Songs of the Naughty Nineties

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!