-0 -- _i* w A H j -4 vV J ~~* = _, , =4 / CHORUS. say, does that 2. 'Tis tne star span - gled 3, 4. And the star span - gled 5. And the star span - gled star span - gled ban - ner yet ban - ner, Oh! long may it ban - ner in tri - umph doth ban - ner in tri - umph shall ' S b i 5EET=E-IE^E5FiE E* ~^7^I ^.9 J^ STAB-SPANGLED BANNER. 595 1,2,3,4. wave, O'er the land 5. wave, While the land of the of the free free and the home of is the home of the the brave! brave ! ig^E i And where is that band who so vauntingly swore, 'Mid the havoc of war and the battle's confusion, A home and a country they'd leave us no more? Their blood has wash'd out their foul footsteps' pollution , No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave, And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave, O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. Oh thus be it ever when freemen shall stand Between their loved home and the war's desolation ; Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heaven-rescued land Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation. Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, And this be our motto, " In God is our trust," And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave, While the land of the free is the home of the brave. MY COUNTRY, 'TIS OF THEE. THE author of the words of "America" is SAMUEL FRANCIS SMITH, D.D., who was born in Boston, October 21, 1808, and was for many years pastor of the First Baptist Church in Newton, Mass. Since his resignation he has been devoted to literary and religious pursuits. It is of him that Oliver Wendell Holmes says, in his poem entitled " The Boys : "And there's a nice fellow of excellent pith, Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith, But he shouted a song for the brave and the free, Just read on his medal, ' My Country, of thee ! ' " In a letter dated Newton Centre, Mass., June 11, 1861, Dr. Smith says: "The song was written at Andover during my student life there, I think in the winter of 1831-2. first used publicly at a Sunday-school celebration of July 4th, in the Park Street Boston I had in my possession a quantity of German song-books, from which I selecting such music as pleased me, and finding ' God save the King/ I proceed* it the ring of American republican patriotism." 596 OUE FAMILIAR SONGS, ic^r- j -j 1 i N __i _ -4 4 w 4 '^ ' [ ] p ^ 1. M 2. M -m ^ j~ j w .1. g- y coun - try I 'tis y na - tive coun ' _3 T~ * ' : :-^=- of thee, g try! thee, 1 -0 -0 _}. weet land of Li ..iii'l of the no =* ^ ^-fc-E 3 b - er ty, ble free, 1 J H : .. - t - -f. \ ' ' 1 ' | Hh | ^ i p. ^ 1 } w if i i r j i 10 * f - - j -i * i_l H - - f 5 _ J m ' '0, f/_f5 M J ,-0 * f f * s ' * 9 V" 12 ^ j 5 ' ""4- \ \ Of Thy i > CS thee I sing ; lame I love ; Land where I love 1 * my fa - there diec thy rocks and rills ; Land of the , Thy woods and 1 __j 1 ^ L_ __p 1 -] ^L#_^ I i i i -j-f 4-^ 9 1 *-^ i- =qa $& * ' * 1- * * * \ 0-. J \ P t 2 N ^ N h ^ h ^ -f*- | js S M f- -f-1 fny^A* H i < ^ ^ M * i -^ 4 d- *-* ' * 0^ * ' j ("Will you walk in - to my par- lor?" said a on - ly got to pass your head with - 2 f "Will you grant me one sweet kiss?" said the " ( if, per-chance our lips should meet, a L_y_ ^_ spi - der in side spi - der wa - ger . f- N=^ to a fly, " Tis the of the doo'r, You'll to the fly ; " To I would lay, Of - feX b 4 i p : ? S f $ $ S ? : ~^T f t y V V _^ (^ ^ X S N V- \ I I \f i K t tc= H IS , pret - tiest lit tie par - lor that see so ma - ny cu - rious things you taste your charm- ing lips I've a ten to one you woula not oft - en I* 1* ( 1*' "l* r* 1* g-b f- f- " ev - er you nev er saw cu - ri - os let them come * 0. 0. did spy; You have be fore; Omit Id time. i - ty; But. a - way, Omit 2d time. d H? 5 X 5 5 5 6 i p U 'V J Will = 9 Jf. -J. you, will you, will you, will you walk in, Mis - ter Flyf ?" t . 0- r* -m 600 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. f\ " h K i is -3 f J P 1 II j < i ^ J -T- J 9 * 1 J J H J j ill y P 1 ou, wi J=f 11 you, w ill you, will you -0- /~* i==g= V g t walk in, Mis - ter Flyf' j r j f ^ u p i? 7 1 ^ -& -^ ? t: J F 1- "For the last time, now, I ask you, will you walk in, Mister Fly?" " No ; if I do, I may be shot, I'm off so now, good bye ! " Then up he springs, but both his wings were in the web caught fast. The spider laughed, " Ha, ha, my boy, I've caught you safe at last." " Will you, will you," etc. Now all young men, take warning by this foolish little fly, For pleasure is the spider's web, to catch you it will try; And although you may think that my advice is quite a bore, You're lost if you stand parleying outside of pleasure's door. " Will you, will you," etc. " Will you walk into my parlor?" said a spider to a fly ; 'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy. The way into my parlor is up a winding stair, And I have many curious things to show when you are there." " Oh no, no ! " said the little fly, " to ask me is in vain ; For who goes up your winding stair, can ne'er come down again." " I'm sure you must be weary with soaring up so high ; Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the spider to the fly. "There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin; And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in." " Oh no, no ! " said the little fly, "for I've often heard it said, They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed." Said the cunning spider to the fly, " Dear friend, what shall I do, To prove the warm affection, I've always felt for you? I have, within my pantry, good store of all that's nice ; I'm sure you're very welcome will you please to take a slice?" "Oh no, no ! " said the little fly, "kind sir, that cannot be ; I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see." "Sweet creature," said the spider, "you're witty and you're wise; How handsome are your gauzy wings ! how brilliant are your eyes \ I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf; If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself." " I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say, And bidding you good morning, now, I'll call another day." The spider turned him round about, and went into his den, For well he knew the silly fly would soon be back again ; So he wove a subtle thread in a little corner sly, And set his table ready to dine upon the fly. He went out to his door again, and merrily did sing, " Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing ; Your robes are green and purple, there's a crest upon your head; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, hut mine are dull as lead." THE SPIDER AND THE FLY. Alas, alas ! how very soon this silly little fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by: With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then nearer, nearer drew Thought only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue ; Thought only of her crested head, poor foolish thing ! At last Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast. He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den Within his little parlor but she ne'er came out again ! And now, dear little children, who may this story read, To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you, ne'er give heed: Unto an evil counsellor close heart and ear and eye, And learn a lesson from this tale of the spider and the fly. THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. THE author of the words of the following song, ALISON KUTHERFURD, was born at Fairnalee, Selkirkshire, Scotland, 1712. In writing to the Kev. Dr. Douglas, she says: "I can this minute figure myself running as fast as a greyhound, in a hot summer day, to have the pleasure of plunging into the Tweed to cool me. I see myself wrapt in my petticoat, on the declivity of the hill at Fairnalee, letting myself roll down to the bottom, with infinite delight. As for the chase of the silver spoon at the end of the rainbow, nothing could exceed my ardor, except my faith which created it. I can see myself the first favorite at Lamothe's dancing, and remember turning pale and red with the ambition of applause. I am not sure if ever I was so vain of any lover or admirer as I was of the heavenly affection of your predecessor, whom, by his own assignation, I rode over from Fairnalee at six in the morning to meet. * * * He embraced me with fervor, and said I would not repent losing some hours sleep to see for the last time an old man, who was going home. He naturally fell into a description of his malady, checked himself, and said it was a shame to complain of a bad road to a happy home ; ' and there ' said he, < is my passport/ pointing to the Bible; Met me beg, my young friend, you will study it: you are not yet a Christian, but you have an inquiring mind, and cannot fail to become one.'" Miss Eutherfurd was one of the beauties of the circle that counted among its members Lady Anne Lindsay and Jane Elliot, of Minto. Her correspondence shows her to have been a brilliant and noblewoman. In 1731 she married Patrick Cockburn, of Ormiston. Of this event she afterward wrote: "I was married, properly speaking, to a man of seventy, five my father-in-law" [step-father J ; and at another time she says: " I was twenty years united to a lover and a friend." Mrs. Cockburn was forty-one years old when her husband died, and her house in Edinburgh was the gathering-place for some of the finest literary minds of the day. She died in that house, November 22, 1794. There was a tradition in the family that Mrs. Cockburn's song, "The Flowers of the Forest," was in some way connected with the name or fate of a young lover who died about the time she was married. The song was supposed to refer to the noblemen who fell at Flodden, and with them many of the most gallant archers of The Forest," the home of Mrs. Cockburu, in Selkirkshire. Mr. Chambers, an intimate friend of Mrs. Cockburn, it an account of her says the song was occasioned -by a commercial disaster, by which seveu noblemen of the Forest were rendered insolvent in one year; but Mrs. Cockburn s corres* 602 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. pondence seems to indicate that the verses she wrote for the occasion were different, and that this song was written long before the financial calamity, and did refer to the eventful battle of Flodden. Mrs. Cockburn's song has been spoken of in some collections, as an imitation of Jane Elliot's " Flowers of the Forest." The fact is, Mrs. Cockburn's song was written many years earlier than that of Miss Elliot, who was fifteen years her junior. The air to which the words were first set was three centuries old. but it has been superseded by a more modern one. .* Larghetto 1. I've seen the smil - ing 2. I've seen the morn - ing of with for - tune be - guil - ing, I've gold the hills a - dorn - ing, And m -- i 3=* IP -e- f=T r felt all its fa-vors, and found its de-cay; loud tempests storm-ing be - fore the mid-day; Sweet was her bless-ing and I've seen Tweed's silver streams,glit- t w I Z=|g- _J u *a- T^=^ T r-* kind her ca - ress- ing, But now they are fled, they are t'ring in the sunny beams,Grow drum - lie and dark as they fled roll'd far a-way. on their way. ^ P ^^ I've seen the for - est a - dorn - ed the fore-most, Wi' flow'rs o' the fair - est baith O fick - le for - tune I why this cru-el sport -ing? Oh! why thus per-plex us poor THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. 5=1 603 now they are with - er'd flow'rs o> the for - est and are wede wede a - way. a - way. A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT. IN the letter to Mr. Thomson, the Scottish song-collector, which accompanied the first copy of his song " A Man's a Man for a' That," BURNS wrote : A great critic, Aiken, on songs, says that love and wine are the exclusive themes for song- writing ; the following is one on neither subject, and consequently is no song, but will be allowed, I think, to be two or three pretty good prose thoughts inverted into rhyme." The world had decided against Mr. Aiken, and Beranger, who is called the Burns of Prance, used to say that this song was not a song for one age, but for an eternity. It seems to me that Burns describes it correctly. jtt. > 2 |N . .- |* J JS- -r J ^ f f-i * : N- h N ^~. m T K- 1. Is there for lion- est 2. What though on hamely 3. Ye see yon birk - ie, -0-b-n r ^ ' 1 i-J -^ UH-U % ' JH-^ ^ J-I-T jj pov - er - ty That hangs his head, an' a' that? The cow-ard slave we fare we dine,Wear hod-den-gray, and a' that, Gie fools their silks, and ca'ed a lord, Wha struts and stares, and a' that, Tho' hundreds worship p-T . 1 ] -^ 1 ( F?= =4= F3== =^q J J ' ^^=4_ ._^ j -t\ ^ -a s -*-: ! 3 J 9 9 m * * m * -4 i H b ^ - F 1 =t==f= \ -L ^ , ^ ^ 1 . 604 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. iy i " Ps 2 ff 1 9. y N-|- --**- m' f -i I EC f i pass him by, We daur be puir for a' that. For knaves their wine ; A man's a man for a' that. For at his word, He's but a coof for a* that. For a' that, and a' a' that, and a' a' that, and a' ^ ix j that, Our that.Their that, His (pil Wnr-S - =jt= -q J d - -i IH 9 ^^ J r * ; J , 9 F j frrr ~J b ^ 9 1 *fr \< f f- g r- * J ^[-/ W I' yf if V L " I/ i toils obscure, and a' tin - sel show and a' rib-bon, star, and a' Q h J ,- 1 that; The rank is but the guinea's stamp,The man's the gowd for a' that, that, The hon-est man, tho' e'er sae puir, Is king o' men for a' that, that, The man of in - de-pend-ent mind Can look and laugh at a' that. ^ r~ M 2 "l~=i SF S 5 *-=- 5 9 f -i i ty , v. . f . . ,-* ^ r^- 9 >> fefi\ f M . t f~~=i r ~~r t H *-*b- * ,-: ~9 E V- -V- -f-^- A king can mak' a belted knight, A marquis, duke, and a' that; But an honest man's aboon his might, Gude faith, he maunna fa' that! For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities and a' that, The pith o' sense, the pride o' worth, Are higher ranks than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that, That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree and a' that. For a' that, and a' that, It's comin' yet for a' that, When man to man, the warld o'er, Shall brothers be for a' that. THERE'S A GOOD TIME COMING. JOHN BLACK, long and widely known as editor of the London Morning Chronicle, writing to CHARLES MACZAY, says : " I think I have heard during the last half-dozen years your song of ' There's a good time coming/ oftener sung by the people, than I have ever heard any one song sung during the course of my life." At the close of Mackay's first visit to America, Oliver Wendell Holmes addressed to him the exquisite poem beginning: " Brave singer of the coming time, Sweet minstrel of the joyous present, Crowned with the noblest wreath of rhyme, The holly-leaf of Ayrshire's peasant, Good bye ! Good bye ! Our hearts and hands, Our lips in honest Saxon phrases, Cry, God be with him, till he stands His feet among the English daisies I " /L E=a j> a: N K J J 1 { k. J J J * J 1 fm * 4 9 ( p m. ' * !f m * fin "* J J 5 1, 2. There's a good time cora-ing, boys, A good time ! ' i h coming, There's a good time - ~ i ~T ' ! J ""] 1 L__L f p=r r i ! ^ J * j -f 1 Ti 1 ' J - h i t ^ ^ * 4 i j.. ,. * -^ \ r -j ' i THERE'S A GOOD TIME COMING. 605 corn-ing, boys, Wait a lit- tie long - er.fWe may not live to see the dav, But { The pen shall su - per - sede the sword.And ad lib. ^=qg=HE^^-^-^ JJ -ELjl ._ a a 1 ~* M * -v ^ * L 4-H - 5 J__ earth shall glis- ten in the ray Of the right, not might, shall be the lord In the i - i ft l_|t " "g p =j J J .^J- * J C C C C good time coming, Can-non balls may good time coining. Worth, not birth, shall ^ 1 g- . = -V-, =S= & t f * f \T ,1 H =] : 3F=^ f iry- P'l 1- w 5 f m si -^ " N FSp C=l ' ' ! ' ' j i J H -J J- ~l< jt 1 ^=grrt^-^ aid the truth, But thought's a wea-pon strong -er; We'll win our bat - tie by its aid, rule man-kind, And be acknowledged strong - er;The prop-er im - pulse has been giv-en, pm W M ^ ad lib. tempo. S Wait a lit - tie long- er. Ohl There's a good time coming, boys, A good tini. . . ^3 606 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. o > r~ ir'? i-^ i i " p com- ing, There's a good time com - ing, boys, Wait a lit - tie long - or. i f=f ^^ There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming : Hateful rivalries of creed, Shall not make their martyrs bleed, In the good time coming. Religion shall be shorn of pride, And flourish all the stronger; And charity shall trim her lamp Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming; War in all men's eyes shall be A monster of iniquity, In the good time coming. Nations shall not quarrel, then, To prove which is the stronger; Nor slaughter men for glory's sake Wait a little longer. CALLER HERRIN'. THIS song of LADY NAIRNE'S illustrates the power of imagination in an odd way. Lady Nairne kept her authorship scrupulously concealed, and she sent this song tu its destination by the only friend who was in her secret. It was written for the benefit of Nathaniel Gow, a musical composer, son of the celebrated Neil Gow. He did not know ii> source, and as the song, set to an air which his father had made, became a favorite where- ever the musician played it, there was much speculation as to its origin. The whole pro- duction was attributed to Neil Gow, and accounted for by the story that it was suggested t -J=3=*= New drawn frae the Forth, Wha'll buy my cal - ler her-r in'? They're no brought here without brave darin', ^ !,<-' fr^j. 608 OtfB FAMILIAR SONGS. a=f-tf=: +-^r *=$=&-+-*== -_?n5_s Buy my cal- ler her - rin', Ye lit -tie ken their worth. Wha'll buy my cal - ler her- rin'? O dim. z ye may ca' them vul -gar fa - rin' Wives and mith -ers maist despair-in', Ca' them lives o' men. :=4=: =--f 3_s ; * ^^ b^J-y-J--*^ -^- b: This recalls the following anonymous Scottish poem, which uses the refrain that gave rise to Lady Nairne's song : The farmer's wife sat at the door, a pleasant sight to see ; And blithesome were the wee, wee bairus that played around her knee. When, bending 'neath her heavy creel, a poor fish- wife came by, And, turning from the toilsome road, unto the door drew nigh. She laid her burden on the green, and spread its scaly store, With trembling hands and pleading words she told them o'er and o'er. But lightly laughed the young guidwife, " We're no sae scarce o' cheer; Tak' up your creel, and gang your ways, I'll buy nae fish sae dear." Bending beneath her load again, a weary sight to see ; Right sorely sighed the poor fish-wife, " They're dear fish to me ! " Our boat was oot ae fearfu' night, and when the storm blew o'er, My husband, and my three brave sons, lay corpses on the shore. " I've been a wife for thirty years, a childless widow three; I maun buy them now to sell again, they're dear fish to me 1 " The farmer's wife turned to the door, what was't upon her cheek? What was there rising in her breast, that then she scarce could speak? She thought upon her ain guidman, her lightsome laddies three ; The woman's words had pierced her heart, " They're dear fish to me ! " " Come back," she cried, with quivering voice, and pity's gathering tear; " Come in, come in, my poor woman, ye're kindly welcome here. " I kentna o' your aching heart, your weary lot to dree ; I'll ne'er forget your sad, sad words : ' They're dear fish to me ! ' " Ay, let the happy-hearted learn to pause ere they deny The meed of honest toil, and think how much their gold may buy, How much of manhood's wasted strength, what woman's misery, What breaking hearts might swell the cry : " They're dear fish to me 1 " THE ARROW AND THE SONG. THE ARROW AND THE SONG. 609 THE words of this song were written by LONGFELLOW. The composer of the music, MICHAEL WILLIAM BALFE,was bora in Dublin, Ireland, May 15, 1808. At the age of eight, he played a concerto on the violin at a public concert, and a year later he wrote a ballad, "The Lover's Mistake," which Madame Vestris introduced into the opera of "Paul Pry." In 1823 he went to London with Charles Edward Horn, as an articled pupil. He was soon engaged as principal violinist at the Drury lane oratorios, and in the orchestra under Thomas Cooke. He was also cultivating his rich baritone voice. Count Mazzara, fancying he resembled a son whom his wife had lost, took young Balfe to Kome, where the Countess received him tenderly. He studied in Eome, Milan, and Paris, and in the latter city, ap- peared as Figaro in the " Barber of Seville," and made a great success. He came to the United States with his wife, and sang in opera, and, returning to London, appeared in his own first opera, " The Siege of Eochelle." From that time he devoted himself especially to composition, and produced his well-known operas, of which "The Bohemian Girl" is the most popular. Balfe died in London October 20, 1870. I shot an ar-row in - to the air, It fell to earth, I IS F~1 rT~ TTfi T ~? ^la^JEEE :=J H S 5 5 3 610 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. -9 9 * g- I breath'd a song f* * * -+ -+ dim. ** * ** 43 4 4 4 T 33333 fX3==f==3 2335^ 1 j^-^jp- 1 T f t r : . Jb _ j _ TT-K -K ^- tt * J , e. _j , i * J i ' tne j ] know not where ; -^ 14= ^ 3 it t * i r-s ! -9 - * ?- < a it 1 j i .. j_,. r~ * ' *~ ? ? -s ti~ at 5 "*" __ ' fr i ' i ar-^ -9r -0r 44 3 3 333 II=^^F r'~7~^-^ E!J^^^^EE;EE^ For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can fol - low the 1 1 \_ Zft *f ^H 4 Ef -*- flight of a song? For who has sight so keen and so strong,. 3 ^^J ff^^f^^ ir* ., i j * 5= - * * -**( -; i= t it THE ARROW AND THE SONG. 611 LlEE^ That it can fol low the flight of a song? ::1 : :z)=: = 1 -- 1 dim. ~ 535 1-4- J *=2=3 Long, long af - forwards, PF ^ 3 3 v ^P^ ^F- ^w^ ^PT -wr ^ u =t 33 *** W" TT ^ : =3=*^ 3 u 3 3 rr^f 'H ' ^ ' ' ^ K ^E^=.=fc 1 in an oak. I found the ar - row still un - broke; 3 S 3 3333 And the song from be-ginning to end, I found a -gain in the hemi i==J===i=:j=^;==5^^ ^ gF~^ i "- * * $* + 612 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. dim. And the ong from be - gin - ning to end, 4?*=S- & i PP I found a -gain in the i j 1 1 -J j=-! ^J f * / /#/. f - cres. Z7TT- - / f j i -B S * -1 heart of a friend, feb i i I found a - gain, . ? f . r r & d 1 fi^r-b- a-^ f-i p=f= =i= 1 j IT 1 ] i ^ . 1 ^ ^ i d \ -J- 8 1 i ^P _ ^ high sin FT^ de - lay, she shoots thro' air and light, A - bove all low to cloud, no lure to stay My soul, as home she springs:.. i Where Thy t ==4 ad lib. =*= __ s?.--s& < s h -r 'srtt^.Bf ssa d in ms s as. C C ' 614 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. THE BEGGAR GIRL. THIS little English ballad has enjoyed great popularity. Among other notices of it there is a minute account of its having been sung with a wonderful effect by a military officer at an anniversary dinner given at the sea-bathing infirmary, at Margate, in August, 1807. The melody was composed by PIERCY. Grazioso. \ 1. O - ver the mount- ain and o - ver the moor, Hun - gry and bare - foot I 2. Call me not la - zy-back beg - gar, and bold e-nough, Fain would I learn both to 3. Oh! think,while you rev- el so care - less and free, Se - cure from the wind, and well m i t wan - der for - lorn, My fa - ther is dead, and my moth - er is poor, And she knit and to sew; I've two lit - tie broth -ers at home,when they're old e-nough, cloth - ed and fed, Should for - tune so change it, how hard it would be To grieves They beg for the days that will nev - er re - turn, will work hard for the gifts you be - stow. at a door for a mor - sel of bread! THE BEGGAR GIRL, 615 ^=^=3: ~N NT 5E Cold blows the wind, and the night's com- ing on; Give me some food for my 1L, - moth - er for char - i - ty, Give me some food, and then I will be gone TOO LATE. THIS song is sung by the "little maid" to Queen Guinevere, in TENNYSON'S poem of that name in " Idyls of the King." The music is by Miss LINDSAY, an English lady. Andante Lar ghetto. :> I==*=Z-H.-. *-' I I "^^^^P^-^i - =3r3==i= :=*=^3S^B Late, late, so late I and dark the night, and chill 1 : 3 :f -\ -I ^ : ^ -l 9 r &= g ^ y ^p ~~^rz: Late, late, so late! But _ ! 1 1^^. ^z -N = EEEM= 3~T 616 OUK FAMILIAR SONGS. m ** Too late too -9- -r late, ye cannot en-ter now. EEg -? -*1 5 jt-9-ripi 3 3=3=1=: No light had we; for that we do re-pent, And, learn - ing this, the * Jf hridegroom will re-lent Too late! too late! ye cannot en-ter 3=^ sf sf^ i r -l-j I now, Too late, Too late, ye cannot en-ter now. ^=1= =^-M-^-jq 3 TOO LATE. m No light! so late! and dark and chill the night, O let us in, that r * . / r-H^rt we may find the light, O let us in, that we may find the light. Too late, too late, ye cannot en -ter now. P- $==x=- j - 1 1 \ 1 1 7 < T~ tj P Too late, too late, ye cannot en -ter now 618 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. :*=*: Have we not heard, the bridegroom is so sweet, O let us in, that +*-+ -+-*-+ s;3 : m -* let us in, tho' late, to kiss.... his feet. 7 J fc * fr-i ^ r ~z 4= ^ ^ N No! no! Too late, ye can-not en-ter now. =: T f r^ r qz=z^=:a *i * & - , , * TOO LATE. Late, late, so late ! and dark the night, and chill ! Late, late, so late ! but we can enter still. Too late ! too late ! ye cannot enter now, Too late too late, ye cannot enter now. No light had we : for that we do repent, And learning this the bridegroom will relent. Too late too late ye cannot enter now. Too late, too late, ye cannot enter now No light ! so late ! and dark and chill the night, O let us in, that we may find the light, Too late, too late, ye cannot enter now, Too late ! too late ! ye cannot enter now. Have we not heard, the bridegroom is so sweet, O let us in, that we may kiss his feet. O let us in, O let us in, O let us in, tho' late, to kiss his feet! No ! no ! too late, ye cannot enter now. O let us in, that we may find the light EVENING SONG TO THE VIRGIN. THE words to the following sweet and familiar air, were written by MRS. HEMANS It .& the hymn sung by a Eoman Catholic wife, and is contained in "The Forest Sanctuary." The listening woman says : Thy sad, sweet hymn, at eve, the seas along, Oh 1 the deep soul it breathed I the love, the woe, The fervor, poured in that full gush of song, As it went floating through the fiery glow Of the rich sunset ! bringing thoughts of Spain, With all her vesper-voices, o'er the main, Which seemed responsive in its murmuring flow. " Ave sanctissima ! " how oft *hat lay Hath melted from my heart the martyr-strength away. " Ora pro nobis, Mater ! " What a spell Was in those notes, with day's last glory dying On the flushed waters seemed they not to swell From the far dust, wherein my sires were lying With crucifix and sword ? Oh I yet how clear Comes their reproachful sweetness to mine ear! " Ora," with all the purple waves replying, All my youth's visions risiug in the strain And I had thought it much to bear the rack and chain! A - ve Sane - tis -si -ma, We lift our souls to m m m ft thee; O - ra jfe^^3^B3 9~- jr-g--r~* ^g^JIPli Far o'er the wa - ter spread, Hear the heart's lone - ly sigh, Thine too hath bled. 620 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. r d=fc^z ** * * Thou that hast look'd on death, Aid us when death is near; Whis - per of ftfdtfe r~rr == ^=g=g=pE= =g=TS==f^Ii=T= F -|r-f^==ti :gizi^=^ r ^t ^ - r T^^F ;g=^=4i ! N ~T=^=q B- ^ -"^Ffe ^T === ^ : ff ::: ^ :=i::=: ^-"^P :t ~ == ? :=: heav'n to faith, Sweet mother, sweet mother, hear! O - ra pro no - bis, The wave must rock our sleep, O - ra, Ma - ter, O - ra, Star of the deep. THE RAINY DAY. THE author of " The Eainy Day," HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFSLLOW, was born in Port- land, Maine, February 27, 1807. He was for many years professor of modern languages and literature at Harvard, and resided in Cambridge till his death in March, 1882. The music is by WILLIAM EICHARDSON DEMPSTER, who was born in Keith, Scotland, in 1809. He spent his early life in Aberdeen, where he was apprenticed to a quill-maker, but simply followed the bent of his own genius iu quitting his trade and devoting himself to music. He emigrated to the United States, remained several years hero, and iii'trnvard, by frequent voyages, spent his life about equally ou the two sides of the Atlantic. One of his earliest successful publications was his music for Tennyson's " May Queen,* and the frequent songs introduced in Tennyson's longer poems became his especial favorites for composition ; indeed, his musical setting of these is the work by which he is best known, and his own singing of them constituted the chief attraction of his concerts. Their popu- lar success was much greater in America than in Great Britain. His voice lacked the strength and volume necessary in a large hall, but in parlor singing his performances were exquisitely effective. In his early professional life Mr. Dempster was greatly aided and encouraged by Mrs. Isabella Browning, a pianist of note, who at that time was at the head of musical affairs in Aberdeen. In his later years the income from his published music made him independent. He died in London, March 7, 1871, surrounded by friends to whom he had long endeared himself by his warm-hearted and genial disposition, no less than by his strict morality. THE RAINY DAY. 621 Andante. By special permission of Messrs. OLIVER Drrsos & Co. ^3J r I ri [ rl -j i rl ... j j ~TJ j j s j 3 a 1 '""^l bj^^ 1. The 2. Mv 3. Be &> 0_ 0(3 +* * r f p i 1 - p 1 r p y day is cold, and dark, and drear - y; It rains, and the life is cold, and dark, and drear - y; It rains, and the still, sad heart! and cease re - pin - ing; Be - bind the .,...- i i i i i | i ] J N^ L ^h-l-- L- f-rf-J 1- 1 J J 1 i -0- -0~ ~0~ m "0* ' i t-C t=E I , J rJ I' nt/i. 3 w - ^ -j 3 ^ - -^ * - 5 1~ X^r) ;/!_ 1 s EZT3I 1 "^ 1 * S V L_^ L_^ 1__^ J , JH^ 5 ^ i* i ,^3 i* P p p * _p: p i^j _| J W--J wind wind clouds T ' is nev - er wea - ry; The vine still clings to the is nev - er wea - ry; My thoughts still cling to the the sun is shin - ing; Thy fate is the com - mon -j J , J g - - -0- -" V -000 -0- * "" "* "* ' ^ al J ^ J *> I^S~1II*~Z r^~~- =S=ST^=s r J 0-000 0" + - 9 * i LJ -6 ^, f 00- mould mould fate - 'ring wall, But at ev' - ry gust the - 'ring past, But the hopes of youth of all, In - to each life some dead leaves thick in the rain must ! J ** r-\ 1 1 MM jfr -^ \ ---- \ ^ \ * ' -. Efe^sT" -^l^^ep^ _j 1_|- i ^^^=|!^=^ fall, fall,' fc id^^tz -& _,^~p~ -JL--1-- ^j^-+-J f. * _ ^ Hrr - v And th<* And the day is dark A ml the And the days are dark arear y,.- ^^ Some days must be dark ^p F5- ^=*==^^^^ =*= SZZ =E^= -^^ lgj- . 622 OUR FAMILIAR f>'OA r &S. 3 32: day is dark days are dark days must be dark and drear- y. and drear- y, and drear- y. And the day is And the days are Some davs must be dark and dark and dark and drear - y. drear - y. drear - The day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary : It rains, and the wind is never weary . My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary. MY MOTHER'S BIBLE. THE words of "My Mother's Bible," were written by GEORGE P. MORRIS. An English writer says of him : " You can hardly know the place General Morris has made himself among all classes here. His many songs and ballads are household words in every home in England. After all, what are all the throat-warblings in this world to one such heart-song as 'My Mother's Bible!'" N. P. Willis, General Morris's life-long friend, wrote of him : " My dear sir : To ask me for my idea of Mr. Morris, is like asking the left hand's opinion of the dexterity of the right. I have lived so long with the 'Brigadier' known him so intimately worked so con- stantly at the same rope, and thought so little of ever separating from him (except by precedence of ferriage over the Styx), that it is hard to shove him from me to the perspec- tive distance hard to shut my own partial eyes and look at him through other people's. I will try, however, and as it is done with but one foot off the treadmill of my ceaseless vocation, you will excuse both abruptness and brevity. " Morris is the best known poet of the country, by acclamation, not by criticism. He is just what poets would be if they sang like birds, without criticism ; and it is a peculiarity of his fame that it seems as regardless of criticism as a bird in the air. Nothing can stop a song of his. It is very easy to say that they are very easy to do. They have a momentum somehow, that is difficult for others to give, and that speeds them to the far goal of popu- larity the best proof consisting in the fact that he can at any moment get fifty dollars for a song unread, when the whole remainder of the American Parnassus could not sell one to the same buyer for a shilling. It may or may not be one secret of his popularity, but it is a truth that Morris's heart is at the level of most other people's and his poetry flows out by that door. He stands breast-high in the common stream of sympathy, and the fine oil of his poetic feelings goes from him upon an element it is its nature to float upon, and which carries it safe to other bosoms with little need of high-flying or deep diving. His sentiments are simple, honest, truthful, and familiar ; his language is pure and eminently MY MOTHERS BIBLE. 623 musical, and he is prodigally full of the poetry of every-day feeling. These are days when poets try experiments ; and while others succeed in taking the world's breath away with flights and plunges, Morris uses his feet to walk quietly with nature. Ninety-nine people in a hundred, taken as they come in the census, would find more to admire in Morris's songs than in the writings of any other American poet; and that is a parish in the poetical Episcopate well worthy a wise man's nurture and prizing. "As to the man Morris, my friend I can hardly venture to 'burn incense on his moustache/ as the French say write his praises under his very nose but as far off as Philadelphia, you may pay the proper tribute to his loyal nature and manly excellences. His personal qualities have made him universally popular, but this overflow upon the world does not impoverish him for his friends. I have outlined a true poet and a fine fel- low, fill up the picture to your liking." The music of this song was composed by HENRY EUSSELL. ma - ny gen - er - a - tionspast, Here is our fam - 'ly tree: My speak of what these pa - ges said, In tones my heart would thrill! Though -dt- mo - ther's bauds this they are with the Bi - ble clasp'd; She, dy si - lent dead, Here are ing, gave it me. they liv - ing still. T My father read this holy book To brothers, sisters dear ; How calm was my poor mother's look, Who leaned God's word to hear. Her angel face I see it yet! What thronging memories come ! Again that little group is met Within the halls of home. Thou truest friend man ever knew, Thy constancy I've tried; Where all were false, I found thee true, My counsellor and guide. The mines of earth no treasure give That could this volume buy ; In teaching me the way to live, It taught me how to die. 624 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. THE INQUIRY THE words of the following beautiful but dreadfully be-parodied song were written by CHABLES MACKAY, and the music was composed by CIPRIANO GORRIN. Gorrin was of Spanish descent, was a fine musician, and for some years was a teacher of music in the city of New York. 1. Tell me, ye wing- ed winds That round my pathway roar,. J * \ ' i 3^3 0> .- 5 W 1 _I Do ye not know some spot Where mor - tals weep no more? Some 3 i i i i i i d i i y = d i =-+ S^ EE^ lone and pleas - ant, pleas - ant dell, Some val ley in the west, m Where SE free from toil and pain, Where free from toil and pain, ^ 000 Where G25 free from toil and The wea - ry soul may rest? J J i "i ^tt 2. Tell mf , thou mighty deep, \\Hiose billows round me play. 1 3 Know'st thou some fa-vor'd spot,.... Some is - land far a- way, Where , - wea - ry, wea - ry man may find The bliss, the bliss for which he sighs, Where 26 OUK FAMILIAR SONGS. m sor - row nev - er lives, Where sor - row nev - er fives, Where ^^^ - r h a sor- row nev-er, nev-er lives, And friend - ship nev - er, nev- er dies? 3 3^ s i i 3. And thou, se - ren - est moon. That ho - Dost 4-* i TT V 33 J'f rl ^ look up - on the earth,.... A - sleep in night's em - brace, Tell ^JVU-Eg -i 1 * ** ^4 ^ J THE INQ UIEY. 627 me, tell me in all thy round, Hast thou not seen some spot, some spot Where - T mis - er - a - ble man, Where mis - er a - ble man, Where Might find a hap - pier lot? mis - er - a - ble man Dr. Mackay's poem, as sometimes happens, has suffered loss of sense in being set to music. By discarding the refrain, the composer obscures the main point, stanza is: Tell me, my secret soul, O tell me, Hope and Faith, Is there no resting-place From sorrow, sin and death ? Is there no happy spot Where mortals may be blest Where grief may find a balm, And weariness a rest ? Faith Hope, and Trvth best boons to mortals given - Waved their bright wings, and answered, Yes, in heaven." 628 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. THE BETTER LAND. THE words of this song were written by MRS. HEMANS; the music was composed by her sister, MRS. ARKWRIGHT. iPI 1. I hear thee speak of the bet - ter land, Thou call'st its children a 2. Is it where the feath - er - y palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe un- 1< r in ^ ^ -p-ft >'* > f : ^ g=f v i*- hap - py band; Moth-er, oh! where is that ra - diant shore? sun - ny skies? Or midst the green is- lands of glit - t'ring seas; Where Is it Shall we not seek it and weep no more? Is it where the flow'r of the fra - grant for - ests per - fume the breeze, And strange, bright birds on their or - ange blows, And the fire star - ry wings, Wear the rich flies dance in the myr - tie boughs? hues of all glo - rious things? THE BETTER LAND. 629 there, NoUhcre, my chiw , ^ ^ ^ ^ ' ^^ >$~ r^ , P5 -V I hear tliee speak of the better land, Thou caU'st its children a happy band; Mother, ih ! where is that radiant shore? Shall we not seek it and weep no more ? Is it wh<5re the flower of the orange blows, And th fire-flie's dance in the myrtle boughs ? Not th*re ! not there ! my child. Is it where the feathery palm trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies, Or iridst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds on their starry wings Wear the rich hues of all glorious things ? Not there ! not there ! my child. Is it far away in some region old, Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold, And the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine ? And the pearl glows forth from the coral strand, Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ? Not there ! not there ! my child. Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy, Ear hath not heard its sweet songs of joy; Dreams cannot picture a world so fair, Sorrow and death may not enter there, Time may not breathe on its fadeless bloom; For beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb, It is there ! it is there ! my child. THERE'S NOTHING TRUE BUT HEAVEN. THIS most familiar of all semi-religious songs is one of TOM MOORE'S " Sacred Melo- dies."! should have been glad to include in this collection much fine and well-known sacre*d music ; but it was impossible to enter that great field of song, from which enough for a separate volume would have to be taken. 1. This world is all a 2. And false the light on 3. Poor wan-d'rers of a fleet - ing show, For man's il - lu - sioii glo - ry's plumo, As fad- ing hues of storm- y day I From wave to wave we're giv'n; ev'n; driv'n; S tt - 3^^ world is all a false the light on wan-d'rers of a fleet - ing show, For man's glo - ry a plume, As fad - storm - y day! From wave il - lu - sion giv'n.. ing hues of ev'n;-. to wave we're driv'n;. 630 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. The And And smiles of joy, love and hope, fan - cy's flash, the tears of woe, and beau - ty's bloom, and rea- soil's ray, De- Are Serve ceit - ful shine, bios - soms gather'd but to light de - for the ceit the trou ful flow, tomb, bled way, There'8 noth- ing true but There's noth- ing bright but There's noth- ing calm but heav'n, There's noth - ing true... heav'n, There's noth -ing bright, heav'n, There's noth-iug calm... but heav'n but heav'n but heav'n but heav'n, There's noth - ing but heav'n, There's noth - ing but heav'n, There's noth - ing This world is all a fleeting show, For man's illusion given ; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow, There's nothing true but heaven. And false the light on glory's plume, As fading hues of ev'n ; And love, and hope, and beauty's bloom, Are blossoms gathered for the tomb There's nothing bright but heaven. Poor wanderers of a stormy day ! From wave to wave we're driven ; And fancy's flash and reason's ray Serve but to light the troubled way; There's nothing calm but heaven. THE PAUPER'S DRIVE. THOMAS NOEL, author of the words of this quaint song, was an Englishman. In 1841 he published a volume of "Rhymes and Roundelays." He lived in a romantic home on the Thames, and among his poems is a pretty song about that river. The idea of " The Pau- per's Drive" was suggested to him by seeing a funeral where the body was borne upon a cart driven at full speed. 'The music of the song is the composition of J. J. HTJTCHINSON. THE PAUPElt'S DWVE. 631 X*#fi JN IS-' N >S N ! *%- N IS fc 1 N ^ V X N V \ _>_ 1. There's a grim one-horse hearse in a jol - ly round trot ; To the church-yard a pau-plr Oh, where are the mourn- ers? a - las ! there are none : He has left not a gap in the ' ' l ^ m g ' i i i r g g = ..f 00000 *-v V v v v v J N N N 1 S b \\ go- ing, I wot: The road it is rough, and the hearse has no springs, And world, now he's gone; Not a tear in the eye Of child, wo- man, or man, To the 3f f *-.. * g ' *~-f f f f 0-9- -9 9 m-f- ^ fl i P P P v*=- - V 5 V 1 9 ?-'- g g g r gf^ IE P C i g N ^4/7 /^^ voices in unison. ~*~ T*~ "<" ~!*~ (/ *T JJ. ^ k /T if K K K * K ^ P ^ ", 1 1 ^ _i J J _i ^ M M fl 41 MM * * f III hark to the dirge which the ,grave with his car - cass as rrs f f f f f f~ > * * sad driv - er sings : ) fast as you can. j r P " Rat - tie his bones Accomp. ^ 1 ~~9 i =T~ V^lx ||f 1 1 1 P F F 1 1 r n . r i r D v V V V \ P P x^ A >, 'I*- T- I*" - 1 *- I*" I*" r-Q-ffjj p p F P *==$ l> . r r r r jj rr _4 r [|ffff -U ^y^* |* ' * i* P |3 o - ver the stones: He's on - ly a pau - per whom no - bo - .dy owns ! rrrrr- r r \r r tt^ y harmony. f\ \ \ 1 K S .,_SL h. K x ^ *- II Rat -tie his bones o - ver the stones : He's on - ly a pau-per whom no - bo - dy owns I" m * * .-- 1 f i * ^ | ,* f f 1? || frFi izsi" L L L 2 ^"t -t ^^ c D D r \-*** z= =* v f p- It. ' ^ M "" There's a grim one-horse hearse in a jolly round trot, To the churchyard a pauper is going, I wot The road it is rough, and the hearse has no springs, And hark to the dirge which the sad driver sings : 41 Rattle his bones over the stones : He's only a pauper whom nobody owns ! " Oh, where are the mourners ? alas I there are none : He has left not a gap in the world, now he's gone ; Not a tear in the eye of child, woman, or man, To the grave with his carcass as fast as you can. " Rattle his bones over the stones ; He's only a pauper whom nobody owns! " r>32 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. What a jolting, and creaking, and plashing, and din ; The whip how it cracks ! and the wheels how they spin ! How the dirt, right and left, o'er the hedges is hurled ! The pauper at length makes a noise in the world ! " Rattle his bones over the stones : He's only a pauper whom nobody owns ! " Poor pauper defunct! he has made some approach To gentility, now that he's stretched in a coach ! He's taking a drive in his carriage at last, But it will not be long, if he goes on so fast. " Rattle his bones over the stones ; He's only a pauper whom nobody owns. But a truce to this strain ; for my soul it is sad To think that a heart, in humanity clad, Should make, like the brute, such a desolate end, And depart from the light, without leaving a friend ! " Bear soft his bones over the stones ; Though a pauper, he's one whom his Maker yet owns ! " You bumpkins ! who stare at your brother con- veyed Behold what respect to a cloddy is paid ! And be joyful to think, when by death you're laid low, You've a chance to the grave like a gemman to go ! " Rattle his bones over the stones ; He's only a pauper whom nobody owns ! " THE OLD SEXTON. PARK BENJAMIN, author of the words of " The Old Sexton," was bora in Demerani, British Guiana, August 14, 1809. His parents had removed there from New England, and, on account of illness in his infancy, which resulted in serious lameness, Park was sent to his father's home in Connecticut for medical treatment. He studied at Trinity and Harvard Colleges, and began to practice law in Boston. He soon left the profession, devoted him- self to literary pursuits, and became founder, editor, or contributor of several American magazines. His lyrics attained wide popularity, but have never been collected ; some of them, it is said, have not even been in print, but have descended from school-boy to school-boy as declamations. Mr. Benjamin died in New York city, September 12, 1864. "The Old Sexton" was written expressly for HENRY RUSSELL, who composed the music. I m . a grave are with Nigh Ma - to ny that was me, but new still - ly made, Leaned a I'm a-lone, I'm sex king - ton old, on bis of the dead and I *- * Staccato. Colla voce. 1 ^ m w earth - worn spade, His work was done, and he paused to wait make my throne On a monu-ment slab of mar - ble cold, The And my THE OLD SEXTON. 633 fun' - ral train through the o - pen sate seep - tre of rule is the spade I hold; rel - ic of by - gone Come they from cottage, or . days was he, And his locks were white as the foam - v sea; And come they from hall, Man - kind are my sub - jects, all, all, all! Let them IttpZ , v ^- N K 1 1* 1 ^'!* I * ._ I r 1 ! gf* J J Jj J' J' these words came from his loit - er in pleas - ure, or -A J? 1 lips so thin: "I toil - ful - ly spin " I 1 | ' * -? ^ ** -h- ^ u B-l B^" gath - er them in, gath - er them in, I -\ 1 i- :: l H-jj =d J 1 LJ J 4 -*--*- T 1 1 ( 1=^=1 P T N=^ 1 t3=M 1 L C j 1 Q I T! ' gath - er them in, gath - er, 634 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. gath - er, Sva ga-ther them in.". ^ -j,, j i j g S SjUL^ '8 PI 5- JTW*^ *- -0- ^ s 2. "I Rath - er them in! for man and boy,.... 4. " I gath - er them in, and their & - nal rest Is Year aft -er year of here, down here, in the ^ grief and joy, Fve build- ed the houses that lie a - round, In earth's dark breast !" And the sex - ton ceased for the f u - neral train Wound f A f THE OLD SEXTON. 635 -yry~~ )$? Q M P si P~~ ~i~ T * R ^r" ^ F ^ ^ _l f- 1_| p_p a u_ i 1 ^ _ ^ M 1 p \* vNvNivNv ^ j\ JA fm P *t w~~= h^ *> . / J . ^ J.^^3J S -* : J* * : J* cheer - less noon, fi *t i ^^ On tow - er, fort, or tent - ed ground,The sen - try walks his U S J 1 k fs ic N ic 1 /f J 03 &~ P ft'P" fr i^ ^j!5& ff i B g^. _ JE ^ J_s -- J . /^ J . - J . f * H J S . ^ J . ^ sound - ly sleep, rhe care- ful watch pa- trols the deck, The care- ful watch pa- E2 ^ =f P_a n + . - f \ ' LJ LJ _ J ^ y# m . fc l^ i* _ N * m * B \ /L * f P 5 i 1 D l ^ "* 1 KB P g L "U * $ -4 * ~ n lone-ly round, The sen - try walks his lone - ly round. The sen - try {) S is, fc j ''^ _ i x i a N j N s x- ^ff) ^~ * ~ a H^- P ft | *- j trols the deck, To guard ^ -/. y -J- the ship from foes or wreck, To guard the /S("\tt f . ^ M M ^ 1 [_^_ (K?* j ^ *1 x i q * * * J x if ~~"~ N AH*grv. I S - P- f- P P XW ' 1 F p * ^ "^~ ^i" -r r r r p p * p~ --b h b b 1 , 1 ^^^^^ 1 L' U v v L j j L walks his lone - ly ro v v V V uud. And should some foot-step hap - ly stray, Whe "1 ** S N IS IS h. h. it. re cau-tion marks the ship from foes or wi i J - ^- -> i -, b^y ~! N -^5 ^ p uJ J pssk,- . __J S t * So, So, deep in my dark as I soul the still pray'r of de - vo - tion, Un - roam, in this win - try world shroud - ed, The -ft* * r* J Ed 1 v $ pi t*_^j -JZJ ^^ { r f ^== 1 j- ! Z W 3r- * ^=?=^ ^X-i-?^*-. -*- g<- * 1 / 7 1 heard by the world, ris - es hope of my spir - it turns si - lent tremb - ling to to Thee; Thee : =F3 DO WN IN THE SUNLESS RETREATS, ad lib. 641 My My si -lent to Thee; Pure, warm, si - lent to trembling to Thee; True, fond, trembling to Expressive. o ,- -H 1- mf Thee I So, deep in my soul the still pray'r of de - vo - tion, Un - Thee ! So, dark as I roam, in this win - try world shroud - ed, The heard hope by of the world, ris - es my spir - it turns si - lent to tremb - ling to Thee; Thee: heard hope - , 8 i - lent to Thee! by the world; ris of my spir - it turns trembling Un The OUR FAMILIAR SONGti. WHEN SHALL WE THREE MEET AGAIN? THIS most familiar song has been long, though vaguely, associated with the early days of two of America's oldest colleges, Dartmouth and Williams. I quote below the letter which an eminent educator in Massachusetts wrote to The Dartmouth, a periodical pub- lished by the students of that college. " The legend of the Old Pine, on the hill back of the college, in Hanover, was told me when I was a child, more than fifty years ago ; and yet a graduate of Dartmouth recently said he had never heard it ! The story is, that three Indians, on the day they left Dartmouth, met in a bower, of which the youthful pine, now a venerable tree, was one of the trees, and sang the song, ' When shall we three meet again?' The words and music were composed by one of their number. My mother told me the story, and from her lips I learned both the words and the music, a very plaintive minor strain. The only commencement I ever attended at Dartmouth, was in 1853, when I heard Choate's eulogy of Webster. On the evening of that day I was walking on the hill, for the sake of the prospect, and the pine tree was pointed out to me, which was said to be older than the college. While we were standing there, a company of four or five rather young men, evidently alumni, sang the very song, in the very strain, which I had learned when a child, living in Connecticut." The late President Smith of Dartmouth, said in a letter to me :" I do not believe, with Artemus Ward, that 'Indians is pizen wherever you meet 'em/ but that any Indian undergraduate, or Indian just graduate, ever wrote so beautiful a lyric as that you enquire about, I am slow to think." On the other hand, a New Hampshire poet gives me the following account of his memory and opinion : "I think there must be something in the legend, because I distinctly remember that, in 1839, one Pierce, an Indian (Cherokee) of the class of 1840, came to rny home [Newport, N. H.] with a cousin of mine who was in the same class, to spend a few days of his vacation, and was at my mother's house, and I remember that he sang this same song, and that my younger sister learned both the words and the music, from whom I learned them. Some of the Indian graduates at Dartmouth were smart fellows I think fully equal to the writing of this song. It is not perfect in its construction, by any means; for instance, the third stanza, which is somewhat incoherent, although a very sweet, pretty thing. The first line of the same stanza is strong evidence of Indian origin, as Indians' hair is always a 'burnished' black, and here were three black-haired fellows." From still another quarter comes the legend that the song emanated from Williams College, and that it was sung by three young men, just graduating there, who had met in a meadow, in the shade of a great haystack, to consecrate themselves to the work of foreign missions among the earliest that America had known. One of their number was said to have composed the song entire, and the especial proof lay in the second stanza : Though in distant lands we sigh, Parched beneath a hostile sky ; Though the deep between us rolls, Friendship shall unite our souls, Still, in Fancy's rich domain, Oft shall we three meet again. Three standard English collections, published within the past sixty years, have con- tained the song without the stanza to which tradition points in proof of Indian origin. No authorship of the words is given, but the air is spoken of in one place as the work of Samuel Webbe, in another as the work of Dr. William Horsley. SAMUEL WEBBE, was an English composer, born in London in 1740. His father, who was wealthy, died suddenly When about to assume a government office in Minorca, and the property was taken from WHEN SHALL WE THREE MEET AGAIN f t>45 his widow and infant son. Mrs. Webbe was rendered so destitute that she was obliged to deny her son education, and when he was but eleven years old to apprentice him to a cabinet-maker. This business he hated, and though he knew not a note of written music his fondness for the art led him to undertake to copy it. He copied from five in the morn! ing tifl midnight. He also studied French, Hebrew, German, and Latin, and finally em- ployed an Italian music-master, after which he attempted composition. His music was received warmly, and he became a favorite teacher. He made numberless songs, anthems masses, etc., including the music of "When shall we three meet again?" which is spoken of as his " celebrated glee." DR. HORSLEY was a well-known English composer, born thirty years later than Webbe whose pupil he was. He either made a new composition for the words of this song or re-arrranged his teacher's air. The former supposition is more probable, as two different airs are given. Where the song appears in these English collections there is no definite information as to the authorship of the words j but one of the three attributes them to " a lady." Is it not probable that the glee was written before the words which accompanied it? The words seem like those of some one leaving home for a foreign land, expecting years of absence. May it not be that they were written by the wite of an English missionary who was about to accompany her husband to his distant work? At any rate, the song was no doubt writ- ten in England and brought to this country when Dartmouth College was in its infancy. The first Indian graduates, met in the "bower" for their farewell, might recall the song, but would desire to have something a little more expressive of their circumstances. One of their number would write the stanza which Indicates Indian origin, and the song might pass as his own, without such intention on his part. In corroboration of this, is the fact that that stanza is not contained in the English versions, and is veiy greatly inferior to the rest in poetic merit. The song was no doubt sung again at Williamstown, and by the same method by which a shrewd saying has been fastened in turn upon each coUege president in the country, it would be easy to transmit the supposed authorship of this song from the Dartmouth students who added a stanza to the Williams students who sang it on a mem- orable occasion. Harmonized by Edward S. Cumminge. iA i :p 1 *- 1 i 3 i nJ J i-=fr rr| K i i ffp p 8 t 1 * rj- 1. When shall we three 2. Tho' in dis - tant meet a - gain? When shall we three lands we sigh, Parch'd be - neath the meet a - gain? burn - ing sky; rig): fi j f r . \ P (V- y m J f P n 1 __j v ji L_J 1 L 1 jg^==jf=j=- ! 1 p P T- r* f r 1 Oft shall glow - in; Tho' the deep be ? hope ei neath us F=l=l =t : - pir rol *=i e, 8, i r * Oft shall wear - ied Friendship shall u - r; r -r- love re - tire, nite our souls; _ f Jl_f ^ ei L j^ I i 1 '' t r n a p i -i 644 m i Ere Oft Oft shall death Still in Fan - and cy's sor - rich row reign, do - main we three shall we shall three meet meet a - gain. a - gain. When shall we three meet again ? When shall we three meet again ? Oft shall glowing hope expire, Oft shall wearied love retire, Oft shall death and sorrow reign, Ere we three shall meet again. Though in distant lands we sigh, Parched beneath the burning sky; Though the deep between us rolls, Friendship shall unite our souls ; Still in Fancy's rich domain Oft shall we three meet again. When around the youthful pine Moss shall creep, and ivy twine ; When these burnished locks are gray, Thinned by many a toil-spent day, May this long-loved bower remain, Here may we three meet again. When the dreams of life are fled, When its wasted lamp is dead ; When in cold oblivion's shade Beauty, Wealth, and power are laid, Where immortal spirits reign, There shall we three meet again. THE MESSENGER BIRD. THE familiar duet which follows is still another joint production of MRS. HEMANS and MRS. ARKWRIGHT, the former being the author of the words, and the latter of the music. An American lady wrote an answer to the song, in 1827, which is included in some editions of Mrs. Hemans's works. Espressivo. -fr- s 3C?n: BBEgpglH ?=S=*^=?: 1 ^ It. gl ^^fep^ Thou art come from the spi - rit's land, thou bird ! thou art come from the spirit's " ~^*^~- > i ^^ B= -f- i BEE^E :J d:: * 3S land, Thro' the dark pine grove let thy voice be heard, And THE MESSENGER BLED. 645 6*. the shadowy band, tell of the shadowy band. ^ -I t=^t We know *. =g=S=f= that the bow'rs are green and fair, In the f t_ _f_ PP = -I- m 1- I ^ \ ** 3J J , r==* P light of that summer shore, r ^ f f f- T-^- iy-^ y w w w ^ ~_ m And we know that the friends we have -0 , i 0. espress. E* ^^ N ^ lost are there, They are there, they are there, And they weep no more. f-L_.fi- _ * 646 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. Molto espress. V L", j 1 1 1 3 1 1 \ 1 p K \ P S But tell us, but tell Ui r\ I ^^ ^ >, s Tell us, thou bird of the ^ 1_ ^ Lb, i | i 4 i | J - 1 J p 1 i ' U-^_j_i j , r=l h j J * , ^ and they sol- emn strain, Can those who have lov'd for -get? '& We call /p | ^ N _H,- r ^ H K H, ^ Uj %/ - - an - swer not a - gain, We /TN ^ call, and they an- swer not a - gain; Oh! ^:-fr = ^_ tj * ^^ say do they love us yet, do they love us yet, do they love us yet? 4 THE MESSENGER BIRD. 647 *, ~: fa* * We call them far thro' the si - lent night, And they speak not from cave nor We know,thou bird ! that their land is bright, But say, Oh I say do they m love there still, * * * do they love there still, do they love there still? Thou art come from the spirits' land, thou bird ! Thou art come from the spirits' land : Through the dark pine grove let thy voice be heard, And tell of the shadowy band ! We know that the bowers are green and fair In the light of that summer shore, [there, And w i know that the friends we have lost are They are there and they weep no more! [thirst And we know they have quenched their fever's From the fountain of youth ere now ; For there must the stream in its freshness burst Which none may find below ! And we know that they will not be lured to earth From the land of deathless flowers, By the feast, or the dance, or the song of mirth, Though their hearts were once with ours. Though they sat with us by the night-fire's blaze. And bent with us the bow, And heard the tales of our fathers' days, Which are told to others now ! But tell us, thou bird of the solemn strain ! Can those who have loved forget ? We call and they answer not again Do they love do they love us yet? Doth the warrior think of his brother there, And the father of his child ? And the chief of those that were wont to share His wandering through the wild? We call them far through the silent night, And they speak not from cave or hill ; We know, thou bird ! that their land is bright, But say, do they love there still ? 643 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS- THE LAND O' THE LEAL. THIS dearly-loved song was made by BARONESS NAIRNE. It was written for an early friend of hers, Mrs. Archibald Campbell Colquhoun, a beautiful woman, and an old love of Walter Scott's. It was called forth by the death of Mrs. Colquhoun's only child, and was originally longer. Two stanzas were gradually dropped, and, in later years, when Lady Nairne's whole life became an expression of her religious emotions, she added the stanza : " Sae dear that joy was bought, John, Sae free the battle fought, John, That sinfu' man e'er brought To the Land o' the Leal." When Lady Nairne was growing old, a friend urged her to give her some particulars of her composition. Of this one she wrote : " The ' Land of the Leal' is a happy rest for the mind in this dark pilgrimage. ... Oh yes ! I was young then. I was present when it was asserted that Burns composed it on his death-bed, and that he had it Jean instead of < John' ; but the parties could not decide why it never appeared in his works, as his last song should have done. I never answered." The authorship of her poems was often discussed in her presence, and although she said once that she " had not Sir Walter's art of denying," she must have had more than ordinary control over her countenance and speech, as well as very faithful friends to keep her secrets; for although her songs were universal favorites, the source of many of them was unknown even to her kindred, until the close of her life. The year before her death, when she had reached her seventy-ninth year, Lady Nairne was in Edinburgh, the home of her happy married life, and also of the friend for whom she wrote this song, when one even- ing a young kinswoman, telling her unconsciously that she was about to play what she felt sure would please her, stirred deep memories and hopes in the breast of the aged gentle- woman with her own exquisite song about " The Land o' the Leal." When Burns sent Thomson his song of " Soots wha hae wi' Wallace bled," asking that it might be set to the air called " Hey, tuttie, taittie," he said that he had shown the air to Urbani, who was highly pleased with it, and begged him to make soft verses for it. Burns never did so; but Lady Nairne's words are sung to that very air which we associate with one of the most stirring songs in existence, with only the addition of an opening note. Adagio. 1. I'm wear - in' a wa% John, like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John, I'm wear - in' a- 2. Our bon-nie bairn's there, John, She was both guid and fair, John ; And, oh ! we grudged her THE LAND O' THE LEAL. mf 649 neith-er cauld uor care, John, The joy's a - com - in' fast, John, The day is aye fair joy that's aye to last In the laud In the land the leal, o' the leal. I'm wearin' awa', John, Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John ; I'm wearin' awa' To the Land o' the Leal. There's nae sorrow there, John, There's neither cauld nor care, John ; The day is aye fair In the Land o' the Leal. Our bonnie bairn's there, John, She was baith guid and fair, John, And, oh ! we grudged her sair To the Land o' the Leal. But sorrow's sel' wears past, John, And joy's a-comin' fast, John; The joy that's aye to last In the Land o' the Leal. Sae dear's that joy was bought, John, Sae free the battle fought, John, That sinfu' man e'er brought To the Land o' the Leal. Oh! dry your glist'nin' e'e, John, My saul langs to be free, John, And angels beckon me To the Land o' the Leal. Oh ! baud ye leal and true, John, Your day's wearin' through, John, And I'll welcome you To the Land o' the Leal. Now fare-ye-weel, my ain John, This world's cares are vain, John, We'll meet, and we'll be fain In the Land o' the Leal. GOOD NIGHT, AND JOY BE WI' YE A'. TIME out of mind this tune ha* been played at the breaking up of social parties in Scot- land and some of her ablest song-writers have written words to be sung to it, all of them founded upon an old farewell melody called Armstrong's Good-Nigh^ ThemostfamiliarversionisthatofSiRALEXANDERBoswELL,Bart. He was the eldest son of the biographer of Dr. Johnson, and was born in Scotland, October 9, 1775, and was educated 650 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. at Oxford. When he was twenty years old his father died, leaving him a large estate. With literary taste and leisure he spent several years in travel, and then took up his permanent abode in his Scottish home of Auchinleck. He wrote both prose and verse, and some of his poems were reprinted in London. Sir Alexander suggested the erection of a monument to Burns on the banks of the Doon, and advertised that a meeting would be held to discuss the matter. The day arrived, and the hour, yes, and the man, just one. Sir Alexander took the chair, and his friend became clerk. Suitable resolutions were proposed, seconded, and recorded, and the meeting broke up in perfect harmony. The resolutions were imme- diately printed and widely circulated, and the result was a public subscription of two thousand pounds, and Sir Alexander laid the corner-stone of the monument. He died from the effects of a shot received in a political duel, on the 27th of March, 1822. " Johnny Armstrong's Good Night," the famous old air to which the parting songs are set, was called "Fare-thou-well, Gilk-nock-hall." In " The Complaint of Scotland," the tune is mentioned as one of the dances to which the "lycht lopeue" shepherds tripped the green, said in the "Complaint" to be "ane celest recreation to behold, and called "Thonne Ermistrange's dance." Gilknock-hall, in Liddesdale, was the ancient seat of the Armstrongs. The Armstrong to whom the words of the later songs refer, was named Thomas, and was said to have been executed in 1601, for the murder of Sir John Carmichael, of Edrom, Warden of the Middle Marches. The words which he was said himself to have made and sung were these: " This night is my departing time, The morn's the day I mun awa' ; There's no a friend or fae of mine, But wishes that I were awa. " What I hae done for lack o' wit I never, never can reca' ; I trust ye're a'my friends as yet Gude night, and joy be wi' ye a' 1" Goldsmith was so touched by this song in his youth, that nothing he heard sung >n after years could charm him like it. In a letter to Hodson he says : "I go to the opera, where Signer Columba pours out all the mazes of melody. I sit and and sigh for Lishoy's fireside, and 'Johnny Armstrong's last good-night ' from Peggy Golden." Benjamin Franklin, while travelling beyond the Alleghany Mountains, stayed for a while with a Scottish family living in a lonely place. One evening as they sat in the front door, the lady of the house sang " Sae happy as we a' hae been," in a way so touching that tears came to the eyes of the philosopher, and thirty years afterward he used to speak of the strong impression it made upon him. Arranged by Edward S. Cummings. Moderato, 1. Good night, and joy be wi' you a', Your harm - less mirth has cheer'd my heart ; May 2. When on yon muir our gal- lant clan Frae boast - ing foes their ban-ners tore, Who 3. The auld will speak, the young maun hear, Be can - tie, but be guid and leal ; Your l(D i' * -^ 4 i * m * , i * * i * * 4 \ i L__j H H i -4- r J i - 5* ^-^ j . ^ ' 2 1 2JJ-7 J GOOD NIGHT, AND JOY BE WI' YE A 1 . 651 g^g^^s .... ! ' f .L^_- - f : f F f 1 1 Sp =j==+_j_ i v | rj~ life's fell blasts out o'er ye blaw, In sor - show'd him - sel' a bet - ter man, Or fier - ain ills aye ha'e heart to bear, A - nith - g k r LJj row may ye cer waved the er's aye ha'e =-L=U nev - er part, red clay -more? heart to feel. 1 1 '&& 1 JT * 1 * ~M .3 'If ~^ * j ~JH * * 5 _ EE es f. -- *- J | My spir - it lives, but strength is gone, The mount- ain fires now blaze in vain : Re- But when in peace then mark me there,When through the glen the wan-d'rer came, I So, ere I set, I'll see you shine, I'll see you triumph e'er I fa'; My 3CH i i 1 XT s ^ vs \ j _____ _____ - fa * * J_ C 4 * J * ^_ ._a d e * X J J_ X I ' & i * !=CT r 1 1 H yfj'Sr \t m \t ^ m ^* s L * * i 4 1 I x 1 ~ 1 J. x 1 * . y i ^ ^-^S , 1 ^ r ?f- tf ; ar-^ * f 1 f-]* J J 1* ^ - ^ ~ J " = * /] cr r^ J3 J i r-ti ra g_f ' i j [=+- * F Q ^ ^ ^ *(, mem - her, sons, the deeds I've done, And gave him o' our hard - y fare, I part - ing breath shall boast you mine, Good -tt=i^ - J J j J in your deeds I'll live a - gain, gave him here a wel- come hame. night, and joy be wi' you a'. J i j j 1 *i II _J L^_ -* e J ^ H ^ Good night, and joy be wi' ye a', Your harmless mirth has cheer'd my heart; May life's fell blasts out o'er ye blaw, In sorrow may ye never part. My spirit lives, but strength is gone, The mountain fires now blaze in vain; Remember, sons, the deeds I've done, And in your deeds I'll live again. 662 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. When on yon muir our gallant clan Frae boasting foes their banners tore, Who showed himsel' a better man. Or fiercer waved the red claymore? But when in peace then mark me there, When through the glen the wanderer came, I gave him o' our hardy fare, I gave him here a welcome hame. The auld will speak, the young maun hear, Be cantie, but be guid and leal ; Your ain ills aye ha'e heart to bear, Anither's aye ha'e heart to feel. So, ere I set, I'll see you shine, I'll see you triumph e'er I fa'; My parting breath shall boast you mine, Good night, and joy be wi' ye a'. Burns, in a letter written at the happiest period of his life, says: " Ballad-making is now as completely my hobby as ever fortification was Uncle Toby's ; so I'll e'en canter away till I come to the limit of my race (God grant that I may take the right side of the winning-post), and then, cheerfully looking back on the honest folks with whom I have been happy, I shall say or sing ' Sae merry as we a' ha'e been," and raising my last looks to the whole of the human race, the last words of the voice of Colia shall be ' Good night, and joy be wi' ye a'."' This is the closing stanza of Lady Nairne's version of the song: My harp, fareweel I thy strains are past, Of gleefu' mirth, and heartfelt wae ; The voice of song maun cease at last, And minstrelsy itsel' decay. But, oh ! where sorrow canna win, Nor parting tears are shed ava', May we meet neighbor, kith and kin, And joy for aye be wi' us a' ! INDEX, Names of authors and composers, in SMALL CAPITALS ; titles of the songs, in ttaiict. Adafr, Sir Robert, sketch of, 356. ADAM, JEAN, sketch of and song by, 394. Adams and Liberty, 589. Aefond kiss, 317. A frog he would a wooing go, 434. After the Battle, 565. Afton Water, 322. Aileen Aroon, air of, 227. AINSLIE, HEW, skt- tch of and song by, 44. Allan Water, 300. ALLEN, ELIZABETH AKERS, sketch of and song by, 71. ALLINGHAM, WILLIAM, sketch of and song by, 423. All quiet along the Potomac, 563. Airs Well! 637 " Alton Locke," quotation from, 187. A man's a man, for a' that, 603. Anacreon in Heaven, air of, 589. And ye shall walk in silk attire, 351. Angel's Whisper, Ihe. 392. Annie Laurie, 364. Appleton, Mrs. W. Stuart, her connection with " The Star-Spangled Banner," 593. Araby's Daughter, 307. Are there Tidings ? 184. Arethusa, The, 167. Argyle, John, Duke of, 513. ARK WRIGHT, Mrs., songs by, 191, 340, 533, 628, 644. (See also BROWNE, Miss.) Armistead, George, his connection with the " Star- Spangled Banner," 592. ARNE, Dr. THOMAS, sketch of, 576 ; songs by, 426, 576. Arrow and the Song, The, 609. ARNOLD. SAMUEL, sketch of and song by, 589. ARNOLD, S. J., sketch of and song by, 553. As d>>wn in, the sunless retreats, 639 As I was gwine down Shin-bone Alley, air of, 274. ATTWOOD, THOMAS, song by, 527. Auld Lang Syne, 7. Auld Robin Qray, 291 ; sequel to, 295. BAILLIE, JOANNA, sketch of and song by, 60. BALFE, MICHAEL WILLIAM, sketch of, 609 ; songs by, 35, 609. Ball, Hon. Mr., claims " Rock me to Sleep," 71. BALLANTTNE, JAMES, sketch of and song by, 47. Barbara Allan, 327. BAHKER, GEORGE A., sketch of and song by, 115. BARKER, NATHAN, arranges " Graves of a House. hold," 74. BARKER, THEODORE T., song by, 423. BARNARD, Lady Anne, sketch of and song by, 291. BARNETT, JOHN, sketch of and song by, 560. Barney Buntline, 114. Barrington, Sir Jonah, quoted, 238. Battle of the Baltic, 574. Battle Prayer, The, 535. BAYLY, THOMAS HAYNES, sketch of, 3 ; anecdote ot, 221 ; songs by, 3, 88, 95, 98, 190, 221, 276, 28\, 299, 354, 504, 521. Bay of Biscay, The, 175. Bay of Dublin, 79. Beaufort, Miss, quoted, 244 BEERS, ETHEL LYNN, sketch of and song by, 563. Beggqr Girl, The, 614. Begone ! Dull Care, 454. Bells of St. Petersburg, the air of, 223. Ben Bolt, 9. BENJAMIN, PARK, sketch of and song by, 632. Bennet, Emerson, his connection with " Rain on the Roof," 56. BENNET, HENRY, song by, 441. Best Scotch song, Burns's opinion as to the, 493. Better Land, The, 628. Bingen on the Rhine, 537. BirksofAberfeldy, The, 384. Birks of Abergeldy, The, old song of, 384. Bishop, Madame Anna, 184. BISHOP, Sir HENRY ROWLEY, sketch of, 184 ; eongit by, 98. 184, 354, 444, 499, 505. Black, John, quoted, 543, 604. Black-eyed Susan, 125. BLAMIUE, SUSANNA, sketch of, 304 ; songs by, 304. 320, 351. BLEWITT, JONATHAN, sketch of and song by, 447. BLOCKLEY, JOHN, sketch of, 13 ; songs by, 13, 236. Blue bells of Scotland, The, 501. Blue bonnets over the border, 518. Blue eyed Mary, 275. Blue Juniata, Ihe. 279. Boatie rows, The, 59. Hob and Joan, air of, 457. Bonnie Doon, 343. 654 INDEX. Bonnie Dundee, 497 ; air of, 324. BOOTT, FRANCIS, song by, 187. BOSWELL, Sir ALEXANDER, sketch of and song by, 649 BOUCICAULT, DION, sketch of, 89 ; Bongs by, 89, 488. Bounding billoics, cease your motion, 345. Bowld Sojer Boy, The, 446.. Bradford, Samuel, 312. Braes o' Balquhidder, The, 387. Braes o' Gleniffer, The, 324. BRAHAM, JOHN, sketch of, 553 ; anecdote of, 637 ; songs by, 553, 637. Brave old oak, The, 209. Break, break, break, 37. Bridal of AndaUa, The, 340. Brighton Camp, song of, 503. Bring flowers, 206. Brook, The, 199. Brookside, The, 363. Brose and Butter, air of, 417. BROWN, FRANCIS H. , sketch of and song by, 151. BROWNE, Miss, song by, 103. (See also ARKWRIGHT.) BROWN ELL, HENRY HOWARD, song by, 478. BUOWNING, ISABELLA, her opinion of W. R. Demp- ster, 37 ; assists him, 620. BRUCE, JOHN, song by, 420. BRUCE, SILAS, song by, 613. BUCKLEY, R. BISHOP, sketch of and song by, 429. BULWER, EDWARD, Lord LYTTON, sketch of and song by, 258. BUNN, ALFRED, sketch of and song by, 84 Bunting, his " Ancient Music of Ireland" quoted, 83. Burial of Sir John Moore, 2he, 560. BURNS, ROBERT, sketch of, 7; songs by, 8, 268, 317, 321, 322, 343, 359, 368, 384, 386, 390, 406, 413, 420, 516, 519, 603. Bush aboon Traquair, The, 326. Buy a Broom, 444. BYRON, Lord, sketch of and song by, 269 ; his opin- ion of Lewis, 300. Caledonian Hunt's Delight, The, air of, 343. CALLCOTT, JOHN WALL, sketch of and song by, 573. Caller Herrin', 606. Campbell, Mary, monument to, 359. CAMPBELL, MARY MAXWELL, sketch of and song by, 510. CAMPBELL, THOMAS, sketch of, 331 ; anecdote of, 573 ; songs by, 91, 331, 527, 543, 573, 574. Campbells are Comin', The, 513. Canadian Boat Song, 204. Captain Kidd, 171. Captive Knight, Tlie, 533. CAREY HENRY, sketch of and song by, 369. (See alto God Save the King.) CAROLAN, TURLOUGH, sketch of, 313; song by, 167. CARPENTER, JOSEPH EDWARDS, sketch of and song by, 146. Carrier Bird, The, 613. Carrier Dove, The, 100. Carrier Pigeon, The, 278. CARTER, THOMAS, sketch of and song by, 272- Castles in the Air, 47. Catalani, Madame, anecdote of, 638. Charlie is my Darling, 486. Cheer, Boys, Cheer! 105. CHENIE, JOHN, song by, 381. CHERRY ANDREW, sketch of and song by, 175. Choiseul, Duke de, 194. CHORLEY, HENRY F., sketch of, 209 ; quoted, 109 ; his opinion of Horn, 301 ; song by, 209. Christy, E. P., puts his name on Foster's song, 69. CLARK, JAMES G., sketch of, 297 ; songs by, 56, 297. Clark, Richard, his discussion of " God Save the King," 578. COCKBURN, ALISON RUTHERFORD, sketch of and song by, 601. COLMAN, GEORGE, the younger, sketch of and song by, 330. Come, Haste to the Wedding, 426. Come, landlord, fill the flowing bowl, 455. Come, play me that simple air, 237. Comin' through the Rye, 403. Conallon, Thomas, his connection with, " Lochaber no More," 83. Connel and Flora, 311. COOK, ELIZA, sketch of and song by, 20 ; her poem on Hood, 12. COOKE, THOMAS, sketch of and song by, 252. Copyright Trial, A, 435. Cork Leg, The, 447. Country Lass, The, air of, 370. County Guy, 266 ; air of, 460. COVERT, BERNARD, sketch of, 159 ; songs by, 159, 552. CRAWFORD, Mrs., song by, 333. CRAWFORD, ROBERT, sketch of, 253 ; songs by, 253, 326. CROUCH, F. W. NICHOLLS, sketch of and song by, 333. Cruiskin Lawn, air of, 399. Cumming, the Misses, their concerts, 488. CUNNINGHAM, ALLAN, sketch of and song by, 137. Curran, Sarah, Irving's story of, 357. CUSSANS, JACK, song by, 444 DANBY, GERTRUDE, song by, 318. Dandy, oh ! The, air of, 250. Dashing Wliite Sergeant, The, 505. DAVIS, THOMAS OSBORNE, sketch of and song by, 366. DAVY, JOHN, sketch of, 175 ; songs by, 114, 175. INDEX. 655 Days of Absence, 226. DAYTON, J., song by, 563. Death of Nelson, The, 553. Death of Warren, The, 544. DEMPSTER, WILLIAM R., sketch of, 620 ; songs by 37, 85, 240, 314, 544, 620. DIBDIN, CHARLES, sketch of, 157 ; epitaph, 160 ; anecdote of, 178 ; songs by, 157, 160, 162, 163, 178* 465. DIBDIN, THOMAS, sketch of, 571 ; songs by 571 637. DICKENS, CHARLES, sketch of and song by, 210. DINSMOOR, ROBERT, claims "The Braes o' Glenif- fer," 324. Dixie, 580. DONIZETTI, his connection with "Home, sweet home," 42. Do they miss me at home ? 68. DOUGLAS, Mr., song by, 365. Down the burn, 253. Drink to me only with thine eyes, 460. DUPFERIN, Lady, sketch of, 85 ; songs by, 79, 85. Duffet, Thomas, his book of songs, 82. Duganne, Augustine J. H., poem by, claimed by Crouch, 333. * Duncan Gray, 413. DUNLOP, JOHN, sketch of and song by, 469. Dunois the brave, 509. Durany. Ferdinand, his connection with "The Star-Spangied Banner," 592. D'URFEY, THOMAS, song by, 410. Eileen Aroon, 241. ELLIOT, JEAN, sketch of and song by, 569. ENGLISH, THOMAS DUNN, sketch of and song by, 9. Erin is my home, 88. Erin, the tear, 227. Erskine, A , quoted, 413. Esling, Mrs., 305. Evening Song to the Virgin, 619. EWEN, JOHN, sketch of and song by, 59. Exile of Erin, The, 91. Farewell! but whenever you welcome the hour, 461. Farragut, Mrs. , 352. FERKIER, Miss, stanzas by, 417. Fields, James T., his anecdote of Tennyson, 37. Pitt the bumper fair, 457. FINCH, FRANCIS M., sketch of and song by, 453. Fine old English gentleman, The, 435. FITZGERALD, Lady EDWARD, song by, 14. Fitz- Herbert, Mrs., her connection with " The Lass of Richmond Hill," 246. Flower of Strathearn, The, 484. Flowers of the Forest (Mrs. Cockburn's), 601. Flowers of (he Forest (Miss Elliot's), 569. Fly not yet, 260. FONTANE, LAMAR, his claim to " All quiet along the Potomac," 563. For the sake o' somebody, 268. FOSTER, STEPHEN COLLINS, sketch of, 4 ; songs by. 5, 64, 69, 286, 287. Four -leaved Shamrock, The, 244. Francis, Dr., his remembrance of John Howard Payne, 41. Franklin, Benjamin, anecdote of, 650. Gaily the troubadour, 521. Gallant troubadour, The, 508. GAY, JOHN, sketch of, 125 ; songs by, 125, 128 j criticisms on, 129. General Leslie's March, the old song of, 518. GILMAN, CAROLINE, sketch of and song by, 151. Ginevra, the story of, 299. Giil I left behind me, The, 503. GLOVEB, CHARLES W., sketch of and song by, 838. GLOVER, STEPHEN, sketch of and song by, 146. God Save the King, 578. Go, forget me ! 243. Goldsmith, Oliver, quoted, 328, 650. Good-night, and joy be wi' ye a' ! 649. Good-morrow, fair mistress 1 air of, 312. GORRIN, CIPRIANO, sketch of and song by, 624. Gow, Nathaniel, his connection with " Caller Her- rin'," 606. Gow, NEIL, songs by, 421, 606. Grammachree, the air of, 228, 249, 568. GRANNIS, S. M., song by, 68. GRANT, Mrs., sketch of and song by, 421. GRANT, Mrs., of Laggan, sketch of and song by, 501. Grave of Bonaparte, The, 558. Graves of a household, The, 74. Greeley, Horace, quoted, 328. Green grow the rashes, 0, 406. Greenville, air of, 226. Greiner, John, song erroneously attributed to, 475. Grey, Capt. Charles, 486. GRIFFIN, GERALD, sketch of and song by, 241. Groves of Blarney, The, 431. Guernsey, Alfred H., quoted, 564. GUERNSEY, WELLINGTON, pong by, 284. Had I a heart for falsehood framed, 249. Hail, Columbia! 586. Hail to tlw chief! 499. HALL, CHARLES, song by, 476. HAMILTON, ELIZABETH, sketch of and song by, 46. HANDEL, GEORG FRIEDRICH, song by, 129. Harris, Chandler, quoted, 563. Hatton, Joseph L., his reminiscences of Mark Lemon, 16. Hawthorne, Nathaniel, his description of Ailing- ham, 423. HAY, DOMINICK M. H., writes an air for " Ben Bolt," 9. HEATH, LYMAN, sketch of and song by, 558. Heaving of the Lead, The, 173. C56 INDEX. HEBER, REGINALD, sketch of, 99 ; songs by, 99, 512. HEFFERNAN, I., song by, 638. HEMANS, FELICIA, sketch of, 215; songs by, 74, 103, 191, 206, 215, 533, 619, 628, 644. Herd, David, his collection of melodies, 380. Here awa', there awa', air of, 368. Here's a health to ane Ilo'e dear, 321. HEWER, W., song probably by, 435. HEWIT, RICHARD, sketch of and song by, 264. HEWITT, D. C., sketch of and song by, 543. Hey, tuttie taittie, air of, 516. Highland Mary, 359. Highland Watch's Farewell, The, air of, 268. HIMMEL, FRIEDRICH HEINRICH, sketch of and song by, 535. HIKE, JAMES, song by, 363. HOARE, PRINCE, sketch of and song by, 167. HOFFMAN, CHARLES FENNO, sketch of and song by, 451. Holmes, Oliver Wendell, quoted, 103, 568, 593, 595, 604. HOGG, JAMES, sketch of and song by, 255. Home, sweet home, 41. HOOD, THOMAS, sketch of and song by, 12. HOOK, JAMES, sketch of, 410 ; songs by, 246, 410. Hook, Theodore, writes Kelly's " Reminiscences," 52. HOPKINSON, JOSEPH, sketch of and song by, 586. HORN, CHARLES EDWARD, sketch of, 301 ; songs by, 274, 301. HORSLEY, WILLIAM, sketch of and song attributed to, 642. HORTENSE, QUEEN, sketch of and song by, 509. Hosmer, William H. C., his lines on Payne, 42. House of Glanis, The, air of, 265. HOWITT, MARY, sketch of and song by, 599. How stands the glass around? 456. HUGHES, Mrs., 215. (See ARKWRIGHT.) Huish the cat from under the table, air of, 259. HULLAH, JOHN, sketch of and song by, 181. HUNTER, MRS. JOHN, sketch of and song by, 285. HUTCHINSON, J. J., song by, 630. Hutchinson, Joshua, 524, 525. HUTCHINSON, JUDSON, sketch of and song by, 537. I am the Duke of Norfolk, air of, 399. fd be a butterfly, 221. Tdbea parody, 223. 1 feed a lad at Michaelmas, air of, 8. If thou wert by my side, 99. TU hang my harp on a willow- tree, 284. I'm saddest when I sing, 98, Incledon, anecdotes of, 121, 176. Indian's death-song, The, 285. 1 ne'er lo'ed a laddie but ane, 381. IngU Side, The, 44. In January last, air of, 371. Inquiry, The, 624. / remember, 14. 1 remember, I remember, 12. Irish tune, The, 82. Irving, Washington, quoted, 310, 357. I see them on their winding vay, 512. Isle of beauty, fare thee well, 95. Ivy Green, The, 210. Jamie's on tJie stormy sea, 159. Janson, Miss, the lass of Richmond Hill, 246. Jeanie Morrison, 314. Jeannette and Jeannol, 338. JEFFERYS, CHARLES, sketch of, 338 ; songs by, 29, 338, 389. Jessie, the Flower o' Dumblane, 372. Jock o' Hazeldean, 371. Jock o' Hazelgreen, old song of, 371. John Anderson, my jo, 399. John Brown's Body, 476. Johnny Armstrong's good night, air of, 650. Johnny Schmoker, probable origin of, 439. John O'Reilly the active, air of, 467. JOHNS, Capt., song by, 115. JOHNSON, DANIEL, sketch of and song by, 100. Jolly Fellow, The, air of, 455. Jolly Young Waterman, TJie, 157. Jones, Penrose, his connection with " Rain on the Roof," 56. JONSON, BEN, songs by, 460, 578. JORDAN, Mrs., song by, 501. Kate Kearney, 418. Kathleen Mavourneen, 333. Kean, Edmund, 175. KELLY, MICHAEL, sketch of and song by, 52. Kennedy, Miss, heroine of Bonnie Doon, 344. KEPPEL, CAROLINE, sketch of and song by, 355. KEY, FRANCIS SCOTT, sketch of and song by, 592. KIALLMARK, E., sketch of and song by, 307, Kidd, William, sketch of, 171. Kind Robin lo'es me, 380. King Charles, 122. King James's march into Ireland, the air of, 82. KING, M. P., sketch of and song by, 122. King, W. A., 122. KINGSLEY, CHARLES, sketch of, 181 ; songs by 181, 187. KlNNEY, COATES, sketch of and song by, 56. KITTREDGE, WALTER, sketch of and song by, 524. Kitty Neil, 259. KNEASS, NELSON, sketch of and song by, 9. KNIGHT, JOSEPH PHILIP, sketch of, 194; songs by, 194, 281. Knipp, Mrs., her singing, 328. K6RNER, KARL THEODORE, sketch of and song by, 535. Laird o' Cockpen, The, 417. INDEX. Lament of the Captive. (See My life is like tJie summer rose.) Lament of the Irish Emigrant, 85. LANDER, JOHN, stanza by, 432. Land o' the Leal, The, 648. Lass o' Gowrie, The, 248. Lass of Richmond Hill, The, 246. Lass o' Patie's Mil, The, 385. Lass that loves a sailor, The, 160. Last Hose of Summer, TJie, 219. Lea Rig, The, 386. LEE, ALEXANDER, sketch of and song by, 504. LEEVES, WILLIAM, song by, 292. LEMON, MARK, sketch of and song by, 16; anec- dote of, 154. Lennie, Wm., his reminiscences of Motherwell, 314. Let Erin Remember, 224. LEVERIDGE, RICHARD, sketch of, 442 ; songs by 125, 442. Le wars, Jessie, 321. Lewie Gordon, air of, 517. LEWIS, MATTHEW GREGORY, sketch of and song by, 300. Lieber Avfgustine, air of, 444. Life on the Ocean Wave, A, 130. Light of otlier days, The, 34. LINDSAY, Miss, song by, 615. Linley, Miss, marries Sheridan, 249. Little Pigs, air of, 474. Lochaber no more, 82. Loch Erroch Side, air of, 248. Lochiel, 510. LOCKHAIIT, JOHN GIBSON, sketch of and song by, 340. LODER, EDWARD J., sketch of, 276 ; songs by, 209, 276. Long Ago, The, 3. LONGFELLOW, HENRY W., sketch of, 620 ; songs by, 230, 609, 620. Lord Uttin's Daughter, 331. Lovely Mary Donnelly, 423. Love not, 236. LOVER, SAMUEL, sketch of, 446 ; songs by, 244, ?80, 313, 392, 404, 407, 412, 415, 446. Love's Ritornella, 251. Love's Young Dream, 238. Low-backed car, The, 404. LOWE, JOHN, sketch of and song by, 309. Macbeth, the music for, 443. McCann, Anthony, inspires Campbell's song, 91. MACKAY, CHARLES, sketch of, 202 ; his " Forty Years' Recollect ions" quoted, 486 ; songs by, 105, 202, 604, 624. McNALLY, LEONARD, sketch of and song by, 246. MACNEILL, HECTOR, sketch of, 376 ; songs by, 376, 381. Macri, Theresa, 269. MAHONY, FRANCIS, stanza by, 432. Maid of Athens, 269. MAIGH, DAVID, song by, 253. MALLET, DAVID, sketch of and song by, 576. March of the Cameron Men, The, 510. Marion Moore, 297. Mary, do you fancy me ? air of, 392. Maryland, My Maryland, 478. Mary of Ar gyle, 382. Mary of the Wild Moor, 303. Mary's Dream, 309. Massa's in the cold, cold ground, 287. Mazzara, Count, patronizes Balfe, 609. MAZZINGHI, Count JOSEPH, sketch of and song by, 541. Medwin, Thomas, quoted, 560. Meeting, The, 463. Meeting of the Waters, Tfie, 267. Meet me by Moonlight, 374. Messenger Bird, The, 644. MICKLE, WILLIAM JULIUS, song claimed for, 394. Mill, Mill 0, The, air of, 519. Miller, James, his connection with " Bonnie Doon," 343. MILLIKIN, RICHARD ALFRED, sketch of and song by, 431. MILNES, RICHARD MONCKTON, sketch of and song- by, 363. Minstrel Boy, The, 523. Minstrel's lit turn, The, 522. Minute Gun at Sea, The, 122. Mistletoe Bough, The, 299. Mitford, Mary Russell, her search for Bonnie Dun- dee, 497. Moir, David M., his opinion of Mrs. Norton's poetry, 31 ; quoted, 326. Moll Roe in the morning, air of, 459. Moll Roone, air of, 461. Mutty Carew, 407. MOORE, THOMAS, sketch of, 32 ; anecdotes of, 238. 467 ; opinion of Sheridan's song, 249 ; opinion of Morris, 465 ; songs by, 32, 52, 204, 21!), O'JU. 224, 227, 237, 238. 250, 260, 267, 307, 357, 457, 459, 461, 463, 467, 515, 523, 565, 567, 568, 613 V 629. MORAN, P. K., song by, 278. Moreen, The, air of, 523. MORGAN, LADY, sketch of and song by, 418. MORUIS, CHARLES, sketch of and song by, 464. MORRIS, GEORGE P., sketch of, 2"> ; Willis's char- acterization of, 622 ; songs by. 25, 274, 305, 622. MOSCHELES, IGNATZ, sketch of and song by, 88. MOTHERWELL, WILLIAM, sketch of and song by_ 314. MOZART, WOLFGANG, sketch of, 248 , songs by 243, 266, 460. MUELLER, J. MAX, sketch of and song by, 7','. My din fireside, 46. 658 INDEX. My Country, 'tis of thee, 595. My dearie, an' thou dee, air of, 304. My heart's in the Highlands, 97. My life is like the summer roue, 233. My lodging is on the cold ground, air of, 381. My Mother's Bible, 622. My Old Kentucky Home, 64 My wife's a winsome wee thing, 390. Nae luck aboot the house, 394. NAIKNE, LADY, sketch of, 484 ; songs by, 248, 417, 484, 486, 606, 648. Napoleon I., his opinion of English music, 343. NATHAN, ISAAC, sketch of and song by, 269. Near the lake, 274. NELSON, SIDNEY, sketch of, 190 ; songs by, 99, 190, 379, 382, 389. NEUKOMM, SIGISMOND, sketch of, 109 ; songs by, 109, 139. New Highland Lad, The, song of, 501. NICOLO, song by, 29. Nid, niil, noddin', song of, 393. Noble Sir Arthur, air of, 420. NOEL, THOMAS, sketch of and song by, 630. NORTON, CAROLINE, sketch of, 30 ; songs by, 31, 102, 236, 537. Oak and the ash, The, 80. O boys, carry me 'long, 286. O'Carrol, his singing, 330. O'Connor, William D., defends Mrs. Allen's title to " Rock me to sleep," 71. Oft in the stilly night, 32. Oh, no, we never mention her, 354. Oh, take her, but be faithful still, 389. Oh, think not my spirits, 467. Old and young courtier, The, ballad of, 435. Old arm-chair, The, 20. Old Dog Tray, 4. Old Dutch Clock. The, 141. Old Folks at Home, 69. Old Head of Dennis, The, air of, 267. Old King Cole, 439. Old Oaken Bucket, The, 18. Old Sexton, The, 632. Old Woman, Tlie. the air of, 233. O Nannie, wilt thou gang id' me? 272. One bumper at parting, 459. O'Neil, A., Irish harper, 503. O, say not tha'. my heart is cold, 228. Osgood, Frances S., her description of Eliza Cook, 20. Oswald, James, his collection of tunes, 265. 0, swiftly glides the bonnie boat, 60. O Tannenbaum, air of, 478. whisle, and I'll come to you, my lad, 420. Paddy Whack, air of, 567. PAINE, ROBERT TIIEAT, Jr., sketch of and song bj 589. Parke, his " Musical Memoirs" quoted, 42. Partant pour la Syrie, 509. Pat Malloy, 89. Pauper's Drive, The, 630. PAYNE, JOHN HOWARD, sketch of and song by ,41 PEARCE, JAMES, sketch of and song by, 173. PEASE, ALFRED H., sketch of and song by, 230. Pepys, Samuel, quoted, 328, 435. PEKCIVAL, JAMES GATES, sketch of and song by 278. PERCY, JOHN, sketch of and song by, 154. PERCY, THOMAS, sketch of and song by, 272. "Perdita," Mrs. Robinson, sketch of, 345. PESTEL, PAUL, sketch of and song by, 491. Phillips, Henry, his story of " The Light of Other. Days," 34; his " Recollections" quoted, 110, 354, 435 ; anecdotes of, 139, 176. PHYLA, Prof., song by, 587. PIERCY, song by, 614. PIKE, ALBERT, sketch of and song by, 580. Pilgrim Fathers, The, 103. Pilot, Tlie, 190. PITT, WILLIAM, sketch of and song by, 114. PLANCHE, JAMES R. , sketch of and song by, 251. Planxty Kelly, air of, 260. Planxty Reilly, air of, 407. Poor Jack, 178. Poor Tom, 162. PORTER, Mrs. DAVID, song by, 8.TJ. Portmore, air of, 97. POWELL, JAMES, stanza by, 154. PRAED, WINTHROP MACKWORTH, sketch of and song by, 14. President's March, air of, 586. PROCTER, BRYAN WALLER, sketch of, 109 ; songa by, 109, 139, 398. PURDAY, C. H., song by, 574. Queen'8 Jig, The, air of, 454. Quodling's Delight, The, air of, 80. Rain on the Roof, 56. Rainy Day, The, 620. RAMSAY, ALLAN, sketch of, 82 ; songs by, 83, 385. RANDALL, JAMES RYDER, sketch of and song by, 478. RAWLINGS, THOMAS A., sketch of and song by, 95. Reasons for Drinking, 464. REEVE, WILLIAM, sketch of and song by, 571. REID, WILLIAM, song by, 248; stanza by, 399. REILLY, MYLES, song by, 83. Roa*tbeefof Old England, The, 442. Robin Adair, 355 ; what Burns and Ix>ver say of it, 241. ROBINSON, MARY, sketch of and song by, 345. Robinson Crusoe, 444. INDEX. Rockaway, 141. Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep, 194. Rock me to sleep, 71. Rogue's March, air of, 571. Roll on, Silver Moon, 347. ROMER, FRANK, sketch of and song by, 17. Itory O'More, 415. Rose of Allandale, The, 379. Roilin Castle, 264. Ross, A. C., sketch of and song by, 473. ROUSSEAU, JEAN JACQUES, sketch of and song by, 226. Roy's wife'of Aldivalloch, 421. Ruffian's Rant, The, air of, 421. Rule, Britannia! 576. Russell, Benjamin, his connection with " Adams and Liberty," 589. RUSSELL, HENRY, sketch of, 21 ; Phillips's opinion of, 202 ; songs by, 21, 26, 31, 105, 130, 141, 202, 210, 623, 632. Saint Patrick was a gentleman, 441. Salis, Johann Gaudeiiz von, stanza quoted from, 388. Sally in our Alley, 369. Sands o' Dee, The, 187. SAKGENT, EPES, sketch of, 130; songs by, 130, 240, 544. SATTER, GUBTAVE, sketch of and song by, 318. Savourneen Deelish, 330 ; air of, 91. Saw ye my wee thing f 376. Scots, W?M hoe wi' Wallace bled, 516. SCOTT, Lady JOHN, sketch of and song by, 365. SCOTT, Sir WALTER, his opinion of Lewis, 301 ; quoted. 138 ; songs by, 266, 371, 497, 499, 508, 518, 522, 541. Sea, The, 109. Shame fa' the gear and the blathrie o't, air of, 256. Shamrock, the, emblem of, 244. Sharpe, Charles Kirkpatrick, quoted, 364. SHARPE, HENRY JOHN, sketch of and song by, 141. SHARPE, R. S. sketch of and song by, 122. SHAW, OLIVER, sketch of, 639 ; songs by, 629, 639. She is far from the land, 357. SHERIDAN, RICHARD BRINSLEY, sketch of and song by, 249. Sherwood, Judge, his account of A. C. Ross and his song, 473. She wore a wreath of roses, 281. SHIELD, WILLIAM, sketch of, 173 ; songs by, 167, 173. Shuckburg, Richard, his connection with " Yan- kee, Doodle," 583. Siller Crown, The, air of, 351. Since Ccelia's my foe, air of, 82. SKINNER, JOHN, sketch of and song by, 492. Skirving, Mr., his Tranent Muir, 510. Slender Coat, The, air of, 262. Slingsby, Jonathan Freke, 259. Smiling Polly, air of, 428. Smith, Asa D., quoted, 642. Smith, Frederick, arranges melody of " Old Oaken Bucket," 19. SMITH, ROBERT ARCHIBALD, sketch of, 872 songs by, 372, 387. SMITH, SAMUEL FRANCIS, sketch of and song by 595. Smoking Away, 453. Soldier's Dream, The, 527. Soldier's Return, The, 519. Soldier's Tear, The, 504. Some love to roam, 202. Southerly wind and a cloudy sky, A, 208. Sparkling and bright, 451. SPENCER, WILLIAM ROBERT, sketch of, 262 ; songs by, 50, 262. Spider and the fly, The, 599. SPILMAN, J. E., song by, 323. Stars of the summer niylit, 230. S.ar-spangkd Banner, The, 592. STEVENS, GEORGE ALEXANDER, sketch of and song by, 120. STEVENSON, Sir JOHN ANDREW, oketch of and song by, 227. Stewart, Mrs. Dugald, 322. STOCKHAUSEN, F., sketch of and song by, 277. Storm, The, 120. Stormy Petrel, The, 139. Strong walls of Derry, The, 97. SULLIVAN, Mrs. M. D., song by, 279. Sword of Bunker Hill, The, 552. Symonds, H. J., quoted, 560. Take me back to Switzerland, 102, Tak" yer auld cloak about ye, 66. TANNAHILL, ROBERT, sketch of, 387 ; songs by, 324, 372, 387. Taylor, Bayard, quotation from poem by, 364. TAYLOR, JAMES B., song by, 451. TENNYSON, ALFRED, sketch of, 37 ; songs by, 87, 199, 615. Tenting on the old camp ground, 524. The harp that once, 568. The heath this night, 541. There's a good time coming, 604. There's nae room for twa, 318. There's nothing true but heaven, 629. The Rose that all are praising, 276. THIBAULT, CHARLES, song by, 235. THOMAS, E.,song by, 296. THOMAS, FREDERICK WILLIAM, sketch of and song by, 296. THOMSON, GEORGE, sketch of and song by, 881 ; his musical work, 8. Those evening betts, 223. Ihou hast wounded the spirit that loved thee, 852. CfiO INDEX. Three Fishers, 181. Thy fair bosom, air of, 565. Tight little Island, The, 571. Tippecanoe and Tyler too, 473. 'Tis good to be off with the old love, air of, 469. ' Tis midnight hour, 263. ' Tis said that absence conquer* love, 296. Titiens, Mile., anecdote of, 333. T" Greece we give our shining blades, 515. TOLEKEN, Mr., song by, 441. Tom Bowling, 163. Too late! 615. Too l>te I stayed, 262. Touch us gently, Time, 398. Trancadillo, 151. Tranent Muir, ballad of, 510. Treasures of the deep, 191. Tree. Miss, sings " Home, sweet home," 42. True love can ne'er forget, 313. Tuttochgor>im,492. TURNER, JOSEPH W., sketch of, 303 ; songs by, 303, 347. 'Twos when the seas were roaring, 128. 1 'Twer '6 vain to tell thee all I feel, 277 Twilight Dews, 229. Tyrolese Evening Hymn, 215. Victoria, Queen, story about, 284. WADE, J. AUGUSTUS, sketch of, 277 ; songs by, 277, 374. Waefu' Heart, 2 he, 320. Wait for the wagon, 429. Wake Nicodemus, 480. Wallack, James W., his singing, 252. WALLACE, WILLIAM R., sketch of and song by, 552. WALLER, JOHN F., sketch of and song by, 259. Wandering Willie, 368. Wapping Old Stairs, 153, WASHBURN, HENRY S., sketch of and song by, 558. Washington's March, air of, 587. Watchman's Song, 638. Waterman. Catherine R., 305. Wearing of the Green, 488. WEBBE, SAMUEL, sketch of and song attributed to, 642. Wedderburn, song from his " Complaynt of Scot- land," 434. Weel may the keel row, 428. We have been friends together, 30. We have lived and loved together, 29. Welcome, The, 366. Welcome, brother debtor, air of, 121. We met, 'twas in a crowd, 349. We're a' noddin', 393. Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sen, A, 137. Wha'tt be King but Charlie? 484. What ails this heart o' mine f 304. What are the Wild Waves Saying .? 146. What's a' the steer, kimmer ? 488. What will you do, love ? 280. When other friends are round thee, 305.' When shatt we three meet again ? 042. When she cam ben, she bobbit, air of, 417. When stars are in the quiet skies, 258. Wlten the kye comes hame, 255. When the ?iiffht-wind bewaileth, 240. While History's muse, 567. WHITE, E., song by, 434. White Squall, The, 1 15. Why, soldiers, why f 456. Widow Machree, 412. WIESENTHAL, T. V., song by, 45. Wife, children, and friends, 50. WILDE, RICHARD HENRY, sketch of and song by 233. WILLARD, EMMA, sketch of and song by, 194. Will you come to the bower ? air of, 599. WILSON, ALEXANDER, sketch of and song by, 311 Within a mile of Edinboro', 410. WOLFE, CHARLES, sketch of, 560 ; his story of Dermid, 219 ; songs by, 228, 243, 560. Wolfe, Gen. James, anecdote of, 456. Woodman, spare that tree ! 25. Woodpecker, The, 52. WOODWORTH, SAMUEL, sketch of and song by, 18 WORK, HENRY C., sketch of and song by, 480. Would I were a boy again, 16. Wounded Hussar, The, 543. Wrangham, Archdeacon, his translations, 354. Yankee Doodle, 583. Tear that's awa', The, 469. Ye mariners of England, 573. Yes, the die is cast, 491. Young May Moon, The, 250. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. r^c OMflU QCT05J992 AUG 1 9 1992 .