Billy Barlow, “Billiards and pool,” Comin’ thro’ the rye, Dancing in the dreamy waltz, Dot leedle sofa, Gum-tree canoe, Glad to get home. Gal from the South, “Give over, John, Glory hatly, hallelujah; or, the John brown Song, ee Davy. “Happy dreams of you,” Hip, hurrah! hip, hurrah! Inever loved before. “Pm what you call a military man,”’ Judge not a man by his cloth- 9 Janet’s choice, Johnny Sands, “Tittle mountain daisy,” Little Rosebud, Love among the roses, Love’s chidings, Meet meat the lane, My father sould charcoal, My son Charlers My latest captivation, No letter yet for me No smoking allowed, Old Noah, We did build an ark, Oh! I’se so wicked! “Pull slow and steady, boys. Pray, have you a letter for me? Revelry of the dying, Song of the butterfly, She’s a gal o’ mine, The moss trooper, The rocky road to Dublin, The hero of the ring! Tally ho, The light in the window, There are friends that we never forget, The fairy queen, The rock of liberty, The belle of the avenue, The Pree of Killarny, The three black crows, Uncle Sam is brave and free, We can’t do without the merry chink, chink, chink! What makes ’em wiggle so? Wearing of the green, We are out on the ocean sail- in, where the water-lilies grow, We will hold our own, Winking at me. \ Contents of No 18. Blue glass, Come sit by my side, little, ete. Come into the garden, Maud, Colinette, Charlie de Rogers, Do not heed her warning, Erin is my country, Farewell, darling, He kissed her and she kissed him, His deeds be forgotten, Trish Molty, O, I think of old Ireland wherever g0; T thought she was an angel, It’s just my style, J wish he would decide, mamma, I want to go home, Kiss me! would you, “Keep studying,” Limerick races, My rattling mare and I, Never go back on your friend, Oh! Susannah, Our grandfathers’ days Oh, Barney avourneen, T will let you in, Polly Perkins of Washington, ete “Rival frogs,” St. Patrick’s day, Sometimes, She tossed her curls at me, Sweet love, when you are near, Still so gently o’er me stealing, See that my nose is kept red, The rollicking Irishman, The swell of the day, The black Hussavrs, The hat my father wore, That’s where you make the, ete. The Gipsy’s warning The Italian guinea-pig boy, Toss the Turk, The modern belle, The American boy, The Irish jaunting car, The dearest spot of earth, Tapping at the garden gate, The land of St. Patrick forever, The Waterford boys, Then you’\l remember me, The kiss in the street, The dear little damsel, The harp that once thro’ Tara’s halls, *Tis home where’er the heart is The dying Californian, Thou hast wounded the spirit, “The colored waiters,” The Dutch drum major, Vive la Bacchanal, ‘We met by chance, Yankee doodle, “You’ll sometimes think of me.” Contents of No. 14. Alls for the best, All round my hat, Brace up, Cottage by the sea, Don’t let the roses listen, Don’t be angry, mother, Every household has its angel, Five o’clock in the morning, Fill the cup, all jolly fellows, Grandmother told me so, In this beautiful dand of my, ete. I'd rather be a violet, I’m sure that I could do it, Iam not angry, I'd be a Gipsy, I dreamed my boy was home, etc I’m o’er young to marry yet, Jenny Brown and I, Johny was a shoemaker, Look before leaping, Letting the old cat die! Long, long ago My old Kentucky home, ete. My poor dog Tray, Maggie’s secret, Married soon we'll be, My girl with the calico dress, My home in Kentucky, Never desert a friend, Old dog Tray, Old dog Tray. No. 2. One sweet little wish, darling, Oh! take me to thy heart again, Our toast! Red, white and blue, Row, row, brothers, row, See if I’d get mad, Star of the twilight, Sea waves, She reigns alone, Stuffed goose, Tapping at the window, The ribbon of blue, There’s magic in your kiss, The farmer’s daughter, The Canadian boat song, The Glendy Burk, They say I’m a very tough man! The farmer sat in his easy-chair, The battle-cry of freedom, The Carbineer, We'd better be happy than rich! We all are growing old, What the papers say, What will Mrs. Grundy say? What are the wild waves saying? We can’t agree, We are growing old together, Willie’s on the dark blue sea, We are coming, sister Mary. We'll have alittle dance to-night, Oys. i ; 4 rene been a friend to me, You are an awful tease! >i FIFTY OR MORE SONGS IN EACH ISSUE. Contents of No. 15. A man’s a man for a’ that, Afloat on the ocean, Are thy dreams of me? A parody on Uncle Sam’s farm, A wot sheet and a flowing sea, Behind the scenes, B.ngen on the Rhine, Call me not back from the echo- less shore, Cease thy weeping, sadden’d, etc, Come sing to me again, Come where my love lies, etc., Cruiskeen lawn, Dare-devil Dick, Do a good turn when you can, Do they miss me at home? Ettie May, Get your head above the crowd! Give me the girl that is tender and true! Happy little violets, Harp of the wild wind, He had such taking ways, I wish I was in Dixie, No. 2, “ Mollie darling,” My mother’s Bible, Nora darling, Oh, whistle and I’ll come to you, Poor child of the drunkard, Ring the bell, watchman, Soda water, Something to love me, ee in the winter, Spee Take them away, they’ll drive me crazy! Teddy O’Neale, “The royal blue,” The moonbeam is kissing the, etc The farmer’s boy, The ae. recruit, The gay side of life, Thady O’Flinn, The Indian hunter, That soft, sweet waltz, The Indian warrior’s grave, The mother’s prayer, The blue Juniata, The little old woman, The way my daddy went! Too late to go to church, Tramp! tramp! tramp! Under the Starlight. Unfurl the glorious banner, Washington, star of the West, We all get jolly as the night, etc. We miss thee at home, We were boys and girls together, When my ship comes in, hen you wash a nigger white What the old cock sparrow said, ‘When the milk goes around, Whoa, Charley. Contents of No. 16. Alice Gray, A national song, Annie, dear, good-by, A national song, A twilight fancy, Barney O’Hea, Banks of the old Mohawk, Belle Brandon, Bonnie Jamie, Boid privateer, Bonny Jean, Comrades, touch the elbow, Come to me quickly, my darling, Darling Nelly Moore, Darling Rosabel, Dear little colleen, Down by the old mill stream, Fancy little step, Follow the drum. Give me a grip of your hand, Heather Dale Yd choose to be a daisy, Pll be a rambler no more, Til wait at the gate for thee, Pil hang my harp on a, ete. In this wheat by and by, Indian hunter, Is that mother bending o’er me? Ishouldn’t like to tell, Johnny is gone for a soldier, Linda’s gone to Baltimore, Listen, dear Fanny, Life is like a game of see-saw, Look always on the sunny side, Mabel Clare, Minnie Moore, Must we then meet as strangers? My dark-eyed Southern queen, My grandmother’s advice, My heart’s in old Ireland, Nancy Fat, Oh, send me one flower from, etc Old K. Y, Ky., Old sideling hill, Or any other gal, Pat Malloy, Remembered still, Somebody is waiting for some- body, Song of the sexton, Sweet Evelina, The Age column, The old cabin home, The unfortunate tailor, The scientific frog, The old brown cot, The American girl, Uncle Tim, the toper, Weep, Pompey, MOE We are all so fond of kissing, When Charley’s in the box, When the roses bloom, - ‘Will mother know me in the sky Zekel and Hulda. Contents of No. 17. Adream of love, Be kind to each other, Come sit thee down, Comic Katee Darling, Cora Lee, Comic parody, - Darting Jenny Bell, Dot holly-tree oudt. ‘ Give ’em string and let em went Go it while you’re young, Hoop de do di dum, Z “TI don’t have to.” " I Dave something sweet, to tell — u, ‘ Ihave no mother, now, Tl bet-you’d like to know, I’m dancing mad, I wandered by the brookside, John Jones, Just look at that, just look at Sy Kathleen Mavourneen, Lillie Bell, Little Katy, or hot corn, Little Moltie Brown, Mary Aileen, My dearest heart, My love, he is a sailleur boy, My mother dear, Nancy Lee Nancy Bell, or old pine tree, Near the little cottage door, Oh! Marigold, Oh! the sea, the sea, Oh: scorn not thy brother, One mure glass before we’re parting, Our boyhood days, Our fatheriand, Parody on “to the west!” Perhaps, Poor little Flo., Pretty Jane, She frow’d a kiss at me, Sparking Sarah Jane, Sweet Matilda Brown, The death of Annie Laurie, The fireman’s victory, The fireman’s death, The grave of ray ees The girl I left behind me, The home of the heart, The old whisky jug, The promenade elastique, The quilting party, The yellow rose of Texas, To the west. Vilikins and his Dinah! Waiting for the May, What other name than thine, mother, ‘When the good times come again While the gas is burning. Contents of No. 18. Ain’t I glad to get out of the wilderness? Answer of Katy Darling, Autumn leaves, - Ben Fisher and wife, broken-hearted Tom, the lover, Columbia rules the sea, Could’st thou but read this heart of mine, Daylight is on the’sea, De ingia-rubber nig Don’t you ery so, Norah, Darlin; Evening song to the Virgin, a sea Good-by, little Katie, Grandfather’s clock, Have I not been kind to thee? Iam a freeman, Ilove my love, I’m not myself at all, I’m the boy that’s bound to blaze I put my arm around her waist; ~ I’ve been roaming o’er the, etc. Jane Monroe, Jolly Jack the rover, Kato was once a little girl, Kitty Tyrrell, Look out for stormy wedder! Maud Adair and I, Man the tife-boat, Moses Solomon, My ain fireside, My boyhood’s home, My Hie oa Yorkshire lass, My styleis something new, My Susianna, O’Brien, keep off the grass! Oh, kiss, but never tell, “Oh! Peter.’ Poor and gay, i Pretty little Mary, or, chuck, etc. Sally, my darling, Somebody's courting somebody, Song of the farmer, Sparking Sunday night, Stand by the flag, Sweet the song of birds, Terr. ele The dashing U. 8S. marines’ march The farmer’s boy,. The gold digger’s lament, The little low room where I courted my wife, The old ae ~ ‘bond, Time alone will prove, Tom Brown, True blue is the color for me, Will ne love me just a little? Would I were a boy again, Would I were a ent again, — een aLey look, but you mustn’t ch, Sold by all newsdealers, five cents each; or sent, post-paid, to any address, on receipt of six cents per copy. : * : aE : Sete ie peer ; rated ees BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, | 98 William Street, N. xX . or <