Speranza
Songs of the Naughty Nineties
1890
With my seaweed in my hand, I got into the train.
All the pubs were
closed, when I got out again.
I couldn't get a drink - with thirst I thought
I'd die,
And s soon as I touched my seaweed I knew it was going to be
dry.
1890
I never
was a one to go and stint myself
if I like a thing, I like it - that's
enough
but there's lots of people say that if you like a thing a lot
it'll
grow on you, and all that sort of stuff!
I always hold in having it if you
fancy it
if you fancy it that's understood
& suppose it makes you fat
I don't worry over that
'cos A LITTLE OF WHAT YOU FANCY DOES YOU GOOD.
1890
the sun has got his hat on
hip hip hip
hooray
the sun has got his hat on
& he’s coming out today
now we'll
all be happy
hip! Hip! Hip! Hooray
the sun has got its hat on
&
he’s coming out today.
1890
Irving Berlin
Ev'rybody's
doin' it, Doin' it, Doin' it,
Ev'rybody's doin' it, Doin' it, Doin'
it,
See that ragtime couple over there,
Watch them throw their shoulders
in the air.
Snap their fingers, Hony, I declare.
It's a bear, it's a
bear.....There!
Ev'rybody's doin' it, Doin' it, Doin' it,
Ev'rybody's
doin' it, Doin' it, Doin' it,
Ain't that music toughing your heart?
Hear
that trombone bustin' apart?
Come, come, come, come, let us
start,
Ev'rtbody's doing it now.
1890
Call around any
old time and make yourself at home.
Put your feet up on the mantleshelf, open
the door and help yourself.
I don't care if your friends have left you all
alone,
Rich or poor, knock on the door, And make yourself at
home.
1890
If I
catch Alphonso Spagoni*, the Toreador,
With a mighty swipe I will dislocate
his bally jaw!
I'll find this bullfighter, I will, and when I catch the
bounder, the blighter I'll kill.
He shall die! He shall die! He shall die
tiddly-I-it-it-it-it-it-it!
He shall die! He shall die!
For I'll raise a
bunion on his Spanish onion if I catch him bending
tonight!
1890
I know a fat old policeman
He's
always on our street
A fat and jolly red-faced man
He really is a treat
He's too kind for a policeman
He's never known to frown
And
everybody says
He is the happiest man in town!
He laughs upon point duty
He laughs upon his beat
He laughs at everybody
When he's walking in
the street
He never can stop laughing
He says he's never tried
But
once he did arrest a man
And laughed until he cried!
His jolly face is
wrinkled
And then he shut his eyes
He opened his great big mouth
It
was a wonderous size!
He said: "I must arrest you!"
He didn't know what
for
And then he started laughing
Until he cracked his jaw!
So if you
chance to meet him
While walking 'round the town
Shake him by his fat
ol' hand
And give him half a crown
His eyes will beam and sparkle
He'll gurgle with delight
And then you'll start him laughing
With all
his blessed might!
1890
"I like
pickled onions,
I like piccalilli.
Pickled cabbage is alright
With a
bit of cold meat on Sunday night.
I can go termartoes,
But what I do
prefer,
Is a little bit of cu-cum-cu-cum-cu-cum,
Little bit of
cucumber."
1890
Let's
all go down the strand (have a banana)!
Let's all go down the strand
I'll
be leader you can march behind
Come with me and see what you can
find
Let's all go down the strand
Oh what a happy land
That's the place
for fun and noise
All among the girls and boys
So let's all go down the
strand.
1890
Let's all
sing like the birdies sing,
Tweet, tweet tweet, tweet tweet.
Let's all
sing like the birdies sing,
Sweet, sweet sweet, sweet sweet.
Let's all
warble like nightingales,
Give your throat a treat.
Take your time from
the birds,
Now you all know the words,
Tweet, tweet tweet, tweet
tweet.
1890
I'm one of the
ruins that Cromwell knocked about a bit,
One of the ruins that Cromwell
knocked about a bit.
In the gay old days there used to be something
doing
No wonder that the poor old abbey went to ruin.
Those who raise
their voices sing and shout of it,
You can bet your life there isn't a doubt
of it.
Outside the Oliver Cromwell last Saturday night
I was one of the
ruins that Cromwell knocked about a
bit.
1890
At the end of
my old cigar, hurrah, hurrah, hurrah
Strode down Piccadilly, imagined “I’m a
star!”
Not so very handsome but I’m a bit of a la-di-dah
I tickled the
ladies' fancy with the end of my old cigar
La la la-la-la-la-la
La la
la-la-la-la-la
1890
"'Arry,
'Arry, 'Arry - 'Arry,
You've got a chance to marry,
A nice little widow,
with a nice little pub,
Plenty of bacca, beer, and plenty of grub.
I could
come round and see you,
And keep you company,
It would be nice for you and
her,
And wouldn't it be nice for
me."
1890
I live in
Trafalgar Square,
With four lions to guard me.
Fountains and statues all
over the place,
And the metropolis staring me right in the face.
I'll own
it's a trifle drafty,
But I look at it this way, you see:
If it's good
enough for Nelson,
It's quite good enough for
me.
1890
"I'm following in father's
footsteps,
I'm following me dear old dad
He's just in front with a fine
big gal,
So I thought that I'd have one as well.
I don't know where he's
going,
But when he gets there I'll be glad!
I'm following in father's
footsteps, Yes,
I'm following me dear old dad!"
1890
Oh! Mr.
Porter, what shall I do?
I want to go to Birmingham
And they're taking me
on to Crewe,
Send me back to London as quickly as you can,
Oh! Mr. Porter,
what a silly girl I am!
1890
WHERE
DID YOU GET THAT HAT? Where did you get that tile
Isn't it a nobby one &
just the proper style
I should like to have one Just the same as
that
where'er I go, they shout "Hello! WHERE DID YOU GET THAT HAT
1890
she was as beautiful as a
butterfly
& proud as a queen
was pretty little POLLY PERKINS
OF
PADDINGTON GREEN
1890
I'M HENERY THE
EIGTH I am - Henery the Eigth, I am, I am
I got married to the widow next
door
she's been married seven times before
every one was a Henery never
had a Willie or a Sam
I'm her eighth old man named Henery -Henery the Eighth
I am
1890
WHEN FATHER
PAPERED THE PARLOUR
you couldn't see him for paste
slapping it here,
slapping it there
paste and paper everywhere
mother was stuck to the
ceiling
the kids were stuck to the floor
I've never seen such a bloomin'
family so stuck up
before.
1890
ANY OLD IRON ANY
OLD IRONY any, any, any old iron
you look sweet - talk about a treat
you
look dapper from yer napper to yer feet
dressed in style, with a brand new
tile
& your father's old green ties on
O I wouldn't give you tuppence
for your old watch chain
Old Iron! Old
Iron!
1890
Darling
I am growing old
SILVER THREADS AMONG THE GOLD
hine upon my brow
today
life is fading fast
away.
1890
"I'm
shy, Mart Ellen, I'm shy.
It does seem so naughty, oh my!
Kissing is nice,
that I've often heard say,
But, still, how to do it? I don't know the
way.
So you put your arm round my waist,
I promise I won't scream or
cry,
So you do the kissing and cuddling instead
'Cos I'm shy, Mary Ellen,
I'm shy."
1890
"Wotcher", all the neighbours cried,
"Who yer goin'
to meet, Bill?
"Have you bought the street, Bill"?
Laugh - Lord, I thought
I should've died,
I knocked 'em in the Old Kent
Road.
1890
WHAT A MOUTH WHAT A MOUTHWhat a North
and South
Blimey, what a mouth he's got"
now when he was a baby,
Lord-oh-luvver
his poor old muvver used to feed him with a shovel
what a
gap! Poor chap! He's never been known to laugh
'cos if he did, it's a penny
to a quid that his face would fall in
half!
1890
TWO LITTLE GIRLS
IN BLUE lad
two little girls in blue
they wer two sisters, we were two
brothers
& learned to love the two
& one little girl in blue,
lad
who won your father's heart
became your mother, I married the
other
but now we have drifted apart.
1890
All me
life I wanted to be a barrer-boy
A barrer-boy Ive always wanted to be
I've
got me papers - I carry them with pride
I'm a coster, a coster, from over the
other side
I turned me back upon the whole society
& gone to where the
ripe bananas grow
they're only a dozen a shilling
that's how I earns me
living
I oughter been a barrer-boy years ago
Gerroff me barrer
O I
oughter been a barrer-boy years
ago.>
1890
I'm
Burlington Bertie I rise at ten thirty
and saunter along like a toff
I
walk down the Strand with my gloves on my hand
Then I walk down again with
them off
I'm all airs and graces correct easy paces
Without food so long
I've forgot where my face is
I'm Bert, Bert, I haven't a shirt
But my
people are well off you know.
Nearly everyone knows me from Smith to Lord
Rosebr'y,
I'm Burlington Bertie from Bow.
1890
'Cos fer breakfast
I never thinks of havin' tea.
I likes me half a pint of ale.
And fer
dinner I likes a little bit of meat,
And half a pint of ale.
Now fer tea I
likes a little bit of fish,
And half a pint of ale.
But fer supper I likes
a crust of bread and chees,
And a pint and a half of ale.
1890
Now
it really is a very pretty garden.
And Chingford on the Eastward can be
seen.
With a ladder and some glasses
You can see to Hackney Marshes,
If
it wasn't for the houses in between.
1890
It's a great big shame, an'
if she belong'd ter me
I'd let 'er know who's who.
Naggin at a feller wot
is six foot free,
And her not four foot two!
Oh! they 'adn't been married
not a month nor more,
When underneath her fumb goes Jim -
Isn't it a pity
as the likes ov 'er
Should put upon the likes ov 'im?
1890
Down
the road, away went Polly - with a step so jolly
That I knew she'd
win.
Down the road, the pace was killing, but the mare was willing
For a
lightning spin.
All the rest were licked and might as well as ne'er been
born.
Whoa mare! Whoa mare! You've earned your little bit of
corn.
1890
“Your baby has gone down the plug-hole
Your baby has
gone down the plug
The poor little thing was so skinny and thin
It should
have been washed in a jug
Your baby is ever so happy
He won’t need a bath
any more
Your baby has gone down the plug-hole
Not lost but gone
before.”
1890
"I don't want to play in your yard,
I don't
love you any more,
You'll be sorry when you see me
Swinging on my garden
door._
You can't come and pick my pansies,
You can't climb my apple
tree,
I don't want to play in your yard
If you won't be good to
me.
1890
Don't have nay more, Missus Moore, ___
Missus Moore,
please don't have any more, ____
The more you have, the more you want they
say,
But enough is as good as a feast any day.
If you have many more,
Missus Moore, ____
You'll have to rent the house next door.
They're all
right when they're here,
But take my advice, my dear,
Don't have any more,
Missus More!
1890
Up the apples an' pears, and across the
Rory O' Moor,
I'm off to see my dear old Trouble and Strife.
On the Cain
and Able, you will always see
A pair of Jack the Rippers and a cup of Rosy
Lee.
What could be better than this -
A nice old cuddle and kiss -
All
beneath the pale moonlight.
Then some Tommy Tucker and off to Uncle
Ned.
Oh What a luverly night tonight.
1890
In Westminster not
long ago,
There lived a Ratcatcher’s Daughter.
She was not born at
Westminster,
But on t’other side of the water.
Her father killed rats and
she sold sprats,
All round, and over the water,
And the gentlefolks, they
all bought sprats,
Of the pretty Ratcatcher’s Daughter.
She wore no hat
upon her head,
Nor cap, nor dandy bonnet,
Her hair of her head it hung
down her neck,
Like a bunch of carrots upon it.
When she cried sprats in
Westminster,
She had such a sweet loud voice, Sir,
You could hear her all
down Parliament Street,
And as far as Charing Cross, Sir,
The rich and
poor both far and near,
In matrimony sought her,
But at friends and foes
she cocked her nose,
Did this pretty little Ratcatcher’s daughter.
For
there was a man cried "Lily white Sand,"
Who in Cupid’s net had caught
her,
And over head and ears in love,
Was the pretty little Ratcatcher’s
daughter.
Now, "Lily white Sand" so ran in her head,
When coming down the
Strand, oh,
She forgot that she’d got sprats on her head,
And cried "buy
my lily white Sand oh!"
The folks, amazed, all thought her crazed,
All
along the Strand, Oh,
To hear a girl with sprats on her head,
Cry, "buy my
lily white Sand, oh!"
The Ratcatcher’s Daughter so ran in his head,
He
didn’t know what he was arter,
Instead of crying "Lily white Sand,"
He
cried "Do you want any Ratcatcher’s daughter."
His donkey cocked his ears and
brayed,
Folks couldn’t tell what he was arter,
To hear a lily white sand
man cry,
"Do you want any Ratcatcher’s daughter?"
Now they both agreed to
married be,
Upon next Easter Sunday,
But the Ratcatcher’s daughter had a
dream,
That she shouldn’t be alive next Monday,
To buy some sprats, once
more she went,
And tumbled into the water,
Went down to the bottom, all
covered with mud,
Did the pretty little Ratcatcher’s daughter.
When Lily
white Sand he heard the news,
His eyes ran down with water,
Says he in
love I’ll constant prove,
And, blow me if I live long arter,
So he cut his
throat with a piece of glass,
And stabbed his donkey arter,
So there was
an end of Lily white Sand,
His ass, and the Ratcatcher’s
daughter!
1890
Julia Marion Manley.
when you see
her
remember that she's my girl
there's no boy in the land
who can
steal my pearl
for she loves only me does this maid divine
try as you may
you can't win her away
for SHE’S MINE ALL MINE
The
sweetest girl in all the town
will shortly be my wife
& all the lads
are jealous
of the luck I'll have for life
she's ev'rything that I could
wish
no better girl I know
I'm sure that we'll be happy,
for we love
each other so
she's just the sort of girl
you'd turn to look at on
the street
as pretty as a picture
& in style not swell, but
neat
for she's the kind you read about
& with me you'll agree
you'd
like to be in my place
but this girl belongs to
me.
1890
Jean Baptiste
Faure
join all & sing his name declare
let ev'ry
voice resound with acclamation
hosanna praised be the lord
bless him who
cometh to bring us salvation
O'er all the way GREEN
PALMS & blossoms gay
Are strewn this day in festal preparation,
Where
Jesus comes, to wipe our tears away,
E'en now the throng to welcome him
prepare
His word goes forth, and peoples by its might,
Once more regain
freedom from degradation,
Humanity doth give to each his right,
While
those in darkness find restored the light,
Sing and rejoice, oh, blest
Jerusalem,
Of all thy sons sing the emancipation,
Through boundless love,
the Christ of Bethlehem,
Brings faith and hope to thee forever
more,
1890
Little Tich
I am a
bolger sold - I mean I'm soldier bold
I'm not so young as I used to be before
I got so old
I am a regular toff I am, I am, I am, I say I am
But you
can't tell what's inside the jar by the label on the jam.
For I am a
soldier, a territorial
The girls will say when I'm on parade
'There's one
of the boys of the old brigade'
If ever I go to war, I'll drive the enemy
barmy
Hi, Hi, never say die
I'm one of the deathless
army.
1890
Mascagni – Cavalleria
rusticana. Milano. Londra. Set to English by F. E. Weatherly.
o pietosa tu
che sufristi tanto
vedi o vedi il mio penar
nell’ cruele ambasce d’un
infinito pianto
deh no m’abbandonar
Ave Maria,madre Santa,
Sorreggi il
piè del misero che t'implora,
In sul cammin del rio dolor
E fede,e speme
gl'infondi in cor.
O pietosa,tu che soffristi tanto,
Vedi,ah! vedi il
mio penar.
Nelle crudeli ambasce d'un infinito pianto,
Deh! non
m'abbandonar.
Ave Maria! In preda al duol,
Non mi lasciar,o madre
mia,pietà!
O madre mia,pietà! In preda al duol,
Non mi lasciar,non mi
lasciar.
Ave Maria,Hear my cry
O guide my path,where no harm,
no
harm is nigh.
Oh turn thy heart to earth and see
my lonely heart and
comfort me
Mother see mt tears,
my tears are falling.
Thou hast
also sorrow known,
life ah it is so dreary,
my heart it is so
weary.
Ah,leave me not alone!
O Mother hear me in the light.
Look
down on me,my comfort be
And guide my stepe a right.
O mother hear me
where thou art
And guard and guide my aching heart,
my aching
heart
1891
Raymon Moore.
happy then we'll be
sweetheart
when we meet no more to part
in the future bye &
bye
we'll be happy YOU & I
Sweetest love wil come at last for you
and I
Sorrow deep will soon be past for you and I
I'll be yours and you'll
be mine, with a fond, pure love divine
The sun of happiness will shine on you
and I,
Gliding down the stream of life, you and I
Loving husband, faithful
wife You and I
Happy and contented rest, with the one we each love
best
We'll build a loving little nest for you and
I.
1891
KISS & LET’S MAKE UP my
darling
dry your tears don't cry in vain
for you know I love you
darling
yes I know I was to blame
so you wished you'd never met
me
don't say that my little pet
what would this life be without
you
KISS & LET’S MAKE UP
Two lit-tle play-mates, a boy and a
girl
Were play-ing one day on the sands
They had built up a house of
pret-ty sea-shells,
With no tools but their lit-tle brown hands;
At last
it was fin-ished, their work was well done,
And two lit-tle hearts were made
glad;
When the boy just for fun gave a kick, then did run,
And down came
the house on the sands,
The girl for a mo-ment stood shocked and sur-prised,
Then tears to her pret-ty eyes came
I'll nev-er for-give him, she
sob-bing-ly cried,
Oh how could my Jack be so mean!
And when the lad saw
his sweet-heart in tears,
He man-ful-ly to her side came,
And throw-ing
his arms a-round her dear form,
said "Kiss and let's make up a-gain
The
years rolled by, the lad sailed a-way,
The maid-en she wait-ed in vain,
Could Jack have for-got-ten those bright hap-py days,
When oft to the
cot-tage he came;
The shells by the sea-shore are strewn all a-bout;
Each one brings fond mem-o-ries back,
When they built lit-tle hous-es
up-on the warm sands,
She and her boy lov-er Jack,
He prom-ised to write
to her once ev-'ry week,
Had an oth-er fair face won his heart!
Or else
had he tired of his true coun-try lass,
Was he sat-is-fied that they should
part?
But the true hon-est fel-low was sail-ing back home,
To the girl
who was wait-ing in vain,
To hear his dear voice whis-per low in her ear,
"come Kiss and let's make up a-gain
1891
Leo Dryden
the log was burning
brightly
‘twas the night that should banish all sin
All the bells were
ringing the old year out
& the new year in.
I saw the old homestead
& faces I knew
I saw England’s valleys & dells
& I listened
with joy as I did when a boy
to the sound of the old village bells
the
stars were shining brightly
’twas the night your poor granny fell ill
all
the bells were ringing the old year out
& the new year
in.
It’s ten weary years since I left England’s shore
for a
distant far country to roam,
how I long to return to my own native land
to
my friends and the old folks at home.
last night as I slumbered I had a
strange dream
a dream that brought distant lands near
I dreamt of old
England the land of my birth
the heart of her sons ever dear.
While
the joyous bells rang as I wended my way,
To the house where I lived as a
boy,
I passed by the window and there sat by the fire,
Were my parents, my
heart filled with joy.
The log burnt so brightly it was keeping them
warm,
On a night that could banish all sin,
And the bells they were
ringing, the old year out,
And the new year in.
At the door of the
house there we stood face to face,
For the first time in ten weary
years,
Soon the past was forgot, and we stood hand in hand,
Father, mother
and wanderer in tears.
And the log burnt so brightly, it was keeping
us warm,
On a night that would banish all sin,
And the bells they were
ringing, the old year out,
And the new year in.
And the bells they
were ringing, the old year out,
And the new year
in.
1891
Harris. From “A trip to Chinatown”
AFTER THE BALL
is over
after the break of morn –
after the dancers' leaving;
after the
stars are gone;
many a heart is aching,
if you could read them
all;
many the hopes that have vanished
after the ball.
A little
maiden climbed an old man's knee,
Begged for a story – "Do, Uncle,
please.
Why are you single; why live alone?
Have you no babies; have you
no home?"
"I had a sweetheart years, years ago;
Where she is now pet, you
will soon know.
List to the story, I'll tell it all,
I believed her
faithless after the ball."
Bright lights were flashing in the grand
ballroom,
Softly the music playing sweet tunes.
There came my sweetheart,
my love, my own –
"I wish some water; leave me alone."
When I returned
dear there stood a man,
Kissing my sweetheart as lovers can.
Down fell the
glass pet, broken, that's all,
Just as my heart was after the ball.
Long
years have passed child, I've never wed.
True to my lost love though she is
dead.
She tried to tell me, tried to explain;
I would not listen,
pleadings were vain.
One day a letter came from that man,
He was her
brother – the letter ran.
That's why I'm lonely, no home at all;
I broke
her heart pet, after the ball
1891
1892
CLOSING
of the “Royal Italian Opera”.
Last season of the Royal Italian Opera.
1892
M: F. A. Alexander, w: Robert Donnelly.
PLEASE
LET MOTHER COME HOME AGAIN
we want her, daddy and I
PLEASE LET MOTHER
COME HOME AGAIN
back from your beautiful sky
she is an angel I know very
well
you will know her for Maggie's her name
I can see that my daddy is
breaking his heart
so let mother come home again.
Daddy, dear daddy, why do you sigh,
Each time you
gaze at my mother's frame,
You know she's an angel up in the sky,
How I
would love to have her home again;
My teacher at school only told me
today,
That God hears a little child's prayer
So out in the playground I
went on my knees,
And said as I gazed in the air;
Daddy,I've noticed each
time you come home,
Your eyes always wander to dear mother's face.
Was she
so good dad? I was so young,
I cannot remember her here in this place.
Let
us kneel down dad and I'll say a prayer
A prayer to the one that's
above,
To send home again to my daddy and me
The mother we so dearly
love.
The man, brokenhearted, The tears falling fast,
Joined in the most
fervent prayer of his life.
"I'd for give all her faults," he tenderly
cried,
"Oh! what would I give to see my dear wife!"
he had ne'er told
his child his wife ran away
And left him nigh mad with despair;
The door
slowly opened, the mother appeared,
As she entered she heard her child's
prayer
.
1892
Daisy Daisy
give
me your answer do
I’m half crazy
all for the love of you
It won’t be a
stylish marriage
I can’t afford a carriage
but you’d look sweet
on the
seat
of a bicycle built for two
Michael Michael
This is my answer
dear
I can’t cycle
it makes me feel so queer
if you can’t afford a
carriage
forget the blooming marriage
for I’ll be damned
if I’ll be
jammed
in a bicycle built for two.
There is a flower
within my heart,
Daisy, Daisy,
Planted one day by a glancing
dart,
Planted by Daisy Bell.
Whether she loves me or loves me
not
Sometimes it's hard to tell,
And yet I am longing to share the
lot
Of beautiful Daisy Bell.
We will go tandem as man and
wife,
Daisy, Daisy,
Ped'ling away down the road of life,
I and my Daisy
Bell.
When the road's dark, we can both despise
P'licemen an lamps as
well.
There are bright lights in the dazzling eyes
Of beautiful Daisy
Bell.
I will stand by you in wheel or woe
Daisy,
Daisy,
You'll be the bell which I'll ring you know
Sweet little Daisy
Bell
You'll take the lead on each trip we take
Then if I don't do
well
I will permit you to use the brake
beautiful Daisy
Bell
1892
Hamilton/Potter, “Private Tommy Atkins” --
From “A Gaiety Girl: a musical comedy”
private Tommy Atkins
you're a
good’un, heart & hand
you're a credit to your calling
& to all
your native land
may your luck be never failing
may your love be ever
true
god bless you Tommy Atkins
here's your country's love to
you.
O, we take him from the city or the plough,
And we
drill him, and we dress him up so neat,
We teach him to uphold his manly
brow,
And how to walk, and where to put his feet.
It doesn't matter who he
was before,
Or what his parents favor'd for his name;
Once he's pocketed
the shilling,
And a uniform he's filling,
We'll call him Tommy Atkins, all
the same.
In time of peace he hears the bugle call
And in Barracks, from
"Revally" to "Lights Out!"
If "Sentry go" and "Pipeclay" ever
pall,
There's always plenty more of work about.
On leave o’nights you meet
him in the streets
As happy as a school boy, and as gay;
Then back he goes
to duty,
All for Country, Home and Beauty
And the noble sum of half a
crown a day.
In wartime then, it's "Tommy to the Front!"
And we ship him
off, in "Troopers" to the fray,
We sit at home while Tommy bears the
brunt,
A fighting for his country - and his pay.
And weather he's on
India's coral strand
Or pouring out his blood in the Soudan,
To keep our
flag a-flying
He's a doing, and a dying,
Ev'ry inch of him a soldier and a
man
1892
Tabrar. It was written for, and first performed by,
Vesta Victoria at the South London Palace, holding a kitten. Introduced in a
revue.
DADDY WOULDN’T BUY ME A BOW WOW
I’ve got a little cat
&
I’m very fond of that
but I’d rather have a bow wow ow.
I love
my little cat, I do
With soft black silky hair
It comes with me each day
to school
And sits upon the chair
When teacher says "why do you
bring
That little pet of yours?"
I tell her that I bring my cat
Along
with me because
We used to have two tiny dogs
Such pretty little
dears
But daddy sold 'em 'cause they used
To bite each other's ears
I
cried all day, at eight each night
Papa sent me to bed
When Ma came home
& wiped my eyes
I cried again and said
I'll be so glad when I get
old
To do just as I "likes"
I'll keep a parrot and at least
A half a
dozen tykes
And when I've got a tiny pet
I'll kiss the little
thing
Then put it in its little cot
And on to it I'll
sing
1892
Leoncavallo, “Pagliacci” – Milano – Londra.
ridi pagliaccio
sul tuo amore infranto
ridi del duol
che
t’avvelena il cor
1892
Fred Gilbert
as I walk along
the Bois
Boolong
with an independent air
you can hear the girls declare
he must
be a millionaire
you can hear them sigh
& wish to die
you can see
them wink the other eye
at the man who broke the bank at Monte
Carlo.
I've just got here, through Paris, from the sunny
southern shore;
I to Monte Carlo went, just to raise my winter's
rent.
Dame Fortune smiled upon me as she'd never done before,
And I've now
such lots of money, I'm a gent.
Yes, I've now such lots of money, I'm a
gent.
I stay indoors till after lunch, and then my daily walk
To the great
Triumphal Arch is one grand triumphal march,
Observed by each observer with
the keenness of a hawk,
I'm a mass of money, linen, silk and starch –
I'm
a mass of money, linen, silk and starch.
I patronised the tables at the Monte
Carlo hell
Till they hadn't got a sou for a Christian or a Jew;
So I
quickly went to Paris for the charms of mad'moiselle,
Who's the loadstone of
my heart - what can I do,
When with twenty tongues she swears that she'll be
true?
1892
------------------------------------------------------Jerusalem,
Jerusalem
lift up your gates and sing
hark, how the
angels sing
sing for the night is
o'e
--------------------------------------------------------Hosanna
in the highest
hosanna to your king
hosanna to your king
hosanna for evermore
Last night I lay
a-sleeping
there came a dream so fair
I stood in old Jerusalem
beside
the temple there
I heard the children singing
& ever as they
sang,
methought the voice of angels
from heav'n in answer
rang.
& then methought my dream was
chang'd,
the streets no longer rang,
Hush'd were the glad Hosannas
The
little children sang.
The sun grew dark with mystery,
The morn was cold
and chill,
As the shadow of a cross arose
Upon a lonely
hill.
and once again the scene was chang'd;
New
earth there seemed to be;
I saw the Holy City
Beside the tideless
sea;
The light of God was on its streets,
The gates were open wide,
And
all who would might enter,
And no one was denied.
No need of moon or stars
by night,
Or sun to shine by day
It was the new Jerusalem
That would
not pass
away.
Weatherly/Maybrick
1892
Rudyard
Kipling, Barrack Room Ballad. Set to music in 1907 by Oley Seaks.
By the
old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin',
and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the
temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to
MANDALAY"
Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can't
you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to
Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder
outer China 'crost the Bay!
'Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap
was green,
An' 'er name was Supi-yaw-lat — jes' the same as Thebaw's
Queen,
An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,
An'
a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot:
Bloomin' idol made o'
mud —
Wot they call the Great Gawd Budd —
Plucky lot she cared for idols
when I kissed 'er where she stud!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the
flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the
Bay!
When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin'
slow,
She'd git 'er little banjo an' she'd sing "Kulla-lo-lo!"
With 'er
arm upon my shoulder an' 'er cheek agin my cheek
We useter watch the steamers
an' the hathis pilin' teak.
Elephints a-pilin' teak
In the sludgy, squdgy
creek,
Where the silense 'ung that 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to speak!
On
the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up
like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
But that's all shove be'ind me —
long ago an' fur away,
An' there ain't no 'buses runnin' from the Bank to
Mandalay;
An' I'm learnin' 'ere in London what the ten-year soldier
tells:
"If you've 'eard the East a-callin', you won't never 'eed naught
else."
No! you won't 'eed nothin' else
But them spicy garlic
smells,
An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly
temple-bells;
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes
play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
I
am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
An' the blasted
English drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho' I walks with fifty
'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but
wot do they understand?
Beefy face an' grubby 'and —
Law! wot do they
understand?
I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
On
the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up
like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
Ship me somewheres east of Suez,
where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an'
a man can raise a thirst;
For the temple-bells are callin', an' it's there
that I would be —
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the
sea;
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay,
With our sick
beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
O the road to
Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder
outer China 'crost the Bay!
1892
Lyrics were written by Albert Chevalier.
Music composed by his brother Auguste under the name Charles Ingle. A tribute to
Chevalier's wife Florrie. The song's title refers to a 1880s colloquialism for a
partner or friend. The phrase has a number of etymologies; two Cockney rhyming
slang explanations identify the phrase as coming from "dutch plate" ("mate") or
"Duchess of Fife" ("wife"). Chevalier, however, claimed that his wife's face
reminded him of the clock face of a Dutch clock.
we’ve been together now for
forty years
an’ it don’t seem a day too much
there ain't a lady livin’ in
the land
as I’d swop for my dear old dutch.
I've got a
pal
a reg’lar out an' outer,
she's a dear good old gal,
I'll tell yer
all about 'er.
It's many years since fust we met,
'Er 'air was then as
black as jet,
It's whiter now, but she don't fret,
Not my old
gall
I calls 'er Sal,
'Er proper name is Sairer,
An' yer may find
a gal
As you'd consider fairer.
She ain't a angel — she can
start
A-jawin' till it makes yer smart,
She's just a woman, bless 'er
eart,
Is my old gal!
Sweet fine old gal,
For worlds I wouldn't
lose 'er,
She's a dear good old gal,
An' that's what made me choose
'er.
She's stuck to me thru thick & thin,
When luck was out when
luck was in
Ah wot a wife to me she's been,
An' wot a pal!
I sees
yer Sal —
Yer pretty ribbons sportin'
Many years now, old gal,
Since
them young days of courtin'.
I ain't a coward, still I trust
When we've to
part, as part we must,
That Death may come & take me fust
To wait...
my pal.
1893
Mascagni/Weatherly.
Intermezzo. Ave Maria.
1893
John T. Kelly.
a little brown
cot,
a shady green spot,
no happier home I find;
my heart's fairly
gone,
I love only one
she's THE GIRL I LEFT BEHIND.
There's a pretty spot in Ireland
Where a little
cottage stands
A rustic home I cherish, with a pride
It's old fashioned,
rough and dingy
And was built by honest hands;
But what a lovely jewel
shines inside
It's not a costly jewel that the wealth of gold could
buy
But a warm hearted lassie with fond lovelight in her eye
Oh, my heart
it grows impatient & I have no peace of mind
for I long to see the girl I
left behind
When I first met charming Norah
It was on a summer's
night
With all the lads and lassies on the green
'Twas the same old tale
repeated
I was captured at first sight
For in my eyes she looked an ideal
queen
The piper with his merry tunes, what joy he did impart
But the notes
of her sweet voice they struck a chord within my heart
in my dreams I see a
vision of a face so good and kind
For I long to see the girl I left behind.
1893
M: H. W. Petrie, w: Miss C. Saunders.
TAKE
UP THY CROSS
& FOLLOW ME
my blood my blood
was shed for
thee
I love to hear my Saviour's voice
It bids my weary heart
rejoice
I love to hear him say to me
Come to the cross of Calvary."
When sin and grief my path surround
I love to hear the blissful
sound,
A mansion I've prepared for thee
Come, poor sinner, come to
me.
I love to hear Him kindly say
I am the truth, the life, the way
Oh,
come to me, be not cast down
I'll ransome thee, give thee a crown,
Cast
sin away, in glory rest
I ransome all, by sin opprest
Take up thy cross
and follow me
my blood, my blood was shed for
thee."
1893
Theo. Moses Tobani. Hearts and
flowers.
1893
Sullivan.
“UTOPIA LIMITATA ovvero I FIORI DEL PROGRESSO”(“An Original Comic OPERA in Two
Acts, entitled UTOPIA LIMITED, or The Flowers of Progress”). Londra: Teatro di
Savoia.
A TENOR ALL SINGERS ABOVE
this doesn't admit of a
question
should keep himself quiet
attend to his diet
and carefully
nurse his digestion
but when he is madly in love
it's certain to tell on
his singing
you can't do chromatics
with proper emphatics
when anguish
your bosom is wringing
when distracted with worries in plenty
and his
pulse is a hundred and twenty
and his fluttering bosom the slave of mistrust
is
a tenor can't do himself justice.
1893
Sullivan. UTOPIA
In such a
case
upon your breast
my blushing face
I think I'd rest
then perhaps
I might
demurely say
I find this breastplate bright
is sorely in the
way
our mortal race
is never blest
there's no such case
as perfect
rest
some petty blight
asserts its sway
some crumbled rose-leaf
light
is always in the way.
Zara—Fitzbattleaxe.
In such a
case ---------------- our mortal race
upon your breast ------------ is never
blest
my blushing face-----------there’s no such case
I think I'd rest
---------------as perfect rest
On your breast -------------perfect rest
On
your breast ------------perfect rest
In perfect rest ------------as perfect
rest.
1893
Sullivan. UTOPIA
Words of love too loudly
spoken/Ring their own untimely knell;/Noisy vows are rudely broken,/Soft the
song of Philomel./Whisper sweetly, whisper slowly,/Hour by hour and day by
day;/Sweet and low as accents holy/Are the notes of lover's lay.
SWEET
& LOW
Sweet and low
Sweet and low as accents holy
Are the notes of
lover's lay
Are the notes of lover's lay.
Let the conqueror, flushed with
glory
Bid his noisy clarions bray
Lovers tell their artless story
In a
whispered virelay.
False is he whose vows alluring
Make the listening
echoes ring
Sweet and low when all-enduring
Are the songs that lovers
sing
Sweet and low,/Sweet and low,/Sweet and low when all-enduring
Are the
songs that lovers sing,/Are the songs that lovers sing! /Sweet and low,/Sweet
and low
1894
She told me her age was five and
twenty.
Cash in the bank of course she'd plenty.
I like a lamb believed it
all,
I was an M - U - G.
At Trinity church I met my doom.
Now we live
in a top back room.
Up to my eyes in debt for renty,
That's what she's
done for me!
1894
M: John W. Bratton, w: Walter H. Ford.
ONLY ME
ONLY ME
sobbed in a weary tone
wrung from an innocent baby's heart
that
felt so much alone
one got the kisses & kindly words
that was her pet
Marie
one told her troubles to bees & birds
that one was ONLY ME.
A mother of fashion, was being arrayed
by her dainty
French maid Babette
her two little girls in the nursery played
but one was
her darling, her pet
a sound from the room caused the mother to cry
was
that you my dear Marie
the answer came back twixt a sob and a sigh
No
mamma it's only me.
Close to a white cot, on a bright summer day
The
mother's heart wakened at last
The life of her baby was ebbing away
The
tears of repentance fell fast;
Now don't you cry, mamma dear, you needn't
care
It isn't your dear Marie
& maybe the Angels will have love to
spare
A little for only me."
1894
M: Chas B.
Lawlor, w: James W. Blake. The sidewalks of New York.
1895
H.
Wendell Tennant.
she's just nineteen my lovely Irene
& pure as the
angels above
roses so fair, they do not compare
with Irene the girl that I
love
lovely divine, I'll soon call her mine
& we shall be happy
ever
happy through life as man and wife
AFTER THE WEDDING IS OVER.
A maiden so fair, that no others compare
Is my sweetheart
Irene so true
My happiness I cannot suppress
For darling I love but you
The lily and the rose
by the little stream that flows
Wait and listen
for our footsteps
as we wander through the dell,
And they droop their
heads and sigh
as together we pass by
While to my love the secret
of my
heart I tell.
Now soon by my side
will stand Irene my bride
for this is
to be our wedding day
the church bells will ring
the choir sweetly
sing
& to Irene my bride I'll say
when first we met I loved you
and
you promised to be true
now in my heart I know
that you have always kept
your vow
so my darling I will be
always good and true to thee
I loved
you when we first met
& I love you darling now.
1895
M: John W. Bratton, w: Walter H. Ford.
she's THE
SUNESHINE OF PARADISE ALLEY
ev'ry Sunday down to her home we go
all the
boys & all the girls they love her so
always jolly heart that is true I
know
she is THE SUNSHINE OF PARADISE ALLEY. .
There's a little side street such as often you
meet
Where the boys of a Sunday night rally
Tho' it's not very wide, and
it's dismal beside
Yet they call the place Paradise Alley
But a maiden so
sweet, lives in that little street
She's the daughter of widow
MacNally
She has bright golden hair, and the boys all declare
When
O'Brien's little lad had the fever so bad
That no one would dare to go near
him
Then this dear girl so brave, said
I think I can save, or at least I
can comfort and cheer him,
Soon the youngster got well,
and the neighbors
all tell
How the daughter of widow MacNally
Risked her life for a boy, and
they hail her with joy
As the sunshine of Paradise Alley
She's had offers
to wed by the dozen, 'tis said
Still she always refused them politely
But
of late she's been seen with young Tommy Killeen
Going out for a promenade
nightly,
We can all guess the rest, for the boy she loves best
Will soon
change her name from MacNally
tho’ he may change her name she'll be known
just the same
As the sunshine of Paradise
Alley.
1895
Gussie L. Davis. The pastor’s
resignation.
sad was the scene many eyes filled with tears
asked to
resign where he'd preach'd forty years
he gave them his blessing in tones
soft & kind
& fond hearts were aching when the pastor resigned.
The aged pastor bowed his head
within the altar
rails,
His hands were tremulous with age,
his sight and hearing
fails;
But now the leaders of the church,
the influential clan,
Had
called on him to yield his place,
to hold a younger man,
In tears he
spoke of mem'ries sweet,
of dim and distant days,
Of forty years of
constant toil,
of pain, and pray'r and praise;
Of children christened by
his hand,
who stood before him still,
While some reposed beneath the
flowr's
upon the distant hill.
The saddened people silent sat,
as he resumed his chair,
While rays of sunshine softly fell,
and
played upon his hair;
The organ broke the silence then
with sweetly
solemn roll,
With "Rock of Ages," ol, yet new,
to ev'ry saddened
soul,
The people rose to be dismissed,
the pastor lingered still,
And
smiling, looked out at the graves
upon the distant hill;
But when they
sought with gentle touch,
to wake the musing mind,
They found that death
had call'd him home,
their pastor had resigned.
1895
M: Felix McGlennon, w: Tom Browne.
THE SONG THAT WILL LAST FOR EVER
for ever & for aye
ages may come
& ages may go the song shall live always
while human hearts are beating
on the land or foam
THE SONG THAT WILL LAST FOR EVER
is home sweet home
the home
'Twas a glorious night, and the moon shone
brightly
As around the campfires the soldiers lay
Their hearts were bold,
and they beat, ah, so lightly
Tho' they might be still'd in the coming
fray,
It was all in vain that they courted slumber
So they rous'd and sat
there the whole night long
Telling tales and talking the old times
over
When at last one sang them a old sweet song
as the words rang out in
that faroff wildwood
ev'ry warm, true heart breathed a silent pray'r
for
they tho’t of homethe dear home of their childhood
& the ones they lov'd
who were waiting there.
Ah! they thought of parents, of wives and
children
Sweethearts, friends and playmates across the foam
There were
brave men's tears in the husky voices
As they join'd the chorus of "Home,
Sweet Home."
Hark! what was that?A bugle call?
To arms! to arms! to
arms
Upsprang those gallant heroes then to face grim war's alarms
And fast
they're battling there 'gainst death,
'mid bay'net, shot and shell;
Where
fighting to the last, the gallant soldier singer fell
The soldier singer
fell
He hears the cry of, "Victory!" and, with his dying reath
He bids his
comrades not to grieve for his, a soldier's death.
"Goodbye," he cries
"Goodbye! I liv'd for those across the foam
For them I die! God bless them,
boys, I've sung my last of Home!" ]
1895
M:
Chas. B. Ward, w: John F.
Palmer.
1897
M:
J. S. Fearis, w: Jessie Brown Pounds. Beautiful Isle of Somewhere.
1897
Barrett.
LITTLE DOLLY DAYDREAM PRIDE OF IDAHO
so now you know & when ye
go
you'll see there's somethin' on her mind don't think it's you
’kase no
one's got to kiss dat garl but me.
I've waited long to have ma
say
till Southern garls have had deir day
I've got de smile now all de
wh
now just anoder maidy come to stay
dose garls way down would get no
show
dey'd stand no chance in Idaho
she ain't no piccann
from way down
or West Virginny
but she sits a-dreaming
where de Salmon Waters
flow
why does she sit & sigh
dis little lady dis little lady o
why
does she droop her eye
dis purty maidy dis lubly garl
don't ye know well
don't ye see
it is bekase she is so love-sick all froo me
I ain't spoke
yet nor her to me
but lor ye purty soon can see
she's only waitin' for me
statin'
dat I'm just as much in lub as she.
dere's one poor cuss, she
fools him so
he tells dem all round Idaho
dat he's her best
intended
bekase deir styles has blended
but she fools wid him to
send
my jealous on de go..
1896
Richard Stahl.
that's THE
GIRL YOU DREAM ABOUT
when you awake she's gone
tho' you search the wide
world o'er
you won't find such a one
ev'ry girl is nice &
sweet
till you have found her out
heed advice and only love
THE GIRL
YOU DREAM ABOUT
There's only one girl I could love,
And
she's the world to me!
I never met her, Tho' for her
I've searched o'er
land and sea.
She may be rich or very poor,
She may be dark or fair;
It
matters not I only know,
For her alone I care.
Fair Marguerite and
dear Louise,
Both have seen better days;
My Angeline and Sweet
Marie,
They too have had their praise.
Two little girls dressed all in
blue,
Or others you'll recall;
They all are fair, but none compare,
with the sweetest girl of all.
The proverb says that love is
blind,
And yet it finds the way,
To stick close to your pocketbook
As
long as you can pay;
But when your riches all are gone,
You'll find love
too is dead.
My sweetheart's love can never die,
It grows far more
instead.
1896
John O’Shea
The prince
rides up to the palace gates,
And his eyes with tears are dim.
For he
thinks of the beggar maiden sweet
Who never may wed with him,
For HOME IS
WHERE THE HEART IS
In dwelling great or small,
And there's many a splendid
palace,
That's never a home at all.
The yeoman comes to his cot,
With a
song when the day is done,
For his dearie is standing in the door,
And his
children to meet him run,
Could I but live with my own
sweetheart,
In a hut with sanded floor,
I'd be richer far than a loveless
man
With fame and a golden store,
For HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS
In
dwelling great or small,
And a cottage lighted by lovelight,
is the
dearest home of all.
1896
M: Adam Geibel, w: Richard Henry
Buck.
fly away fly away KENTUCKY BABE
fly away to rest fly away
lay
yo' kinky woolly head on yo' mammy's breast
um um close yo' eyes in sleep.
'Skeeters am a hummin' on de honey suckle
vine,
Sleep, Kentucky Babe!
Sandman am a comin' to dis little coon of
mine,
Sleep, Kentucky Babe!
Silv'ry moon am shinin' in de heabens up
above,
Bobolink am pinin' fo' his little lady love,
You is mighty lucky,
Babe of old Kentucky,
Close yo' eyes in sleep.
Daddy's in the canebrake
wid his little dog and gun,
Sleep, Kentucky Babe!
Possom fo' yo' breakfast
when yo' sleepin' time is done,
Sleep, Kentucky Babe!
Bogie man 'll ketch
yo' sure unless yo' close yo eyes,
Waitin' jes' outside de doo' to take yo'
by surprise,
Bes' be keepin' shady, Little colored lady,
Close yo' eyes in
sleep.
1896
M: Joe
Hayden, w: Theo. A. Metz. A hot time in the old
town.
1896
SWEETHEART
MAY
when you grow up one day
you may marry another & my love
betray
but I’ll wait for you
& then we shall see
what you will
do
when I ask you to marry me.
Long ago an angel I knew ,if
ever a one was seen,
She was a bonnie sweet child of eight, and I was just
eighteen :
And every night she'd sit on my knee, her arms round my neck &
say
I love you, I love you, and when I grow big, now promise to marry
your
May.
I went one day to countries away, to lands over sea to tread,
Trials and troubles of life I met, as years lay on my head ;
But every
night I'd think of that child, her smile and her young love sigh?
I longed
just to see her grown up sweet eighteen, my May of the
days gone by.
I
came back again, and I found her at last to a beautiful woman grown,
I asked
her to think of those old happy days, but the memory was mine alone;
I stood
there before her, I sang the old song, she couldn't recall it,
I begged her
to try ;
She said, I forget you ; besides we must part, to-morrow I'm going
to be married ; good-bye
.
1895
Leslie Stuart. Composed for the
opening of the Manchester Ship Canal. Incorporated in “An artist’s model: a
musical comedy.”
it's THE SOLDIERS OF THE QUEEN my lads
who've been, my
lads, who've seen, my lads
in the fight for England's glory lads
when
we've had to show them what we mean:
& when we say we’ve always won
& when they ask us how it's done
we'll proudly point to every one
of England's soldiers of the Queen.
Britons once did loyally
declaim
About the way we ruled the waves.
Every Briton's song was just
the same
When singing of her soldier-braves.
All the world had heard
it--
Wondered why we sang,
And some have learned the reason why--
But we're not forgetting it,
And we're not letting it
Fade away and
gradually die,
Fade away and gradually die.
So when we say that
England's master
Remember who has made her so
1895
Connor
she was s dear little dicky
bird,
chip chip chip she went
sweetly she sang to me
till all my money
was spent;
then she went off song
we parted on fighting terms.
SHE WAS
ONE OF THE EARLY BIRDS
& I WAS ONE OF THE WORMS.
It was at the Pantomime
Sweet Mabel and I did
meet
She was in the ballet front row
And I in a five shilling seat;
She
was dressed like a dicky bird,
Beautiful wings she had on,
Fighure divine,
wished she were mine,
On her I was totally gone.
At the stage door
ev’ry night,
I waited with my boquet,
Till my bird had moulted, and
then
We’d drive in a hansom away.
Oyster suppers and sparkling
“Cham”
Couldn’t she go it! What ho
Fivers I spent, tenners I lent,
For
to her I couldn’t say “No”.
Elskin coats and diamond rings
Knocked
holes in my purse alone,
She would have ‘em and in the end
I got hers by
pawning my own.
When at last I was fairly broke,
‘Twixt us a quarrel
arose,
Mabel the fair pulled out my hair,
And clawed all the skin off my
nose.
Full of love and poverty,
And armed with a carving knife,
I
dark night I knelt in the mud
And asked if she’d be my wife.
Something
struck me behind the ear,
Someone said “Now go and get
Wife of your own,
leave me alone!”
And that was the last time we
met.
1895
Sidney
Jones.
dream o my dearest till we meet once more
daydreams of happiness
again in store
dreams of a future that our fates may hold
pass'd in the
wonderland of love untold.
How can I wait - when she I worship
only,
Friendless and fair, my help may sorely need?
How can I wait, and
leave her sad and lonely,
Counting the hours that all too slowly
speed?
Earth has no grace that does not cling about her -
Life has no
charm, if mine she may not be;
STAR OF MY SOUL I cannot live without
her;
O grant this day may give her back to me!
Glory of flow'rs and
fairy-land around me,
Over my path the joyous sunlight falls;
Yet is my
dear, whose charms so fast have bound me,
Caged like a bird within those
gilded walls.
Would I could break the cruel bonds that hold her,
Snap
ev'ry chain that keeps us two apart!
STAR OF MY SOUL the half I have not told
her
Of all the love that fills my beating heart!
1896
w.
Katherine E. Purvis m. James M. Black
when the saints ARE marching
in.
1896
Gilbert e Sullivan. IL GRAN DUCA,
ossia il duelo statutario. “An Original Comic Opera, in Two Acts, entitled THE
GRAND DUKE, or, The Statutory Duel.” Londra: Teatro di Savoia.
Were I a
king in very truth/and had a son, a guileless youth/in probable succession/to
teach him patience, teach him tact,/how promptly in a fix to act,/he should
adopt, in point of fact,/a manager’s profession,/to that condition he should
stoop/despite a too fond mother/with eight or ten stars in his troupe/all
jealous of each other all jealous of each other /Oh, the man who can rule a
theatrical crew,/each member a genius (and some of them two),/and manage to
humour them, little and great,/can govern this tuppenny State./Chorus.Oh, the
man who can rule a theatrical crew,/each member a genius (and some of them
two),/and manage to humour them, little and great,/can govern State, govern this
State!/This poor State! /Both A and B rehearsal slight –/They say they’ll be
“all right at night”/(They’ve both to go to school yet);/C in each act must
change her dress,
D will attempt to “square the press”;/ won’t play Romeo
unless/His grandmother plays Juliet;/F claims all hoydens as her rights/(She’s
played them thirty seasons);/And G must show herself in tights/For two
convincing reasons – /Two very well-shaped reasons! Oh, the man who can drive a
theatrical team,/With wheelers and leaders in order supreme,/Can govern and
rule, with a wave of his fin,/All Europe – with Ireland thrown in!Chorus.Oh, the
man who can drive a theatrical team,/With wheelers and leaders in order
supreme,/Can govern and rule, with a wave of his fin,/All Europe, all Europe –
with Ireland thrown in.
the good Grand Duke of Pfennig Halbpfennig
tho’ in
his own opinion very very big
in point of fact he’s nothing but a miserable
prig
is the good Grand Duke of Pfennig Halbpfennig
tho’ quite
contemptible, as every one agrees
we must dissemble if we want our bread and
cheese
so hail him in a chorus with enthusiasm big
the good Grand Duke of
Pfennig Halbpfennig
the good, the good Grand Duke of Pfennig
Halbpfennig.
1896
Puccini, “Scene della vita di boemia”
Talor del
mio
forziere
1897
M:
Paul B. Armstrong, w: Clara Scott.
angels ever bright and
fair
take oh take me to your care.
In the choir
loft 'midst the surplic'd throng,
In the old cathedral grand,
Stood a
slender youth who bore on high,
A gold cross in his hand;
On his face
there shone and angel smile,
In his eye's beam'd a holy light,
And thro'
the lofty windows stream'd
A flood of sunshine bright;
It seem'd like a
light from heaven,
In a benediction there,
As it softly fell upon
him,
And shone on his face so fair.
He sang with a voice so
heav'nly,
That the angels must pause to hear,
And as he sang that old, old
song,
We can feel their presence near:
In the holy light of
Easter morn,
The choir had gather'd there,
And from dimly lighted vestry
mov'd
'Mid banks of lilies fair;
But one is missing from their ranks,
'Tis the boy with the angel face,
With aching hearts and tearful
eyes,
They gaze on the vacant place;
A hush of a holy silence,
Fell
upon all gather'd there,
When the hands of those who lov'd him,
Laid a
wreath on the vacant chair.
Tho' we see not that face so heav'nly,
With
its soft halo light of gold,
Yet we listen for that angel voice,
And the
song he sang of old:
1897
M: Monroe H. Rosenfeld, w:
Louis W. Pritzkow. Take back your
gold
1898
W.
T. Jefferson.
LOVE ME AS I LOV EYOU my love
& let me call you all my
own
LOVE ME AS I LOVE YOU my love
the only love my heart has known.
The cottage is furnished and ready
I think you can
guess who it's for
Ev'ry thing ready for you love
All but the name on the
door
The neighbors are waiting to greet you
To welcome you to our
home
To welcome the Queen of my kingdom
For I cannot reign there
alone
The flow'rs are abloom in the garden
Ablaze with the joy of spring
time
But not a flow'r that is there love
Compares with the flow'r that is
mine
The birds are singing of you dear
I almost can tell what they
say
They sing of the Queen of my kingdom
They sing of our wedding day.
1898
M: Stanley Carter, w: Harry
Braisted
SHE WAS BRED IN OLD KENTUCKY
where the meadow grass is
blue
there's the sunshine of the country in her face & manner too
SHE
WAS BRED IN OLD KE NTUCKY
take her boy, you're mighty lucky
when you
marry a girl like Sue.
When a lad,
I stood one day by
a cottage far away,And to me that day,
all nature seem'd more grand;
For
my Sue, with blushes red, had just promised we should wed,
And I'd come to
ask her mother for her hand.
As I told the old, old tale,
of a love that
n'er would fail,
The grayhaired mother stroked her daughter's head,
And I
fancied I could trace just a tear on her kind face,
As she placed my
sweetheart's hand in mine and said,
Many years have pass'd away
since that well remember'd day,
When to that dear old Kentucky home I
came;
And my happiness thro' life, was my sweetheart friend and wife,
For
the sunshine in her heart remained the same.
I am sitting all alone, in the
place we've long called home,
For yesterday my darling passed away;
Tho'
in tears I think with joy of the day when but a oy,
That I took her hand and
heard her mother say,
1898
Lyn Udall.
one thought of mother at home alone
feeble & old & gray
one of
the sweetheart he left in town
happy & young & gay
one kissed a
ringlet of thin gray hair
one kissed a lock of brown
bidding farewell to
the stars & stripes
JUST AS THE SUN WENT
DOWN.
After the din of the battle's roar
Just at the
close of day
wounded and bleeding upon the field
two dying soldiers
lay
one held a ringlet of thin gray hair
one held a lock of
brown
bidding each other a last farewell
just as the sun went down
one
knew the joy of a mother's love
one of a sweetheart fair
thinking of home
they lay side by side
breathing a farewell pray'r
one for his mother, so
old and gray
one for his love in town
they closed their eyes to the earth
and skies
just as the sun went down.
1898
Dinah
de moon am shinin'
for you dis coon am pinin'
my arm will soon aroun'
your wais' be twinin'
KISS ME HONEY DO
When de cot-ton
fields am with-ered
an' de corn am in de groun'
At de cab-in of his
Din-ah
dis coon's al-ways hang-in' roun'
When de twi-light am all fad-ed
an' de sun am gone to res'
Den I ser-e-nades de la-dy I loves bes'
When my boat is on de ba-you drift-in'
down de sil-ver tide
There's a choco-late col-ored la-dy
snug-glin' close up by my side
With her head up-on my should-er
while I hold her lil-y han'
Then I
hear my ba-by wisp-er to her
man
1898
The American
Eagle
no lyrics, m: by: Ernst
Fischer
1898
w.m. James Thornton, born in
Liverpool, England. He died in New York City.
I love you as I never
loved before
since first I met you on the village green
come to me or my
dream of love is o’r
I love you as I loved you WHEN YOU WERE SWEET
when
you were sweet SIXTEEN
when first I saw the love-light in your
eyes
I dreamed the world held not but joy for me
& even tho’ we
drifted far apart,
I never dream but what I dream of
thee
1898
ma n’atu sole
cchiù bello oi ne’
’o sole mio
sta nfronte a
te
’o sole ’o sole mio sta nfronte a te sta nfronte a
te
che bella cosa è na jurnata ’e
sole
n’aria serena doppo na tempesta
pe’ ll’aria fresca para già na
festa
che bella cosa na jurnata ’e sole.
quanno fa notte e
’o sole se ne scenne
me vane quasi ’na malincunia
sotta ’a fenesta toia
restarria
quanno fa notte e ’o sole se ne
scenne.
what a beautiful thing is a sunny day,
the air is serene after a storm, the air is so fresh that it already feels like
a feast, but another sun that's brighter still, it's my own sun that's upon your
face, the sun, my own sun, it's upon your face. When night comes and the sun has
gone down, I almost start feeling melancholy; I'd stay below your window.
1898
Barrett
she's my lady love,
she
is my dove my baby love,
she's no gal for sitting down to dream,
she's the
only queen Laguna knows;
I know she likes me I know she likes me
becase
she says so;
she is ma LILY OF LAGUNA
she is ma Lily and ma
Rose.
It's de same old tale of a palpatating niggar
ev'ry time,
ev'ry time;
It's de same old trouble of a coon
Dat wants to be married
very soon;
It's de same old heart dat is longing
for it's lady ev'ry time,
yes ev'ry time,
But not de same gal, not de same girl
She is ma Lily, ma
Lily, ma Lily gal!
She goes ev'ry sundown, yes, ev'ry sundown
Callin' in
de cattle up de mountain;
I go kase she wants me, yes, 'kase she wants
me
Help her do de callin' and de countin'.
She plays her music
To call
de lone lambs dat roam above,
But I'm de black sheep and I'm waitin'
For
de signal of ma little lady love.
When I first met Lil it was down at old
Laguna
at de dance, oder night;
So she says: "Say, ah'm curious for to
know
When ye leave here de way yer goin' to go,
'Kase a wants to see who
de lady is
dat claims ye all way home, way home tonight."
I says, "I've no
gal, never had one,"
And den ma Lily, ma Lily, ma Lily gal!
She says,
"Kern't believe ye, a kern't believe ye,
Else I'd like to have ye shaperoon
me;
Dad says he'll escorcht me, says he'll escorcht me,
But it's mighty
easy for to lose him.
Since then each sun-down
I wander down here and roam
around
Until I know ma little lady wants me,
Till I hear de music ob de
signal sou
1898
Cobb and Barnes, written during the Spanish
War. Included by Noel Coward in “Cavalcade”.
goodbye Dolly I must leave you
tho’ it breaks my heart to go
something tells me I am needed at the front to
fight the foe
see the boys in blue are marching & I can no longer
stay
hark I hear the bugle calling GOODBYE DOLLY GRAY
I have
come to say good-bye Dolly Gray
it's no use to ask me why Dolly
Gray
there's a murmur in the air you can hear it everywhere
it's the time
to do & dare Dolly Gray
so if you hear the slap of feet Dolly
Gray
sounding thru the village street Dolly Gray
it's the tramp of
soldiers true in their uniforms so blue
I must say goodbye to you -- Dolly
Gray
hear the rolling of the drums Dolly Gray
back from war the
regiment comes Dolly Gray
on your lovely face so fair I can see a look of
fear
for your soldier boy's not there Dolly Gray
for the one you love so
well Dolly Gray
in the midst of battle fell Dolly Gray
with his face
toward the foe as he died he murmured low
I must say goodbye & go Dolly
Gray.
1898
o listen to the band
how merrily they play
o
don't you think it grand
hear ev'rybody say
o listen to the band
who
doesn't love to hark
to the shout of here they come
& the banging of
the drum?
o listen to THE SOLDIERS IN THE PARK .
Where's the
music that is half so sweet--
As the trample of the soldiers' feet?
Come
and listen to the march they play--
I can hear them from afar,
With their
gay tarantara,
And I know they're coming nearer,
for they always pass
this way.
How the children and the nursemaids run,
See their faces as they
cry "What fun!"
Crowds are flocking from the Marble Arch,
And they race
across the grass
Just to see the soldiers pass,
For there's magic in the
music of a military march.
1899
J. A. Shipp
THE MAN
IN THE MOON MIGHT TELL might tell
yes THE MAN IN THE MOON MIGHT TELL
he
sees all we do & he knows so well
O THE MAN IN THE MOON MIGHT TELL.
Why pretty girls always go out in the rain,
The man
in the moon might tell!
It's rather a tickelish thing to explain,
but the
man in the moon might tell!
When it rains on the streets they are sure to be
found,
With dainty skirts lifted way off of the ground,
Why they raise
them the most where no wet spots are found?
The man in the moon might
tell!
Why do some men stand on the corners and stare?
The man in the
moon might tell!
At all pretty girls who know just what to wear?
The man
in the moon might tell!
His umbrella he'll offer if lady has none,
He'll
get a good drenching and think it is fun,
Why, he won't take his sisters a
block in the sun,
The man in the moon might tell!
There's a question
that often comes up in my mind,
the man in the moon might tell!
In vain I
have sought information to find,
The man in the moon might tell!
Is there
any such thing as a man in the moon?
If there is, did he go up there in a
balloon?
What I want to know, is he white or a coon?
The man in the moon
might tell!
1899
M: Fred V. Bowers,
w: Chas Horwitz.
ALWAYS ALWAYS I will love you ALWAYS
do not fear my
love is true,
& I live alone for you,
ALWAYS ALWAYS I will love you
ALWAYS
love like mine is ever thine,
& it lives ALWAYS ALWAYS.
You ask me if this love of
mine,
Sweetheart, will ever die,
If time will change my feelings,
dear,
I answer with a sigh;
While life will last, while flowers
bloom,
While birds sing sweet their way,
The love so deep within my
heart,
Will live each night and day.
The poet sings of love,
sweetheart,
Of love, dear, such as mine,
Of all the gifts that heaven
gives, 'Tis love that is divine;
When lips are sealed the eyes will
speak,
They tell a tale so true,
Is language plain this sweet
refrain,
My eyes will say to you.
1899
Dacre.
I'LL BE YOUR SWEETHEART if you
will be mine
all my life I'll be your valentine
bluebells I've gathered
keep them & be true
when I'm a man my plan will be to marry you.
One
day I saw two lovers in a garden
A little lad and lass with golden
hair
They looked as sweet as honey in a beehive
And so I stood and watched
the youthful pair
The lad, all blushing, gave the maid a kiss
Then
tenderly he whispered this,
The bluebells were accepted
by the maiden
She said, “I'll keep them safely all my life
But then
suppose you meet some other lady
And I should never be your darling
wife?”
He shook his head and took another kiss
Then once again he
whispered this,
The years flew by and once again I saw them
They stood
before the alter hand in hand
A handsome pair I never shall forget
them
The happiest young couple in the land
Then once again he took the
loving kiss
Then passionately whispered
this,
1899
She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she
comes
when she comes
She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she
comes
when she comes
She'll be coming 'round the mountain
she'll be
coming 'round the mountain
she'll be coming 'round the mountain when she
comes
when she comes.
She'll be drivin' six white horses when she
comes.
Oh we'll all come out to meet her when she comes.
She'll be wearing
pink pajamas when she comes.
We will kill the old red rooster when she
comes.
We'll all be shoutin' "Halleluja" when she comes.
She'll be comin'
down a road that's five miles
long.
1899
Men: Tell me pretty
maiden,
Are there any more at home like you?
Girls: There are a few, kind
sir,
But simple girls, and proper too.
Men: Then tell me pretty
maiden,
What these very simple girlies do.
(Girls: Kind sir, their manners
are perfection,
(Men: Then tell . . . me, maiden,
(Girls: And the opposite
of mine. . . .
(Men: What the girlies . . do. . . .
Men: Then take a
little walk with me,
And then I can see
What a most particular
girl
(should be
(Girls: I may
love you too well to let you go
And
flirt with those at home, you know.
Men: Well, don't mind little
girl,
You'll see I'll only want
(but you.
(Girls: It's not
quite
fair to them
If you told them that you were
(Girls: true
Men: I
won't
Care a pin for your sisters if you love
(Men: me
(Girls: What
would you say
If I said I liked you well?
Men: I'd vow to you
Girls: On
bended knee!
Men: On bended knee!
Girls: If I loved you,
Would you tell
me what I ought to do
To keep you all mine alone,
To always be true to
me?
If I loved you,
Would it be a silly thing to do?
For I must love
some one,
Men: Then why not me?
Girls: Yes, I must love some one,
really,
And it might as well be you!
Girls: Tell me, gentle
stranger,
Are there any more at home like you?
Men: There are a few, sweet
maid,
And hotter boys you never knew.
Girls: Then tell me gentle
sir,
The things these very rakish fellows do:
Men: Dear maid,
(Girls:
Then
(Men: they flirt with girls too freely,
(Girls: tell . . . . me, tell
me
(Men: And it's not the same girl twice.
(Girls: What these fe . .llows
do!
Then take me round and let them show,
For an hour or
so,
How far such fellows can
rea(lly go!
(Men: I never
introduce
them to a girl, I intend
To be my most particular friend.
Girls: I won't
mind what they do -
No man . . would ever flirt
(with me.
(Men: It's
not worth risking
it - I know with them you won't
(agree.
(Girls: I
don't want
to know them, if you will do the
flirting
(Men: Of
course
I will try, for we're doing very well.
Girls: I'll vow to you
-
Men: On bended knee -
Girls On bended knee -
Men: If I loved
you,
Would you tell me what I ought to do
To keep you all mine
alone,
To always be true to me?
If I loved you,
Would it be a silly
thing to do?
For I must love some one,
Girls: Then why not me?
Men:
Yes, I must love some one, really.
And it might as well be you!
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
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