Various

“ Unfurl the glorious banner, let it sway upon the breeze,
The emblem of our country’s pride, on land, and on the seas
The emblem of our liberty, borne proudly in the wars,
The hope of every freeman, the gleaming stripes and stars.
CHORUS.
Then unfurl the glorious banner out upon the welcoming air,
Read the record of the olden time upon its radiance there;
In the battle it shall lead us, and our banner ever be,
A beacon-light to glory, and a guide to victory.
The glorious band of patriots who gave the flag its birth,
Have writ with steel in history, the record of its worth ”

“ Then I’d take my darling Nelly Gray,
And we’d float down the river in my little light canoe—
While my banjo sweetly I would play.
Oh, my poor Nelly Gray, &c.
One night I went to see her, but she’s gone, the neighbors say,
The white man bound her with his chain—
They have taken her to Georgia for to wear her life away,
As she toils in the cotton and the cane.
Oh, my poor Nelly Gray, &c.
My canoe is under water, and my banjo is unstrung,
I’m tired of living any more:
My eyes shall look downward, and my songs shall be unsung
While I stay on old Kentucky shore. ”

“ And my mattock and spade have been active, I ween,
To fashion the grave so deep.
Ho! I laugh as I dig, for they all seek my aid,
To provide them a home with my mattock and spade.
The rich man hath pass’d me with towering head,
But I sang o’er his grave when the scorner was dead,
And laugh’d as I shovel’d the mold.
The hungry and wretched ne’er enter’d his door,
His heart never bled for the wrongs of the poor,
For the proud man well loved his gold.
Ho! I laugh’d as I dug, for they wanted my aid,
To provide him a home with my mattock and spade. ”

“ In the old church-yard in the valley, Ben Bolt,
In a corner obscure and lone,
They have fitted a slab of granite so gray,
And Alice lies under the stone.
Under the hickory tree, Ben Bolt,
That stood at the foot of the hill,
Together we’ve lain in the noonday shade,
And listen’d to Appleton’s mill.
The mill-wheel has fallen to pieces, Ben Bolt,
The rafters have tumbled in,
And a quiet that crawls round the wall as you gaze,
Takes the place of the olden din. ”

“ Cincinnati O owners of the copyright.
Though many and bright are the stars that appear
In the flag of our country unfurl’d;
And the stripes that are swelling in majesty there,
Like a rainbow adorning the world;
Their lights are unsullied as those in the sky,
By a deed that our fathers have done,
And they’re leagued in as true and as holy a tie,
In their motto of “Many in one.”
From the hour when those patriots fearlessly flung
That banner of star-light abroad,
Ever true to themselves, to that motto they clung
As they clung to the promise of God ”

“ The Rock of Liberty. Copied by permission of Russell & Tolman, 291 Washington St., Boston, owners of the copyright.
Oh! the firm old rock, the wave-worn rock,
That braved the blast and the billow’s shock;
It was born with time on a barren shore,
And it laugh’d with scorn at the ocean’s roar.
’Twas here that first the Pilgrim band,
Came weary up to the foaming strand;
And the tree they rear’d in the days gone by,
It lives, it lives, it lives, and ne’er shall die. ”

“ We are many in one where there glitters a star
In the blue of the heavens above,
And tyrants shall quail ’mid their dungeons afar,
When they gaze on our motto of love.
It shall gleam o’er the sea ’mid the bolts of the storm,
O’er the tempest, and battle, and wreck,
And flame where our guns with their thunder grow warm,
’Neath the blood on the slippery deck.
Then up with our flag, let it stream on the air,
Though our fathers are cold in their graves ”

“ Oh! ’tis dear in my memory still to me,
And my master, who lives in his own handsome halls,
Not so happy as then I could be.
Chorus.—There is my old cabin home, &c.
But that cabin is far, far away from me now,
I am far from the scenes that I love,
Far away from that wife who once heard me vow
That forever I faithful would prove—
My friends are still there, and still there is my child,
And still there, all in life, I must crave—
Still there is that mound, with its flowers so wild,
That covers my old mother’s grave,
Chorus.—There is my old cabin home, &c. ”

“ Then hail, dear Columbia, the land that we love,
Where flourishes Liberty’s tree;
The birth-place of Freedom, our own native home,
’Tis the land, ’tis the land of the free!
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,
The birth-place of Freedom, our own native home,
’Tis the land, ’tis the land of the free!
[Pg 38]
Root Hog or Die.
I’ll tell you of a story that happened long ago,
When the English came to America, I s’pose you all do know,
They couldn’t whip the Yankees, I’ll tell you the reason why,
Uncle Sam made ’em sing, Root Hog or Die. ”

“ Death has wed the little beauty, Belle Brandon,
And she sleeps ’neath the old arbor tree.
Repeat.—Death has wed the little beauty, &c.
[Pg 51]
The Dying Californian.
Lay up nearer, brother, nearer, for my limbs are growing cold,
And thy presence seemeth dearer when thy arms around me fold
I am dying, brother, dying, soon you’ll miss me in your berth,
And my form will soon be lying ’neath the ocean’s briny surf. ”

“ We’ll have a little farm, a horse, a pig, and cow,
And you will mind the dairy, while I do guide the plow.
Wait for the wagon, &c.
Your lips are red as poppies, your hair so slick and neat,
All braided up with dahlias, and hollyhocks so sweet,
It’s every Sunday morning, when I am by your side,
We’ll jump into the wagon, and all take a ride.
Wait for the wagon, &c.
Together on life’s journey, we’ll travel till we stop,
And if we have no trouble, we’ll reach the happy top.
Then come with me, sweet Phillis, my dear, my lovely bride,
We’ll jump into the wagon, and all take a ride. ”

“ New England, my country, I love thee for these.
The homes of New England, free, fortuned, and fair;
Oh, many a heart treasures its seraphim there,
E’en more than thy mountains or streamlets they please,
New England, my country, I love thee for these.
God shield thee, New England, dear land of my birth,
And thy children that wander afar on the earth;
Thou still art my country, where’er I am cast,—
Take thou to thy bosom my ashes at last.
[Pg 71]
The Old Folks we Loved Long Ago.
Battling with life,
’Mid care and strife,
The daily toils in hope I undergo ”

“ Finagan, My Eye and Betty Martin, My Love is a Saileur Boy, My Mother Dear, My Grandmother’s Advice, My Mother’s Bible, New England, Oh! I’m Going Home, Oh! Scorn not thy Brother, O! the Sea, the Sea, Old Sideling Hill, Our Boyhood Days, Our Father Land, Peter Gray, Rory O’More, Somebody’s waiting for Somebody, The Farmer Sat in his Easy Chair, The Farmer’s Boy, The Irishman’s Shanty, The Old Folks are Gone, The Post-Boy’s Song, The Quilting Party, Three Bells, ’Tis Home where the Heart is, Waiting for the May, We Stand Here United, What other Name than Thine, Mother? ”

“ But they cannot be compared with de old banjo,
On it I’ll end my song, and I’m not ashamed to deny
The title that I give it, boys, was—root hog or die.
Now I’ll tell you all, &c.
[Pg 42]
Twenty Years Ago.
I have wander’d by the village, Tom—I’ve sat beneath the tree,
Upon the school-house playing-ground which shelter’d you and me;
But none are left to greet me, Tom, and few are left to know
That play’d with us upon the green just Twenty Years Ago.
The grass is just as green, dear Tom, bare-footed boys at play
Are sporting just as we were then, with spirits just as gay ”

“ A Hundred Years Ago, A Lowly Youth, Anna Bell, Annie Lowe, Be Quiet do, I’ll Call my Mother, Bime, Bome Bell, Bonny Eloise, Carry Me Home to Tennessee, Ettie May, Far on the Deep Blue Sea, Fare Thee well, Katy Dear, Forgive but don’t Forget, Hope on, Hope Ever, I had a Gentle Mother, I’ll Dream of Thee no More, In the Wild Chamois’ Track, Keemo Kimo, Jennie with her Bonnie Blue E’e, Love Me little, Love Me long, Marion Lee, Mary of Lake Enon, Mary of the Glen, Mother, Sweet Mother, why Linger Away? ”

“ Dat’s what dey like, boys—root hog or die.
New York gals, &c.
I’ll go back to Alabama wid a head full of nollige,
And tell de folks dare I jis cum from college;
Dey’ll take me for a lord, or somethin’ else, I’m thinkin
I’se a mighty smart nigger, but I do my own drinkin’.
New York gals, &c.
[Pg 41]
Root Hog or Die,
No. 4.
I am de greatest little darkey on de top ob de earth,
New York is my home and de place ob my birth
I do ply upon de banjo, and dar I don’t deny,
I’m bound to be a sport, boys—root hog or die. ”

“ Spirit Voice of Belle Brandon, Squire Jones’s Daughter, The Bloom is on the Rye, The Blue Junietta, The Carrier Dove, The Child’s Wish, The Cottage of my Mother, The Female Auctioneer, The Irish Jaunting Car, The Lords of Creation shall Woman obey, The Maniac, The Merry Sleigh-Ride, The Miller’s Maid, The Modern Belle, The Mountaineer’s Farewell, The Old Mountain Tree, The Strawberry Girl, The Snow Storm, The Song my Mother used to Sing, Three Grains of Corn, Washington’s Grave, What is Home without a Sister, Where are the Friends? Why Chime the Bells so Merrily? Why don’t the Men propose? ”

“ From the great Atlantic ocean, where the sun begins to dawn,
Leaps across the Rocky Mountains, away to Oregon.
Chorus.—Come along, come along, &c.
The South may raise the cotton, and the West the corn and pork,
New England manufactories shall do up the finer work;
For the deep and flowing waterfalls that course along our hills,
Are just the thing for washing sheep and driving cotton mills. ”

“ Death came a knocking at de door.
Nelly was a lady, &c.
When I saw my Nelly in de morning
Smile till she open’d up her eyes,
Seem’d like de light ob day a dawning
Jist for de sun begin to rise.
Nelly was a lady, &c.
Close by de margin ob de water,
Whar de lone weeping-willow grows
Dar lib’d Virginny’s lubly daughter,
Dar she in death may find repose.
Nelly was a lady, &c.
Down in de meadow ’mong the clober,
Walk wid my Nelly by my side:
Now all dem happy days am ober,—
Farewell, my dark Virginny bride,
Nelly was a lady, &c. ”

“ And promised at the altar to love through life as now,
Say, Mary, when life’s sorrows came, did I forget that vow?
Your heart will own I left you, love, our fortunes to restore;
Then wipe away thy tears, Mary, for thy Willie’ll roam no more.
Chorus.—Thy Willie’ll roam no more, &c.
[Pg 14]
Kiss Me Quick and Go.
The other night while I was sparking
Sweet Turlina Spray,
The more we whisper’d our love talking,
The more we had to say;
The old folks and the little folks
We thought were fast in bed,—
We heard a footstep on the stairs,
And what d’ye think she said? ”

“ Alice Gray, America, Banks of the Old Mohawk Be Kind to Each Other, Billy Grimes the Rover, Bryan O’Lynn, Come Sit Thee Down, Cora Lee, Crazy Jane, Darling Nelly Moore, Darling Old Stick, Fireman’s Victory, Good News from Home, Good-Night, Grave of Lilly Dale, Graves of a Household, Home, Sweet Home, I have no Mother Now, I’m leaving Thee in Sorrow, Annie, I miss Thee so, I Shouldn’t like to Tell, I Wandered by the Brook-Side, Katy Darling, Kathleen Mavourneen, Little Katy; or, Hot Corn, Mary of the Wild Moor, Mable Clare, Mary Alleen, Mill May, Minnie Moore, Minnie Dear, Mrs. ”

“ A Dollar or Two, A Man’s a Man for a’ That, Angel’s Whisper, Auld Lang Syne, A Yankee Ship, and a Yankee Crew, Bashful Young Man, Call Me Pet Names, Camptown Races, Charity, Cheer, Boys, Cheer, Comin’ Thro’ the Rye, Der mot Astore, Dilla Burn, Down the Burn, Davy, Love, Dumbarton’s Bonnie Dell, Ever of Thee, Gum-Tree Canoe, Hark! ”

“ The great want of a MILITARY HAND-BOOK of General and Special Information on all matters connected with a Soldier’s Life and Experience, has induced the publishers of the Dime Publications to have prepared, by competent hands, a work which will fully answer the requirements of the market. ”

“ Oh, I’se left de folks at de old plantation
An’ come down here for my edecation.
Oh, Bob Ridley ho, &c.
De first time dat I eber got a licken,
’Twas down at de forks ob de cotton picken;
Oh! it made me dance, it made me tremble,
I golly, it made my eyeballs jingle.
Oh, Bob Ridley ho, &c.
New York City am a mighty fine one,
For beauty and location it ain’t behind none;
Oh! de ladies all look so sweet and gidley,
Wonder dey don’t fall in love wid old Bob Ridley.
Oh, Bob Ridley ho, &c.
[Pg 20]
Kate Kearney.
Oh! did you ne’er hear of Kate Kearney? ”