FOSTER, Stephen


Come with thy sweet voice again

Come with thy sweet voice again,

To my heart still dear,

Laden with soft, soothing pain,

Like a tear, like a tear.

Bright visions, long vanished,

Round thy melodies beam:

Lulled in the lap of thy sighs,

Let me dream, let me dream.

Come again! Come with thy sweet voice again!

Come, oh! come again!

Come with thy sweet voice again!

Bring not a language that tells

How the light hours roll:

Come with the music that wells

From thy soul, from thy soul.

Come not with bright off'rings,

Cold, unhallowed and new:

Bring but thine own gentle heart,

Ever true, ever true.

Come again! Come with thy sweet voice again!

…..


Ah! may the red rose live alway,

Ah! may the red rose live alway,

To smile upon earth and sky!

Why should the beautiful ever weep?

Why should the beautiful die?

Lending a charm to every ray

That falls on her cheeks of light,

Giving the zephyr kiss for kiss,

And nursing the dew-drop bright --

Ah! may the red rose live alway,

To smile upon earth and sky!

Why should the beautiful ever weep?

Why should the beautiful die?

Long may the daisies dance the field,

Frolicking far and near!

Why should the innocent hide their heads?

Why should the innocent fear?

Spreading their petals in mute delight

When morn in its radiance breaks,

Keeping a floral festival

Till the night-loving primrose wakes --

Long may the daisies dance the field,

Frolicking far and near!

Why should the innocent hide their heads?

Why should the innocent fear?

Lulled be the dirge in the cypress bough,

That tells of departed flowers!

Ah! that the butterfly's gilded wing

Fluttered in evergreen bowers!

Sad is my heart for the blighted plants --

Its pleasures are aye as brief --

They bloom at the young year's joyful call,

And fade with the autumn leaf:

Ah! may the red rose live alway,

To smile upon earth and sky!

Why should the beautiful ever weep?

Why should the beautiful die?


Hard Times Come Again No More

Let us pause in life's pleasures

And count it's many tears

While we all sup sorrow with the poor

There's a song that will linger

Forever in our ears

Oh, hard times, come again no more

'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary

Hard times, hard times, come again no more

Many days you have lingered

Around my cabin door

Oh, hard times, come again no more

While we seek mirth and beauty

And music light and gay

There are frail forms fainting at the door

Though their voices are silent

Their pleading looks will say

Oh, hard times, come again no more

'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary

…..

There's pale drooping maiden who

Toils her life away with a worn heart

Whose better days are o'er

Though her voice would be merry

'tis sighing all the day

Oh, hard times, come again no more

'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary

…..

'Tis a sigh that is wafted

Across the troubled wave

'Tis a wail that is heard upon the shore

'Tis a dirge that is murmured

Around the lowly grave

Oh, hard times come again no more

'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary

…..

Nelly was a Lady

Down on the Mississippi floating,

Long time I travel on the way.

All night the cottonwood a-toting,

Sing for my true love all the day.

Now I’m unhappy, and I’m weeping,

Can’t tote the cottonwood no more;

Last night, while Nelly was a-sleeping,

Death came a-knocking at the door.

Nelly was a lady.

Last night, she died.

Toll the bell for lovely Nell,

My dark Virginny bride.

When I saw my Nelly in the morning,

Smile till she opened up her eyes,

Seemed like the light of day a-dawning,

Just ‘fore the sun begin to rise.

Down in the meadow, ‘mong the clover,

Walk with my Nelly by my side;

Now all them happy days are over,

Farewell, my dark Virginny bride.

Nelly was a lady.

…..

Some folks

Some folks like to sigh

Some folks do, some folks do

Some folks long to die

But that's not me nor you

Long live the merry, merry heart

That laughs by night and day

Like the Queen of Mirth

No matter what some folks say

Some folks fear to smile

Some folks do, some folks do

Others laugh through guile

But that’s not me nor you

Long live the merry, merry heart

…..

Some folks fret and scold

Some folks do, some folks do

They'll soon be dead and cold

But that's not me nor you


Gentle Annie

Thou will come no more, gentle Annie,

Like a flower thy spirit did depart;

Thou art gone, alas! like the many

That have bloomed in the summer of my heart.

Shall we never more be hold thee;

never hear thy winning voice again

When the Spring time comes, gentle Annie,

When the wild flowers are scattered o`er the plain?

We have roamed and loved mid the bowers

When thy downy cheeks in their bloom;

Now I stand alone mid the flowers

While they mingle their perfumes o`er thy tomb.

Shall we never more be
…..

Ah! the hours grow sad while I ponder

Near the silent spot where thou art laid,

And my heart bows down when I wander

By the streams and the meadows where we strayed.

Shall we never more be
…..


Jeanie with the light brown hair

I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,

Borne, like a vapor on the summer air;

I see her tripping where the bright streams play,

Happy as the daisies that dance on her way.

Many were the wild notes her merry voice would pour.

Many were the blithe birds that warbled them o'er:

Oh, I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,

Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.

I long for Jeanie with a day-dawn smile,

Radiant in gladness, warm with winning guile;

I hear her melodies, like joys gone by,

Sighing round my heart over the fond hopes that die:—

Sighing like the night wind and sobbing like the rain,—

Wailing for the lost one that comes not again:

Oh, I long for Jeanie, and my heart bows low,

Never more to find her where the bright waters flow.

I sigh for Jeanie, but her light form strayed

Far from the fond hearts round her native glade;

Her smiles have vanished and her sweet songs flown,

Flitting like the dreams that have cheered us and gone.

Now the nodding wild flowers may wither on the shore

While her gentle fingers will cull them no more:

Oh, I sigh for Jeanie with the light brown hair,

Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.

Beautiful Dreamer

Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,

Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;

Sounds of the rude world, heard in the day,

Lull'd by the moonlight have all passed away!

Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,

List while I woo thee with soft melody;

Gone are the cares of life's busy throng,

Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea,

Mermaids are chanting the wild lorelei;

Over the streamlet vapors are borne,

Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.

Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,

E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;

Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,

Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

Oh Susanna

I came from Alabama,

With a banjo on my knee,

I’m going to Louisiana,

My true love for to see.

It rain’d all night the day I left,

The weather it was dry,

The sun so hot I froze to death,

Susanna, don’t you cry.

Oh! Susanna,

Oh don’t you cry for me,

coz’ I’ve come from Alabama,

With my banjo on my knee

I jumped aboard the telegraph,

And trabbled down the river,

The electric fluid magnified,

And killed five hundred nigger.

The bullgine bust,

the horse run off,

I really thought I’d die;

I shut my eyes to hold my breath,

Susanna don’t you cry.

Oh Susanna

…..
I had a dream the other night,

When every thing was still

I thought I saw Susanna

A coming down de hill;

The buck-wheat cake was in her mouth,

The tear was in her eye;

Says I, “I’m coming from the South,

Susanna, don’t you cry.”

Oh! Susanna

…..
I soon will be in New Orleans,

And then I’ll look all round,

And when I find Susanna,

I will fall upon the ground.

and if I do not find her,

This Darkie’ll surely die,

And when I’m dead and buried,

Susanna, don’t you cry.

Oh! Susanna
…..


Old Black Joe

Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay,

Gone are my friends from the cotton fields away,

Gone from the earth to a better land I know,

I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe".

I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low;

I hear those gentle voices calling, "Old Black Joe".

…..

Why do I weep when my heart should feel no pain?

Why do I sigh that my friends come not again,

Grieving for forms now departed long ago?

I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe".

I'm coming, I'm coming,
…..

Where are the hearts once so happy and so free?

The children so dear that I held upon my knee,

Gone to the shore where my soul has longed to go.

I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe".

I'm coming, I'm coming,
…..


My old Kentucky Home, good-night!

The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home,

'Tis summer, the darkies are gay,

The corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom

While the birds make music all the day.

The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,

All merry, all happy and bright:

By'n by Hard Times comes a knocking at the door,

Then my old Kentucky Home, good night.

Weep no more, my lady, oh! weep no more today!

We will sing one song

For the old Kentucky Home,

For the old Kentucky Home, far away.

They hunt no more for the possum and the coon

On the meadow, the hill and the shore,

They sing no more by the glimmer of the moon,

On the bench by the old cabin door.

The day goes by like a shadow o'er the heart,

With sorrow where all was delight:

The time has come when the darkies have to part,

Then my old Kentucky Home, good-night!

Weep no more, my lady

…..

The head must bow and the back will have to bend,

Wherever the darkey may go:

A few more days, and the trouble all will end

In the field where the sugar-canes grow.

A few more days for to tote the weary load,

No matter 'twill never be light,

A few more days till we totter on the road,

Then my old Kentucky Home, good-night!

Weep no more, my lady

…..