Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Victorian Songs

Speranza

Victorian Songs

--- Pages from the Victorian Song Book.

1837
Donizetti, La figlia del reggimento.


o destin o tal favor
la sua mano e eil mio cor.
e finito il mio penar
son marito e militar




1839
M: Charles E. Horn, w: Geo. P. Morris, Esq.















NEAR THE LAKE WHERE DROPP’D THE WILLOW
long time ago
where the rock threw back the billow
brighter than snow
mingled were our hearts forever
long time ago
can I now forget her? Never! No
Lost one, no
To her grave these tears are given
ever to flow
she's the star I miss'd from heaven
Long time ago.


1841
From “Vocal Melodies of Scotland”

o ye'll tak' the high road & ah'll tak' the low road
& ah'll be in Scotlan’ afore ye
fir me an' my true love will ne’er meet again
on the bonnie bonnie banks o' Loch Lomon'.





by yon bonnie banks
an' by yon bonnie braes
whaur the sun shines bright
on Loch Lomond
where me & my true love
were ever lak tae gae
on the bonnie bonnie banks
o' Loch Lomon'.



'twas there that we perted
in yon shady glen
on the steep steep sides
o' Ben Lomon'
whaur in soft purple hue
the hielan hills we view
an' the moon comin' oot
in the gloamin’.


the wee birdies sing
an' the wild flouers spring
an' in sunshine the waters are sleeping
but the broken heart
it kens nae second spring again
tho' the waeful may cease
frae their greetin'.


1842
Verdi, Nabucodonosor.

va' pensiero sull'ali dorate
va' ti posa sui clivi sui colli
ove olezzano tepide e molli
l’aure dolci del suolo natal!
del Giordano le rive saluta,
di Sionne le torri atterrate.
o mia Patria, sì bella e perduta!
o membranza sì cara e fatal!
arpa d'or dei fatidici vati,
perché muta dal salice pendi?
le memorie del petto riaccendi,
ci favella del tempo che fu!
o simile di Solima ai fati,
traggi un suono di crudo lamento;
o t'ispiri il Signore un concento
che ne infonda al patire virtù
che ne infonda al patire virtù al patire virtù


1842
Wagner – Cola di Rienzo






1843
I come to town de udder night,
I hear de noise and saw de fight,
De watchman was a runnin' round,
Cryin' Old Dan Tucker's come to town,


So get out de way,Ole Dan Tucker,
get out de way, Ole Dan Tucker,
get out de way, Ole Dan Tucker,
You're too late to come to supper.



Dan Tucker is a nice old man,
He used to ride our darby ram;
He sent him wizzin down de hill,
If he hadn't got up, he'd lay dar still.



Old Dan Tucker an I got drunk,
He fell in de fire an kick up a chunk,
De charcoal got inside he shoe,
Lor bless you, honey, how de ashes flew.



I went to town to buy some goods,
I lost myself in a piece of woods,
De night was dark, I had to suffer,
It froze de heel of Daniel Tucker.



Tucker was a hardened sinner,
nebber said his grace at dinner,
De old sow squeel de pigs did squall,
He whole hog wid de tail and all.


And now Ole Dan is a gone sucker,
He nebber can go home to supper,
Old Dan he has had him last ride,
An de banjo's buried by his side.





1843
De boatman dance, de boatman sing,
De boatman up to eb'ry ting,
And when de boatman get on de shore,
He spends his cash and works for more.


Dance, de boatman, dance,
O dance, de boatman dance,
O dance all night 'till broad day light,
And go home wid de gals in de morning.
Hi ho, de Boatman row,
Floating down de ribber on de Ohio.




De boatman is a thrifty man,
Da is none can do as de boatman can,
I neber see a pretty girl in all my life
but dat she was some boatman's wife.


when you go to de boatman's ball,
Dance wid my wife or not at all;
Skyblue Jacket an tarpaulin hat,
Look out my boys for de ninetail cat.



When de boatman blows his horn,
Look out old man your hog is gone,
He steal my sheepm he cotch my shoat,
Den put em in bag an toat em to boat.







1843
w. Alfred Bunn m. Michael William Balfe from the opera The Bohemian Girl (“La Zingara”). The very successful 1858 run of La zingara at Her Majesty's Theatre in London, for which Balfe was rewarded with an extra cheque for fifty pounds, starred Marietta Piccolomini, Marietta Alboni and Antonio Giuglini.[3


I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls
with vassals & serfs at my side
& of all who assembled within those walls
that I was the hope and the pride.
I had riches too great to count, could boast
Of a high ancestral name.


I dreamt that suitors sought my hand.
that knights upon bended knee,
& with vows no maiden's heart could withstand,
They pledg'd their faith to me.
& I dreamt that one of that noble host
Came forth my hand to claim.
.

but I also dreamt, which pleased me most
that you lov'd me still the same
that you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same,
that you lov'd me, you loved me still the same.


1843
Verdi, I Lombardi alla prima crociata

o signore, dal tetto natìo
ci chiamasti con santa promessa
noi siam corsi all'invito di un pio
giubilando per, l'aspro sentier
ma la fronte avvilita e dimessa
hanno i servi già baldi e valenti
deh non far che ludibrio alle genti
siano Cristo, i tuoi figli guerrieri
o fresche aure. volanti sui vaghi
ruscelletti dei prati lombardi
fonti eterne , purissimi laghi
o vigneti indorati di sole
dono infausto crudele è la mente
che vi pinge sì veri agli sguardi
ed al labbro più dura e cocente
fa la sabbia di un arido suol. fa la sabbia - fa la sabbia di un arido suol d'un arido suol - d'un arido suol!




1844
Verdi, Ernani

si ridesti il leon di Castiglia
e d'Iberia ogni monte, ogni lito
eco formi al tremendo ruggito,
come un dì contro i Mori oppressor.
siamo tutti una sola famiglia
pugnerem colle braccia, co' petti
schiavi inulti più a lungo e negletti
non sarem finché vita abbia il cor.
morte colga o n'arrida vittoria,
pugnerem, ed il sangue de' spenti
nuovo ardir ai figliuoli viventi,
forze nuove al pugnare darà.
sorga alfine radiante di gloria,
sorga un giomo a brillare su noi...
sarà Iberia feconda d'eroi,
dal servaggio redenta sarà.




1844
Donizetti, Don Pasquale. Aria di Ernesto.



sogno soave a casto
de miei prim’anni addio
bramai richezze faste
solo por te amor mio
povero abbandonato
caduto in basso stato
pria che vederti misera
cara renunzio a te.




1847
Creation of the Royal Italian Opera, Convent Garden, Londra. With Semiramide.









1847


Verdi, MACBETTO.


D’orfanelli e di piangenti
chi lo sposo e chi la prole ----------- a
al venir del nuovo sole -------------- a
s’alza un grido e fere il ciel
a quel grido il ciel risponde
quasi voglia impietosito
propagar per l'infinito
patria oppressa, il tuo dolor.





1847
Written by Lyte in 1847 and set to music while he lay dying from tuberculosis; he survived only a further three weeks after its completion.
ABIDE WITH ME fast falls the eventide
the darkness deepens Lord with me abide
when other helpers fail and comforts flee
help of the helpless o abide with me.



Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.


Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word,
But as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, condescending, patient, free.
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me.


Come not in terrors, as the King of kings,
But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings;
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea.
Come, Friend of sinners, thus abide with me.





Thou on my head in early youth didst smile,
And though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee.
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me.


I need Thy presence every passing hour.
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.


I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.


Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.


1847
Cecil Alexander. Alexander wrote this hymn as she sat up one night with her seriously sick daughter. Many times, traveling to town to shop, she had passed a small grassy mound, just outside the old city wall of Derry, Ireland. It always made her think of Calvary, and it came to mind as she wrote this hymn.

THERE IS A GREEN HILL FAR AWAY
without a city wall
where the dear Lord was crucified
who died to save us all.
o dearly, dearly, has He loved,
and we must love Him, too,
and trust in His redeeming blood,
and try His works to do.

we may not know, we cannot tell,
what pains He had to bear;
put we believe it was for us
he hung and suffered there.
he died that we might be forgiv’n,
he died to make us good,
that we might go at last to Heav’n,
saved by His precious blood.
there was no other good enough
to pay the price of sin;
he only could unlock the gate
of heaven and let us in.


1847
Flotow. Martha, ossia il mercato a Richmond.

M'appari tutt' amor,
il mio sguardo l'incontrò;
bella si che il mio cor,
ansioso a lei volo;
mi ferì, m'invaghì
quell' angelica beltà,
sculta in cor dall'amor
cancellarsi non potrà:
il pensier di poter
palpitar con lei d'amor,
puo sopir il martir
che m'affana e strazia il cor.
M'appari tutt'amor,
il mio sguardo l'incontrò;
bella si che il mio cor
ansioso a lei volo;
Marta, Marta tu sparisti
e il mio cor col tuo n'ando!
Tu la pace mi rapisti,
di dolor io morirò



1847
In 1846, Stephen Foster moved to Cincinnati, Ohio, and became a bookkeeper with his brother's steamship company. While in Cincinnati, Foster wrote this song possibly for his men's social club. It was first performed by a local quintet at a concert in Andrews' Eagle Ice Cream Saloon in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania on September 11, 1847.

O SUSANNAH o don't you cry for me
for I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee.



I come from Alabama
with a banjo on my knee
I'm going to Louisiana
my true love for to see.



It rained all night
the day I left
the weather it was dry
the sun so hot I froze to death
Susannah, don't you cry.


I had a dream
the other night
when everything was still
I dreamed I saw Susannah dear
a-coming down the hill.


the buckwheat cake
was in her mouth
the tear was in her eye
says I I'm coming from the south
Susannah, don't you cry.



1848
Second season of the Royal Italian Opera, Covent Garden.





1848
As I was lumb'ring down de street,
Down de street, down de street,
A handsome gal I chanc'd to meet,
Oh! she was fair to view.


Buffalo gals, won't you come out tonight!
Can't you come out tonight!
Can't you come out tonight!
Buffalo gals, can't you come out tonight!
And dance by de light ob de moon.




I ax'd her would she hab some talk,
Hab some talk, hab some talk,
Her feet cover'd up de whole sidewalk,
As she stood close to me,


I ax'd her would she hab a dance,
Hab a dance, hab a dance,
I taught dat I might get a chance,
To shake a foot wid her,


I'd like to make dat gal my wife,
Gal my wife, gal my wife,
I'd be hap-py all my life,
If I had her by me.








1848
Wagner, L’anello del Nibelungo.








1849
Words: Cecil Frances Alexander, music: Henry Gauntlett. The words were written as a poem by Mrs Alexander in 1848.

ONCE IN ROYAL DAVID’S CITY
stood a lowly cattle shed
where a mother laid her Baby
in a manger for His bed
Mary was that mother mild
Jesus Christ, her little Child.



He came down to earth from heaven,
Who is God and Lord of all,
And His shelter was a stable,
And His cradle was a stall:
With the poor, and mean, and lowly,
Lived on earth our Saviour holy.
For He is our childhood's pattern;
Day by day, like us, He grew;
He was little, weak, and helpless,
Tears and smiles, like us He knew;
And He cares when we are sad,
And he shares when we are glad.
And our eyes at last shall see Him,
Through His own redeeming love;
For that Child so dear and gentle,
Is our Lord in heaven above:
And He leads His children on,
To the place where He is gone.


1849



è pronta e lesta
la varca mia
SANTA LUCIA




comme se frícceca
la luna chiena
lo mare ride
ll'aria è serena






stu viento frisco
fa risciatare:
chi vo' spassarse
jenno pe mmare
vuje che facite
’mmiezo a la via
Santa Lucia.


la tènna è posta
pe fa' 'na cena
e quanno stace
la panza chiena
non c'è la mínema
melanconia
Santa Lucia
sul mare luccica l’astro d’argento placida è l’onda prospero è il vento venite all’agile barchetta mia Santa Lucia con questo zeffiro così soave oh com’è bello star sulla nave su passegieri venite via, Santa Lucia, in fra le tende, bandir la cena in una sera così serena, chi non dimanda, chi non desia. Santa Lucia, mare sì placida vento sì caro scordar fa i triboli al marinaro e va gridando con allegria, Santa Lucia, o dolce Napoli, o suol beato, ove sorridere volle il creato, tu sei l'impero dell’armonia, Santa Lucia, or che tardate, bella è la sera, spira un’auretta fresca e leggiera.



On the sea glitters the silver star gentle the waves, favorable the winds, come into my nimble little boat, Saint Lucy, with this breeze, so gentle, how beautiful to be on the ship, with this breeze, so gentle, Come aboard passengers, come on, Saint Lucy! Inside the tents, putting aside supper on such a quiet evening, Who wouldn't demand, who wouldn't desire, Saint Lucy! Sea so calm, the wind so dear, forget what makes trouble for the sailor, And go shout with merriment, Saint Lucy! O sweet Naples, O blessed soil, Where to smile desired its creation, O sweet Naples, upon blessed soil, Where to smile desired its creation, You are the kingdom of harmony, Saint Lucy! Now to linger? The evening is beautiful.A little breeze blows fresh and light. Come quickly my little boat, Saint Lucy! Saint Lucy! Come quickly my little boat, Saint Lucy


1850
Stephen Foster "Camptown Races". Used by Puccini, in “La Fanciulla del West.”

the Camptown ladies sing this song
DOO DAH DOO DAH
the Camptown race track's five miles long
OH DOO DAH DAY

Goin' to run all night
Goin' to run all day
I bet my money on a bob-tailed nag
Somebody bet on the gray
I come down there with my hat caved in
Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I go back home with a pocket full of tin
Oh! de doo-dah day!
Goin' to run all night
Goin' to run all day
I bet my money on a bob-tailed nag
Somebody bet on the gray
The long tail filly and the big black hoss
Doo-dah! Doo-dah!
They fly the track and they both cut across
Oh! de doo-dah day!
Goin' to run all night
Goin' to run all day
I bet my money on a bob-tailed nag
Somebody bet on the gray
The blind hoss sticken in a big mud hole
Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Can’t touch bottom with a ten foot pole
Oh! de doo-dah day!
Goin' to run all night
Goin' to run all day
I bet my money on a bob-tailed nag
Somebody bet on the gray
Old muley cow come on to the track
Doo-dah! Doo-dah!
The bob-tail fling her over his back
Oh! de doo-dah day!
Goin' to run all night
Goin' to run all day
I bet my money on a bob-tailed nag
Somebody bet on the gray
Then fly along like a rail-road car
Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Runnin’ a race with a shootin’ star
Oh! de doo-dah day!
Goin' to run all night
Goin' to run all day
I bet my money on a bob-tailed nag
Somebody bet on the gray
See them flyin’ on a ten mile heat
Doo-dah! Doo-dah!
Round the race track, then repeat
Oh! doo-dah day!
Goin' to run all night
Goin' to run all day
I bet my money on a bob-tailed nag
Somebody bet on the gray
I win my money on the bob-tail nag
Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I keep my money in an old tow-bag
Oh! de doo-dah day!
Goin' to run all night
Goin' to run all day
I bet my money on a bob-tailed nag
Somebody bet on the gray


1850

Wagner, Il cavalier del cigno, ovvero Lohengrin: opera romantica in tre atti.
Resta a godere coppia fedele
Dove la gioie ti serba amor
Eterno ben nel ostel
Eterno de gran virtu
Splenda eternal la gioventu
Di nostro giorno
De goie adorno
Che virtu sembro .
1851
Stephen Foster

all de world am sad & dreary
eb’rywhere I roam
oh darkeys how my heart grows weary
far from DE OLD FOLKS AT HOME

WAY DOWN UPON THE SWANEE RIBBER
far far away
dere’s wha my heart is turning ebber
dere's wha de old folks stay
all up & down de whole creation
sadly I roam
still longing for de old plantation
& for DE OLD FOLKS AT HOME.


all round de little farm I wandered
when I was young,
Den many happy days I squandered,
Many de songs I sung.
When I was playing wid my brudder
Happy was I;
Oh, take me to my kind old mudder!
Dere let me live and die.
One little hut among de bushes,
One dat I love
Still sadly to my memory rushes,
No matter where I rove.
When will I see de bees a-humming
All round de comb?
When will I hear de banjo strumming,
Down in my good old home?



1851
Verdi, Il duca di Mantova, ovvero, Rigoletto!


la donna e mobile
qual piuma al vento
muta d’accento
e di pensiero
sempre un’amabile
leggiadro viso
in pianto in riso
e mezongnero.


Woman is changeable, false as the weather,
Woman's a feather borne by the breezes.
She loves variety, one day she'll kiss you,
Then she'll dismiss you, change as she pleases.

Plume in the summerwind
Waywardly playing
Ne'er one way swaying
Each whim obeying;


Thus heart of womankind
Ev'ry way bendeth,
Woe who dependeth
On joy she spendeth!


Refrain
Yes, heart of woman
Ev'ry way bendeth
Woe who dependeth
On joy she spends.


Sorrow and misery
Follow her smiling,
Fond hearts beguiling,
falsehood assoiling!


Yet all felicity
Is her bestowing,
No joy worth knowing
Is there but wooing.


Refrain
Yes, heart of woman
Ev'ry way bendeth
Woe who dependeth
On joy she spends.[1]


1851


Verdi, Rigoletto.
Scorrendo uniti remota via -------------- a/brev’ora dopo caduto il dì----------------- b/come previsto ben s’era in pria-------------a/rara beltade ci si scoprì ci si scopri ------b/era l’amante di Rigoletto ------------------c/che vista appena si dileguò ---------------d/già di rapirla s'aveva il progetto ----------c/quando il buffone ver noi spuntò ver noi spunto --- d/che di Ceprano noi la contessa -------------- e/rapir volessimo, stolto credé ------------------f/la scala quindi all'uopo messa ---------------- e/bendato, ei stesso ferma tenè ----------------- f/salimmo e rapidi la giovinetta ------------------ g/ci venne fatto quinci asportar ------------------h/quand'ei s'accorse della vendetta --------------g/restò scornato ad imprecar.

















1853
I just arrived in town, for to pass de time away,
And I settled all my bisness accordin',
But I found it so cold when I went up de street,
Dat I wish'd I was on de odder side ob Jordan.


So take off your coat, boys and roll up your sleeves,
For Jordan is a hard road to trabel;
So take off your coat, boys,
And roll up your sleeves, for Jordan is a hard road to trabble I believe.




I look to the East,I look to the West,
And I see ole Massa acomin',
With four bay horses hitch'd up in front,
to tote his money to de odder side ob Jordan.



David and Goliath both had a fight,
A cullud man come up behind 'em,
He hit Goliath on de head wid a bar of soft soap,
And it sounded to de odder side ob Jordan.



If I was de legislator ob dese United States,
I'd settle de fish question accordin',
I'd give de British all de bone and de Yankees al de meat
And stretch de boundary line to de odder side ob Jordan








1853

I ain't go study war no more
study war no more
ain't go study war no more
I ain't go study war no more
study war no more,
ain't go study oh war no more.
Gonna lay down my burden-----gonna lay down my sword and shield
down by the riverside down by the riverside down by the riverside
gonna lay down my burden----------gonna lay down my sword and shield
down by the riverside down by the riverside.
Gonna try on my long white robe ---- Gonna try on my starry crown ---- Gonna put on my golden shoes
Gonna talk with the Prince of Peace ---- Gonna shake hands around the world


1853
Verdi, Il trovatore.

squilli echeggi la tromba guerriera
chiami all'armi, alle pugne all'assalto:
fia domani la nostra bandiera
di quei merli piantata sull'alto
no giammai non sorrise vittoria
di più liete speranze finor
ivi l’util ci aspetta e la gloria
ivi opimi la preda e l'onor.





1853


Verdi, Il trovatore.


Di quella pira l'orrendo foco --------- a
tutte le fibre m’arse avvampò ----------b
empi, spegnetela o ch’io fra poco ------a
col sangue vostro la spegnerò -----------b
era già figlio prima d’amarti ---------------c
non può frenarmi il tuo martir ------------d
madre infelice corro a salvarti --------------c
o teco almeno corro a morir. -----------------d









1853
Verdi, La traviata, ossia la signora dale camelie.

libiamo libiamo ne'lieti calici
che la bellezza infiora
e la fuggevol fuggevol ora
s'inebrii a voluttà


libiam ne'dolci fremiti
che suscita l'amore
poiché quell'ochio al core
onnipotente va.


libiamo, amore, amor fra i calici
più caldi baci avrà




1853
Verdi. Traviata.



Noi siamo zingarelle --------------a
venute da lontano--------------------b
d’ognuno sulla mano-----------------b
leggiamo l’avvenir---------------------b
se consultiamm le stele ---------------a
null'avvi a noi d'oscuro------------------c
e i casi del futuro --------------------------c
possiamo altrui predir. -------------------b------------------------------------------------------












1854
Stephen S. Foster.







gentle slumbers o'er thee glide,
dreams of beauty round thee bide
while I linger by thy side
sweet ELLEN BAYNE.







Soft be thy slumbers, Rude cares depart,
Visions in numbers Cheer thy young heart.
Dream on while bright hours and fond hopes remain,
Blooming like smiling bowers for thee, Ellen Bayne.


Dream not in anguish, Dream not in fear;
Love shall not languish; Fond ones are near.
Sleeping or waking, In pleasure or pain,
Warm hearts will beat for thee, Sweet Ellen Bayne.


Scenes that ye vanished Smile on thee now,
Plea-sures once banished Play round thy brow,
Forms long departed Greet thee again,
Soothing thy dreaming heart, sweet Ellen Bayne
.


1855
The publisher John Boosey selected tactfully from Tennyson's lengthy monodrama Maud (1855) and sent the verses to Balfe, who composed this song for the celebrated tenor Sims Reeves. Those familiar with the poem will notice that, in order to create a refrain, Balfe repeats words from the first stanza of what is described in the context of Tennyson's larger poem as "A Night-Song of Love." Furthermore, he is prepared to add a few words of his own ("my own, my sweet") to provide a more decorous conclusion for the drawing room than do the closing lines of the original. Scott, Derek B. The Singing Bourgeois: Songs of the Victorian Drawing Room and Parlour. 2nd ed. Aldershot, Hampshire; Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2001.
Come into the garden, Maude.










1855
Gounod, “Fausto”


Salve, o casta e pia dimora ----------- a
di colei che m'innamora------------------a
salve ostel che a me la celi---------------b
il suo cor tu mi riveli----------------------b
quante dovizie in questa povertà---------c
in quest’asìl quanta felicità----------------c
ivi leggiadra e bella------------d
ella aggirarsi suol---------------e
ivi gentile e snella---------------d
ella percorre il suol-------------e
qui la baciava il sole -----------f
e le dorava il crine --------------g
qui vi rivolger suole -------------f
le vaghe luci alfine ----------------g
quell’astro dell’amor ------------h
che m' accendeva il cor. ----------h








1855
Converse--Scriven

WHAT A FRIEND WE HAVE IN JESUS
all our sins & griefs to bear
what a privilege to carry
ev’rything to God in prayer
oh what peace we often forfeit
oh what needless pain we bear
all because we do not carry
ev’rything to God in prayer.


Great War parody:
when this lousy war is over
no more soldiering for me
when I get my civvy clothes on
oh how happy I shall be
no more church parades on Sunday
no more putting in for leave
I shall kiss the sergeant-major
how I'll miss him how he'll grieve


1857
I hear dat bell a ringin',
I see de Captain stand,
Boat done blowed her whistle,
I know she's gwine to land,
I hear de mate a callin'
"Go git out de plank,
Rush out wid de head line,
And tie her to de bank."


Roll out! heave dat cotton,
Roll out! heave dat cotton,
Roll out! heave dat cotton,
Ain't got long to stay.




It's early in de mornin',
Before we see de sun,
"Roll aboard dat cotton,
An' git back in a run,"
De Captain's in a hurry,
I know what he means,
Wants to beat de Sherlock,
Down to New Orleans.



I hear dat mate a shoutin',
An see him on de shore,
Hurry boys! be lively,
Ain't but fifty more;
We ain't got time to tarry,
Here at dis cotton pile,
We gwine to git another,
Below here forty mile.



We done took on de cotton,
Shove out from de shore,
Sailing down de river,
We gwine to land for more;
When you hear de whistle,
An' de big bell ring,
We gwine to land for cotton,
Roll out, boys, an' sing.





1834
I hear dat bell a ringin',
I see de Captain stand,
Boat done blowed her whistle,
I know she's gwine to land,
I hear de mate a callin'
"Go git out de plank,
Rush out wid de head line,
And tie her to de bank."


Roll out! heave dat cotton,
Roll out! heave dat cotton,
Roll out! heave dat cotton,
Ain't got long to stay.




It's early in de mornin',
Before we see de sun,
"Roll aboard dat cotton,
An' git back in a run,"
De Captain's in a hurry,
I know what he means,
Wants to beat de Sherlock,
Down to New Orleans.



I hear dat mate a shoutin',
An see him on de shore,
Hurry boys! be lively,
Ain't but fifty more;
We ain't got time to tarry,
Here at dis cotton pile,
We gwine to git another,
Below here forty mile.



We done took on de cotton,
Shove out from de shore,
Sailing down de river,
We gwine to land for more;
When you hear de whistle,
An' de big bell ring,
We gwine to land for cotton,
Roll out, boys, an' sing.







1858
Written by Geo. Linley, music by Foley Hall. Introduced in Pinero, “Trelawney of the Wells”.

EVER OF THEE I'm fondly dreaming,
thy gentle voice my spirit can cheer;
thou wert the star that mildly beaming,
shone o'er my path when all was dark & drear.
still in my heart thy form I cherish,
ev'ry kind thought like a bird flies to thee;
ah, never till life and mem'ry perish,
can I forget how dear thou art to me;


Ever of thee when sad and lonely,
Wand'ring afar my soul joy'd to dwell;
Ah! then I felt I lov'd thee only;
All seem'd to fade before affection's spell.
Years have not chill'd the love I cherish;
True as the stars, hath my heart been to thee;
Ah! never till life and mem'ry perish,
Can I forget how dear thou art to me


morn, noon & night, were-e’er I may be
fondly I’m dreaming ever of thee
fondly I’m dreaming ever of thee.
1859
Verdi, Ballo in maschera
La rivedrà nell'estasi
Raggiante di pallore . . .
E qui sonar d'amore
La sua parola udrà.
O dolce notte, scendere
Tu puoi gemmata a festa:
Ma la mia stella è questa
Che il ciel non ha!)








1859
Verdi Ballo in maschera.


Di' tu se fedeleil flutto m'aspetta,se molle di piantola donna dilettadicendomi addiodicendomi addiotradì l'amor mio,tradì l'amor mio.
Con lacere velea l'alma in tempesta,i solchi so frangerdell'onda funesta,l'averno ed il cieloirati sfidar,l'averno ed il cieloirati sfidar.
Sollecita esplora,Divina gli eventi:non possono i fulmin,la rabbia de'venti,la morte, l'amoresviarmi dal mar.
La morte, l'amoresviarmi dal mar.La morte, l'amoresviarmi dal mar.
Non posson i fulmin,la rabbia de' venti,la mort, l'amorsviarlo dal mar.
Sull'agile prora[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/di-tu-se-fedele-lyrics-andrea-bocelli.html ]che m'agita in grembo,se scosso mi sveglioai fischi del nembo,ripeto fra'tuoni,ripeto fra'tuonile dolci canzoni,le dolci canzoni -
Le dolci canzonidel tetto natio,che i baci ricordandell'ultimo addio,a tutte raccendonle forze del cor,a tutte raccendonle forze del cor.
Su, dunque, risuoniLa tua profezia,Di' ciò che può sorgerdal fato qual sia,nell'anime nostrenon entra terror.
Non entra terror!Nell'anime nostrenon entra terror.Nell'anime nostrenon entra terror.
Nell'anime nostrenon entra terror.
Nell'anime nostre
1859
On Tombigbee river so bright I was born,
In a hut made ob husks ob de tall yaller corn,
And dar I fust met wid my Jula so true,
An' I row'd her about In my Gum Tree Canoe.


Singing row away, row,
O'er de waters so blue,
Like a feather we'll float, in my Gum Tree Canoe.



2.
All de day in de field de soft cotton I hoe,
I tink of my Jula an sing as I go,
Oh I catch her a bird, wid a wing ob true blue,
An' at night sail her round in my Gum Tree Canoe.


3.
Wid my hands on de banjo and toe on de oar,
I sing to de sound ob de river's soft roar;
While de stars dey look down at my Jula so true,
An' dance in her eye in my Gum Tree Canoe.


4.
One night de stream bore us so far away,
Dat we couldn't cum back, so we thought we jis stay;
Oh we spied a tall ship wid a flag ob true blue,
An it took us in tow wid my Gum Tree Canoe.








1859
Barnes – set by R. Vaughan Williams

'ithin the woodlands, flow'ry gleäded
by the woak tree's mossy moot
the sheenèn grass-bleädes, timber-sheäded
now do quiver under voot
an' birds do whissle auver head
an' water's bubblèn in its bed
an' there vor me the apple tree
do leän down low in LINDEN LEA.



When leaves that leätely wer a-springèn
Now do feäde 'ithin the copse,
An' painted birds do hush ther zingèn
Up upon the timber's tops;
An' brown-leav'd fruit's a-turnèn red,
In cloudless zunsheen, auver head,
Wi' fruit vor me, the apple tree
Do leän down low in Linden Lea.


Let other vo'k meäke money vaster
In the aïr o' dark-room'd towns,
I don't dread a peevish meäster;
Though noo man do heed my frowns,
I be free to goo abrode,
Or teäke ageän my hwomeward road
To where, vor me, the apple tree
Do leän down low in Linden Lea.


1859
John Freeman Young publishes the English translation of Silent Night that is most frequently sung today.
SILENT NIGHT holy night
all is calm all is bright,
round yon virgin mother & child
holy infant so tender & mild
sleep in heavenly peace



Silent night! Holy night!
Shepherds quake at the sight!3
Glories stream from Heaven afar,
Heavenly Hosts sing Alleluia!
Christ, the Saviour, is born!
Christ, the Saviour, is born!
Silent night! Holy night!
Son of God, love’s pure light
Radiant beams from Thy Holy Face
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord, at Thy Birth!
Jesus, Lord, at Thy Birth!
Silent Night, Holy Night
Here at last, healing light
From the heavenly kingdom sent,
Abundant grace for our intent.
Jesus, salvation for all.
Jesus, salvation for all.
Silent Night! Holy Night"
Sleeps the world in peace tonight.
God sends his Son to earth below
A Child from whom all blessings flow
Jesus, embraces mankind.
Jesus, embraces mankind.
Silent Night, Holy Night
Mindful of mankind's plight
The Lord in Heav'n on high decreed
From earthly woes we would be freed
Jesus, God's promise for peace.
Jesus, God's promise for peace.





1861
w. anon m. William Steffe
glory glory hallelujah
glory glory hallelujah
his soul goes marching on.



John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave
But his soul goes marching on.
He's gone to be a soldier in the Army of the Lord
His soul goes marching on.
John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back
His soul goes marching on.
John Brown died that the slaves might be free
His soul goes marching on.
the stars above in Heaven now are looking kindly down
His soul goes marching on.

GREAT WAR PARODY: they were only playing leapfrog
they were only playing leapfrog they were only playing leapfrog
when one staff officer jumped right over another staff officer's back.
One staff officer jumped right over
another staff officer's back
& another staff officer jumped right over that
other staff officer's back
a third staff officer jumped right over two other staff officers' backs
& a fourth staff officer jumped right over all the other staff officers' backs.




1862
Verdi. “LA FORZA DEL DESTINO”. Don Alvaro, tenore.


O tu che in seno agl’angeli
eternamente pura ---------------- a
saliste bella incolume
della mortal iattura -----------------a
o tu che in seno agl’angeli
saliste bella e pura
non iscordar di volger
lo sguardo a me tapino
che senza nome ed esule
in odio del destino
che senza nome ed esule
in odio del destino
chiedo anelando ah misero
chiedo anelando ah misero
la morte d’incontrar
Leonora, soccorrimi
pieta del mio penar.







1862
Foster.



BEAUTIFUL DREAMER wake unto me
starlight & dewdrops are waiting for thee
sounds of the rude world heard in the day
lulled by the moonlight have all passed away
beautiful dreamer wake unto me
beautiful dreamer queen of my song
list while I woo thee with soft melody
gone are the cares of life's busy throng
beautiful dreamer awake unto me
beautiful dreamer awake unto me
beautiful dreamer, out on the sea
mermaids are chaunting the wild Lorelei
over the streamlet vapors are borne
waiting to fade at the bright coming morn
beautiful dreamer, awake unto me
beautiful dreamer, beam of my heart
e'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea
then will the clouds of sorrow depart
beautiful dreamer awake unto me
beautiful dreamer, awake unto me.



1863
Oh, white folks, listen, will you now,
This darkie's gwine to sing;
I've hitupon a subject now I think will be the thing.
I never like to mix at all With any one's affairs,
But my opinion am just now 'Bout folks that put on airs.


No use talking, No use talking,
it's go now ev'rywhere;
To do as folks of fashion do,
You've got to put on airs.



2.
De politician, first of all,
On 'lection day will stand,
And every man dat passes by,
He'll shake him by de hand.
But when he gets a good fat job,
For dat am all he cares,
He thinks himself some pumkins den;
Oh, don't he put on airs? (Chorus)


3.
When a gal gets about sixteen,
She 'gins to think she's some;
A fop dat sports a big moustache,
She kinder likes to come,
Two hours before de looking glass,
To meet him she prepares;
And when she gets her fixin's on,
Oh, don't she put on airs? (Chorus)
4.
A boy, too, when he's 'bout half grown,
Although he's "nary red."
Has lots of hair around his mouth,
But none upon his head.
He patronizes tailor shops,
Gets trust for all he wears;
And when he goes amongst de gals,
Oh, don't he put on airs. (Chorus)
5.
Dar's de great Atlantic cable,
Some time ago 'twas laid;
Both Uncle Sam and Johnny Bull
Den thought dare fortunes made.
Somehow or other, I don't know,
But folks dat hold de shares
Begin to kinder think de thing
Am puttin' on some airs. (Chorus)
6.
'Tis true we Yankees go ahead
In all we undertake;
There's Tenbroeck and great Rarey, too,
Can British horses break.
Dar's Murphy next, a chess-man he
His laurels proudly wears.
Old Johhny Bull can't come to tea,
And needn't put on airs.









1864
George F. Root It was composed by Dr. Root—both words and music—quite early in the American Civil war. Its purpose was to to cheer the boys who had been captured by the enemy and placed in prison pens.

TRAMP TRAMP TRAMP THE BOYS ARE MARCHING
cheer up comrades they will come,
& beneath the starry flag
we shall breathe the air again,
of the freeland in our own beloved home.



In the prison cell I sit,
Thinking Mother dear, of you,
And our bright and happy home so far away,
And the tears they fill my eyes
Spite of all that I can do,
Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.





1865
I've just arrived in town today,
And here I is before you,
To sing about my name and occupation;
I come from old Virginny State,
De best in all de nation,
O, ho! O, ho! to Nicodemus Johnson.


2.
My master was a union man,
He did not like secession,
And so he had to leave de old plantation;
I thought to stay behind him there,
'Twould be an agravation,
O, ho! O, ho! to Nicodemus Johnson.


3.
I wish dis war would only end,
And peace come frew de nation,
I'd go right back to Dixie land and stay dar;
For I isn't any contraband,
I love de old plantation,
O, ho! O, ho! That's Nicodemus Johnson.






1865
Sullivan—Baring Gould.

ONWARD CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS
marching as to war
with the cross of Jesus
going on before.
Christ the royal master
leads against the foe
forward into battle
see his banners go.



at the sign of triumph Satan's host doth flee;
on then, Christian soldiers, on to victory!
Hell's foundations quiver at the shout of praise;
brothers, lift your voices, loud your anthems raise.


Like a mighty army moves the church of God;
brothers, we are treading where the saints have trod.
We are not divided, all one body we,
one in hope and doctrine, one in charity.

Crowns & thrones may perish, kingdoms rise and wane,
but the church of Jesus constant will remain.
Gates of hell can never gainst that church prevail;
we have Christ's own promise, and that cannot fail.

Onward then, ye people, join our happy throng,
blend with ours your voices in the triumph song.
Glory, laud, and honor unto Christ the King,
this through countless ages men and angels sing


Great War parody:
forward Joe Soap's army marching without fear
with our old commander safely in the rear
he boasts & skites from morn till night & thinks he's very brave
but the men who really did the job are dead & in their grave
1867
Johann Strauss II "Blue Danube Waltz"








1867




O he floats through the air with the greatest of ease
this daring young man on the flying trapeze;
his actions are graceful, all girls he does please,
my love he has purloined away.
O SHE floats through the air with the greatest of ease,
you'd think her a man on the flying trapeze,
she does all the work while he takes his ease,
and that's what's become of my love.

Once I was happy, but now I'm forlorn,
Like an old coat that is tattered and torn;
Left in this wide world o weep and to mourn,
Betrayed by a maid in her teens.


Now this girl that I loved, she was handsome,
And I tried all I knew, her to please,
But I never could please her one quarter so well
As the man on the flying trapeze.


He'd play with a miss like a cat with a mouse,
His eyes would undress every girl in the house.
Perhaps he is better described as a louse,
But the people they came just the same.


Oh, he'd smile from his perch on the people below
And one day he smiled on my love.
She blew him a kiss and she hollered, "Bravo!"
As he hung by his nose up above.


Oh, I wept and I whimpered, I simpered for weeks,
While she spent her time with the circus's freaks.
The tears were like hailstones that rolled down my cheeks,
Alas, and alack, and alacka!


I went to this fellow, the blackguard, and said,
"I'll see that you get your desserts!"
He put up his thumb to his nose with a sneer,
He sneered once again, and said, "Nertz!"



One night to his tent he invited her in,
He filled her with compliments, kisses, and gin
And started her out on the road to ruin,
Since then l have known no repose.


But e'en now l loved her, I said, "Take my name!
I'll gladly forgive and forget;"
She rustled her bustle without any shame,
Saying, "Well, maybe later, not yet."


One night as usual I went to her home,
And found there her father and mother alone,
I asked for my love and it soon was made known,
To my horror, that she'd run away.


Without any trousseau she'd fled in the night
With him with the greatest of ease,
From two stories high he'd lowered her down
To the ground on his flying trapeze.


Some months after that I went into a hall,
And to my surprise, I found there on the wall,
A bill in red letters which did my heart gall,
That she was appearing with him.


Oh, he'd taught her gymnastics, and dressed her in tights,
To help him to live at his ease,
He'd made her take on a masculine name,
And now she goes on the trapeze.











1868
Good evening white folks, lend your ears,
And to my song just listen,
I'm here tonight to tell my little story,
And what I have to lucidate
Will make your eyeballs glisten,
So gaze upon Adolphus Morning glory.


2.
There is a charming colored gal,
A blushing sylph of sweetness,
That's thrown a magic spell of love before me,
She's young and lovely as a rose,
A bunch of maiden neatness,
Just suited to Adolphus Morning glory.


3.
Next week I'm going to married be To charming Marianna,
And then my name will live in fame and story,
For I'm go'ng to run for congressman Way down in Alabama,
That's where you'll find Adolphus Morning glory.






1868


Wagner. Walther e i maestri cantori di Norimberga (La Scala,26/XII/1889). Aria di Wagner: "Morgenlich leuchtend im rosigen Schein,/von Blüt und Duft/geschwellt die Luft,/voll aller Wonnen,/nie ersonnen,/ein Garten lud mich ein, -/dort unter einem Wunderbaum,/von Früchten reich behangen,/zu schaun in sel'gem Liebestraum,/was höchstem Lustverlangen./Erfüllung kühn verhiess,/das schönste Weib:/Eva im Paradies."/"Abendlich dämmernd umschloss mich die Nacht;/auf steilem Pfad/war ich genaht/zu einer Quelle/reiner Welle,/die lockend mir gelacht:/dort unter einem Lorbeerbaum,/von Sternen hell durchschienen,/ich schaut im wachen Dichtertraum,/von heilig holden Mienen,/mich netzend mit dem edlen Nass,/das hehrste Weib,/die Muse des Parnass!"/"Huldreichster Tag,/dem ich aus Dichters Traum erwacht!/Das ich erträumt, das Paradies,/in himmlisch neu verklärter Pracht/hell vor mir lag,/dahin lachend nun der Quell den Pfad mir wies;/die, dort geboren,/den Ruhm erkoren,/der Erde lieblichstes Bild,/als Muse mir geweiht,/so heilig ernst als mild,/ward kühn von mir gefreit,/am lichten Tag der Sonnen,/durch Sanges Sieg gewonnen/Parnass und Paradies!"













1869














1869










1869
Wagner, I maestri cantori di Norimberga: opera in tre atti.











1869
Johseph Winner.

ha ha ha
you & me
little brown jug
don't I love thee

Me and my wife live all alone
In a little log hut we call our own;
She loves gin and I love rum,
And don't we have a lot of fun!


When I go toiling on the farm
I take the little jug under my arm;
Place it under a shady tree,
Little brown jug, 'tis you and me.







’Tis you that makes me friends and foes,
’Tis you that makes me wear old clothes;
But, seeing you're so near my nose,
Tip her up and down she goes.


If all the folks in Adam's race
Were gathered together in one place,
I'd let them go without a tear
Before I'd part from you, my dear.


If I'd a cow that gave such milk,
I'd dress her in the finest silk;
Feed her up on oats and hay,
And milk her twenty times a day.


I bought a cow from Farmer Jones,
And she was nothing but skin and bones;
I fed her up as fine as silk,
She jumped the fence and strained her milk.


And when I die don't bury me at all,
Just pickle my bones in alcohol;
Put a bottle o' booze at my head and feet
And then I know that I will keep.


The rose is red, my nose is too,
The violet's blue and so are you;
And yet, I guess, before I stop,
We'd better take another drop.





1870


Wagner. La Valkiria. Marcia.












1871
Verdi. “AIDA”. Radames, tenore.


Celeste Aïda, forma divina ------------ a
mistico serto di luce e fior --------------b
del mio pensiero tu sei regina ----------a
tu di mia vita sei lo splendor ------------b
il tuo bel cielo vorrei ridarti --------------c
le dolci brezze del patrio suol -----------d
un regal serto sul crin posarti ------------c
ergerti un trono vicino al sol. ------------d








1871
Verdi. AIDA


s’intrecci il loto al lauro ----------- a
sul crin dei vincitori ----------------b
nembo gentil di fiori ---------------b
stenda sull’armi un vello -----------c
danziam fanciulle egizie ------------d
le mistiche carole ----------------e
come d’intorno al sole -----------e
danzano gli astri in ciel. -----------------------------------------------------------------------‘
















1870
The origin of the song is unknown, though it is often suggested that the subject of the song may be Charles Edward Stuart ('Bonnie Prince Charlie') published sheet music for "Bring Back My Bonnie To Me". Theodore Raph in American song treasury: 100 favorites, writes that people were requesting the song at sheet music stores in the 1870s.

bring back bring back
bring back my bonnie to me to me.
my Bonnie lies over the ocean
my Bonnie lies over the sea
my Bonnie lies over the ocean
o bring back my Bonnie to me



Last night as I lay on my pillow
last night as I lay on my bed
last night as I lay on my pillow
I dreamt that my bonnie was dead


O blow the winds o'er the ocean
and blow the winds o'er the sea
O blow the winds o'er the ocean
and bring back my Bonnie to me


The winds have blown over the ocean
the winds have blown over the sea
the winds have blown over the ocean
and brought back my Bonnie to me.


1845
The Jenny Lind Mania; Or, the Swedish nightingale arrived at last.
for she turns each heart & turns each head
of those who hear her sing
& she is turning all her notes to gold
is famous Jenny Lind.

OH ! is there not a pretty fuss
In London all around,
About the Swedish nightingale,
The talk of all the town,
Each square and street as through you
pass,
Aloud with praises ring,
About this pretty singing bird,
The famous Jenny Lind.
All singers she outshines,
None can with her come nigh,
And some declare that she must be
An angel from the sky ;
She sings so sweet, and sings so loud,
As I've heard people say,
You might hear her from the Haymarket
As far as Botany Bay.
As to a liquor shop you go
To drink your wine or gin,
The landlord begs that you will taste
His famous Jenny Lind ;
And I heard a dustman t'other day,
As he his bell did ring,
Instead of bawling out, "dust O !"
Call'd out for Jenny Lind.
P — A — and our loving Queen,
Had such a precious row
Because he at the Opera House
To Jenny Lind did bow ;
She beat him round and round the house.
All with the rolling pin,
Till he said, my dear, I will not look,
Or wink at Jenny Lind.
Now every thing is Jenny Lind
That comes out now each day,
There is Jenny Lind shawls and bonnets
too,
For those who cash can pay ;
Jenny Lind's coats and waistcoats,
Shirts, whiskers too, and stocks,
Jenny Lind's gowns and petticoats,
And bustles such a lot
If to a butcher's shop you go
To buy a joint of meat,
It's buy, oh ! buy my Jenny Lind,
She's tender and she's sweet ;
And the greasy little butcher's boys,
Sing with a knowing grin,
Eightpence a pound, this splendid leg,
It is fit for Jenny Lind.
The gents smoke nought but Jenny Lind
For so they name cigars,
And shopboys they to come out slap,
Smoke Jenny Lind by halves ;
And ladies who a shoping go,
To the mercer's will drop in,
And ask for a yard and a half of silk,
Cut off of Jenny Lind.
Now to conclude and end my song,
For I think it is almost time,
Success to the little singing bird,
The subject of my rhymes ;
I have seen some wonders in my time,
And singing birds some scores,
I never knew a singing bird,
ear petticoats before.





1845


1872
Hess. Sung by George Leybourne, one of music hall's best lion comiques. He often sported whiskers in the style known as 'Piccadilly Weepers'.


AFTER THE OPERA’S OVER
attending the ladies is done
we gems of the very first water
commence then our frolic & fun




after the Opera's over
gas tries to outshine the stars
when half the world sleeps contented
we’ll champagne smoke fine cigars.
for life without pleasure is cold
& I should not live very long
but how we survive at the weekend
I’m delighted to tell in my song.
I keep my own box at the opera
I’ve racers and hunters as well
estates & lands in the country
so much money I cannot tell
then why should I let myself down
& neither spend money or lend
for money well spent bring joys
yes money was made to spend
after the opera’s over
Belgravia could tell many tales
but as I am one of its people
it would not be fair to drive nails
suffice me to say that at night
we dance we sing & we play
we upper ten with hearts so light
thus merrily wile time away
after your business take pleasure
but business by Jove I’ve none
a fellow to find out his troubles
why hang it I don’t see the fun
to you that money to spend
just take a lesson by me
live in the squares of Belgravia
& the pleasures of life you’ll see









1872


dear lord & father of mankind
forgive our foolish ways
reclothe us in our rightful mind
in purer lives thy service find,
in deeper reverence praise.



In simple trust like theirs who heard
Beside the Syrian sea
The gracious calling of the Lord,
Let us, like them, without a word
Rise up and follow Thee.


O Sabbath rest by Galilee!
O calm of hills above,
Where Jesus knelt to share with Thee
The silence of eternity
Interpreted by love.


With that deep hush subduing all
Our words and works that drown
The tender whisper of Thy call,
As noiseless let Thy blessing fall
As fell Thy manna down.


Drop Thy still dews of quietness,
Till all our strivings cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of Thy peace.


Breathe through the heats of our desire
Thy coolness and Thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,
O still, small voice of calm.



1873
Daniel Kelly & Brewster M. Higley



O give me a home where the buffalo roam
where the deer & the antelope play
where seldom is heard a discouraging word
& the skies are not cloudy all day.
home HOME ON THE RANGE
where the deer & the antelope play
where seldom is heard a discouraging word
& the skies are not cloudy all day






How often at night
where the heavens are bright
with the light of the glittering stars
have I stood there amazed & asked as I gazed
if their glory exceeds that of ours
then give me a land where the bright diamond sand
flows leisurely down to the stream
hwere the graceful white swan goes gliding along
like a maid in a heavenly dream
o I would not exchange my old HOME ON THE RANGE
where the deer & the antelop play
where the seldom is heard a discouraging word
& the skies are not cloudy all da


1874
My old misses promised me,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye,
When she died she's set me free,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye,
She did live till she got bald,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye,
And she never died at all,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye.


Den Oh, dat watermelon,
Lamb of goodness, you must die.
I'm gwine to join de contraband children,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye.


2.

Shoofly cut a pigun wing,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye,
Rattle snake rolled in a possum's skin,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye,
Cow path crooked gwine frouh de wood,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye,
Misses ses I shant, I ses I should,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye.


3.
Sister Sue, and old aunt Sal,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye,
Both lived down in Shinbone al,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye,
Name of de house, name on de door,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye,
Big green spot on de Grocery store,
Gwine to git a home bye and bye.






1874
Johann Strauss. “IL PIPISTRELLO”


ah happy day of divine delight -----------------a
love & champagne banish care from sight----a
could we live on as we do tonight------------------a
life would be forever gay and bright. -----------a











1875
w. Frederic Edward Weatherly, m. Stephen Adams (pseudonym of Michael Maybrick)

the sailor's wife the sailor's star shall be
yeo ho we go across the sea
the sailor's wife the sailor's star shall be
the sailor's wife his star shall be

of all the wives as e'er you know
Yeo ho lads ho Yeo ho! Yeo ho!
There's none like NANCY LEE I trow
Yeo ho Yeo ho Yeo ho
See there she stands & waves her hands
Upon the quay, & every day
When I'm away she'll watch for me,
& whisper low when tempests blow,
For Jack at sea, Yeo ho! lads, ho! Yeo ho!


The bosun pipes the watch below,
Yeo ho! lads, ho! Yeo ho! Yeo ho!
Then here's a health afore we go,
Yeo ho! Yeo ho! Yeo ho!
A long, long life to my sweet wife,
And mates at sea, and keep our bones
From Davy Jones, where-e'er we be,
And may you meet a mate as sweet
As NANCY LEE yeo ho lads ho Yeo ho


1875


Bizet. CARMEN


È l’amore uno strano augello ----------------a
nessun lo può domesticar------------------------b
sempre mostrai a noi rubello-------------------a
se gli convien di ricusar --------------------------b
vano è il prego ed il rigore -------------------c
l’un parla ben e l’altro no -------------------d
e a quest’altro io do il mio core ---------------c
senza parlar m’innamorò --------------------d


l’amor, l’amor, l’amor, l’amor.



Lo sappia il mio bel damo /per lui giammai No, legge mai non v’E se tu non m’ami ebben io t’amo/se t’amo dei tremar /per te se tu non m’ami ebben /se tu m’ami eppur io t’amo /ma se mai t’amo se mai t’amo dei tremar /per te, se tu non m’ami ebben io t’amo /e dei tremar per te se tu non m’ami eppur /io t’amo dei tremar per te/credi d’averlo di giA in tua mano /ch’ei spiega l’ali e via sen’ van/Guardi guardi e aspetti invano /nessun puO dir se tornerA/d’intorno a te volando ratto /se n’vien se n’ve poi torna ancor /gemirlo credi e nulla hai fatto /nol curi? Ei vien, E tal l’amor. L’amor, l’amor, l’amor, l’amor. /Lo sappia il meio ben damo per lui giammai no legge mai non v’e se tu non m’ami ebben io t’amo se t’amo dei tremar per te. Se tu non m’ami ebben se tu non m’ami eppur io t’amo ma se mai t’amo se mai t’amo dei tremar per te, se tu non m’ami ebben io t’amo e dei tremar per te, se tu non m’ami epppur io t’amo de tremar per te.







1875
Bizet, “Carmen”
Il fior che avevi a me gitato.













1875
Gilbert/Sullivan, Trial by Jury.

But this he is willing to say
if it will appease her sorrow
He’ll marry this lady today
and marry the other tomorrow.















1878
Gilbert e Sullivan. PINAFORE, ovvero la fanciulla chi amava un marionario: opera nautica in due atti. (“An Entirely Original Nautical Comic Opera, in Two Acts, entitled H. M. S. PINAFORE, or, The Lass that Loved a Sailor”). Teatro dell’Opera Comica, Londra.





A maiden fair to see --------- a
the pearl of minstrelsee ------ a
a bud of blushing beauty ------b
for whom proud nobles sigh --- c
and with each other vie --------c
to do her menial's duty ----------b
to do her menial's duty.
a suitor, lowly born -------------a
with hopeless passion torn -----a
and poor, beyond denying -------b
has dared for her to pine ----------c
at whose exalted shrine -----------c
a world of wealth is sighing --------b
a world of wealth is sighing.
unlearned he in aught -----------a
save that which love has taught ----a
for love had been his tutor ----------b
oh, pity, pity me —c
our captain's daughter she --- c
and I that lowly suitor. ------------b
oh, pity, pity me —
our captain's daughter she,
and I that lowly suitor.
And he, and/he that lowly suitor.










1878
Sullivan. PINAFORE.




Proud lady, have your way ----------- a/unfeeling beauty --------------------------b/You speak and I obey -------------------a
It is my duty ------------------------------b/I am the lowliest tar ----------------c/That sails the water ----------------d/and you, proud maiden, are -------c
my captain's daughter ------------- d/Proud lady, have your way --------a/You speak, and I obey ------------a/


My heart, with anguish torn -------------- a
Bows down before her --------------------b
She laughs my love to scorn ------------a
Yet I adore her -----------------------------b
My heart, with anguish torn
Bows down before her
she laughs my love to scorn
Yet I adore her!--------------------------------------------------------------------------------






1878
SULLIVAN. PINAFORE.




I, humble, poor, and lowly born -----------a/the meanest in the port division -----------b/the butt of epauletted scorn ----------------a/the mark of quarter-deck derision ---------b/have dared to raise my wormy eyes ----------- c/above the dust to which you'd mould me -----d/in manhood's glorious pride to rise -------------c/I am an Englishman, behold me ----------------d/He is an Englishman!/He is an Englishman! --------------------------------------------------------------------------For he himself has said it --------------a/And it's greatly to his credit -----------a/That he is an Englishman! That he is an Englishman!/for he might have been a Roosian ----------a/a French, or Turk, or Proosian -------------a/or perhaps Italian or perhaps Italian/but in spite of all temptations /to belong to other nations, /he remains an Englishman./He remains an Englishman! CORO: For in spite of all temptations /To belong to other nations,/He remains an Englishman! /He remains an Englishman.







1878

Gilbert/Sullivan, “H. M. S. Pinafore, or the lass that loved a sailor”
For he himself has said it
and it’s greatly to his credit
That he is an Englishman –
for he might have been a Russian
A French or turk or proosian
or perhaps Italian
But in spite of all temptations
to belong to other nations
He remains an Englishman.









1877
"Chopsticks" m. Arthur de Lulli














1877
w.m. G. W. Hunt

we're DEAR OLD PALS -- jolly old pals
clinging together
in all sorts of weather
DEAR OLD PALS -- jolly old pals
give me the friendship of DEAR OLD PALS.
I like my share of pleasure,
And I'll have it where I can,
I love a loving woman, and
Respect an honest man;
I like to find true friendship in
The life that's rolling by,
And such is always found between,
My old Pal Tom and I.




1877



Gilbert e Sullivan. LO STRAGONE. (“An Entirely New and Original Modern Comic Opera, in Two Acts, entitled THE SORCERER”). Teatro dell’Opera Comica. Londra. Alessi, tenore.




Love feeds on many kinds of food, I know --------a
some love for rank, and some for duty --------------b/some give their hearts away for empty show ----------a/and others love for youth and beauty -----------------b/to love for money all the world is prone ----------- c/some love themselves, and live all lonely -----------d/give me the love that loves for love alone ------------c/I love that love, I love it only -------------------d/I love that love, I love it only, /give me the love that loves for love alone –/I love that love, I love it only










1877
Sullivan. First sung by Antoinette Sterling


Seated one day at the organ
I was weary and ill at ease
& my fingers wandered idly
over the noisy keys
I know not what I was playing
or what I was dreaming then
but I struck one chord of music,
like the sound of a great amen.
It flooded the crimson twilight
like the close of an angel's psalm
and it lay on my fevered spirit
with a touch of infinite calm
it quieted pain & sorrow
like love overcoming strife
it seemed the harmonious echo
from our discordant life.
It linked all perplexèd meanings
into one perfect peace,
& trembled away into silence
as if it were loth to cease
I have sought but I seek it vainly
that one lost chord divine
which came from the soul of the organ,
& entered into mine.
it may be that death's bright angel
will speak in that chord again
it may be that only in heav'n
I shall hear that grand amen.






1879
Gilbert e Sullivan. I PIRATI DI CAPO SANTO, ossia il schiavo del devere: opera melodrammatica” (“The New and Original Melo-Dramatic Opera, in Two Acts, entitled THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE, or, The Slave of Duty”). Teatro. Fifth Avenue Theatre, New York City. Federico, tenore.


Oh, is there not one maiden breast -----------a/which does not feel the moral beauty -----------b/of making worldly interest --------------------------a/subordinate to sense of duty ------------------------b/who would not give up willingly ---------c/all matrimonial ambition -------------d/to rescue such a one as I/from his unfortunate position -------d/from his position to rescue such a one as I from his unfortunate position? CORO: ---- Alas, there’s not one maiden breast/Which seems to feel the moral beauty/Of making worldly interest/Subordinate to sense of duty! 2. Oh, is there not one maiden here -------- a/Whose homely face and bad complexion ---- b/Have caused all hope to disappear ---------- a/Of ever winning man’s affection ---------------b/To such an one, if such there be -----------c/I swear by Heaven’s arch above you -------d/If you will cast your eyes on me -------------c/However plain you be – I’ll love you -----------d/However plain you be, if you will cast your eyes on me, However plain you be – I’ll love you, I’ll love you, I’ll love, I’ll love you! --- CORO: Alas! there’s not one maiden here/Whose homely face and bad complexion/Have caused all hope to disappear/Of ever winning man’s affection!/Not one? No, no – not one! Not one? No, no!-------------------




1879
Sullivan. Capo Santo.




Ah must I leave thee here -----------a
in endless night to dream -------------b
where joy is dark and drear -----------a
and sorrow all supreme –--------------b
where nature, day by day --------------c
will sing, in altered tone -------------d
this weary roundelay -----------------c
“he loves thee – he is gone -----------e
fal la la la Fal la la la.
he loves thee – he is gone.
fal la la la la.







1879
Sullivan-Gilbert, “Pirates of Penzance”.


When a felon's not engaged in his employment
Or maturing his felonious little plans
His capacity for innocent enjoyment
Is just as great as any honest man's
Our feelings we with difficulty smother
When constabulary duty's to be done
Ah, take one consideration with another
A policeman's lot is not a happy one.
When constabulary duty's to be done, to be done,
A policeman's lot is not a happy one, happy one.








1880
Words by Peppino Turco, music by Luigi Denza. Composed to commemorate the opening of the funicular cable car on Monte Vesuvio in 1879-- later destroyed in 1944 by an eruption -- remains of the top station still visible). Met with huge success when first sung in the “Quisisana Hotel” in Castellammare di Stabia, later presented at the Piedigrotta festival during the same year.






jammo jammo
’ncoppa jammo jà
funiculì funiculà



a'ssera nanninè me ne sagliette
tu saje addò tu saje addò
addò ’stu core ’ngrato cchiù dispietto farme nun pò
addò lu fuoco coce ma si fuje
te lassa sta
e nun te corre appriesso nun te struje sulo a guardà




né jammo da la terra a la montagna .... no passo nc'è!
se vede Francia, Proceta e la Spagna
io veco a tte
tirato co la fune ditto ’nfatto
’ncielo se va
se va comm' 'à lu viento a l'intrasatto guè saglie sà




se n' è sagliuta, oì né, se n' 'è sagliuta la capa già
è gghiuta pò è turnata pò è venuta
sta sempe ccà!
la capa vota vota, attuorno attuorno,
attuorno a tte
sto core canta sempe
nu taluorno
sposammo oì né

yesterday evening, Nannina, I climbed up, you know where, to where this ungrateful heart can no longer vex me, where a fire is burning but if you flee it lets you be & it doesn't chase you or melt you with just one glance, let's go to the top, funiculì, funiculà, let's go from here below up to the mountain, a step away, you see France, Procida and Spain & I see you, you rise, pulled by a cable, quick as a wink into the sky, we'll rise up like a whirlwind all of a sudden knows how to do, my head is spinning, O Nannina, it's gone up there already, it went there, spun 'round and then returned, it's always here, my head is spinning, spinning, encircling you, this heart is always singing the same refrain, marry me



1880
Frederic H. Cowen/Mrs Hemans. The better land



I hear thee speak of a better land
thou call’st its children a happy band
tell me where is that radiant shore,
shall we not seek it & weep no more
is it where the flower ot the orange blows
& the fire-flies dance thru the myrtle boughs
o no ‘tis not there not there not there.
not there, not there, my child.



is it far away in some region old,
where the rivers wander o’er sands of gold,
where the burning rays of the ruby shine,
& the diamonds lights up the secret mine,
& the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand,
is it there, my brother, that better land
o no ‘tis not there, not there, not there,
Not there, not there, not there.



for eye hath not seen it my gentle boy,
ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy;
dreams cannot picture a world so fair
sorrow and death may not enter there:
time cannot breathe on its fadeless bloom
for beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb
is it there? ‘Tis there, my child.
is it there? ‘Tis there, my child.
‘tis there, ‘tis there, that better land.









1883
“Tavern in the Town” Alternate titles: “There Is an Alehouse in Yonder Town”; “There's a Tavern in the Town”; “Up The Green Meadow” Author: unknown Earliest date: 1883 Keywords: lonelinesscourtinginfidelityrejectionabandonment Found in: Britain(England(Lond,South,West)) US Canada(Newf) Ireland Singer laments her lover, who courted her ardently but now goes to a tavern and courts others while leaving her pining. She hopefully anticipates dying and being buried. Supplemental text There Is a Tavern in the Town From sheet music published 1891 by Willis Woodward & Co. The music,curiously, is credited to F. J. Adams but the whole is copyrighted by Franklin Robinson. Title page inscribed THERE IS A * * TAVERN IN THE TOWN Song and Chorus The Seasons Succes otes The overlap between this song and the "Butcher Boy" cluster is obvious; whether they're the same song is a Talmudic question. –PJS The 1891 sheet music credits this piece to F. J. Adams. The earliest known printing of "Tavern" (as opposed to the presumably related Cornish miners' song "There is an Alehouse in Yonder Town"), however, does not give the author's name. Alan Lomax calls "Hard Ain't It Hard" a reworking of this piece, and I'm going along on the principle that it certainly isn't a traditional song (given that it's by Woody Guthrie). I don't think it's that simple, though; the "Hard ain't it hard" chorus clearly derives from "Ever After On." – RBW Yes, Rudy Vallee recorded it too. And blew the lyrics, I might add [My understanding is that the people around him were trying, with great success, to crack him up - RBW]. But clearly the song remained current in pop culture as well as folk culture. It was also reputed to have been popularamong collegiates. – PJS "Hang my harp on a willow tree" may be taken from Psalms 137.2 [King James] via Thomas Haynes Bayly. Cf. "I'll Hang My Harp on a Willow Tree." Broadside Bodleian Firth b.28(6a/b) View 7 of 8 ascribes "There Is A Tavern In The Town" to W.H. Hills. – BS Somewhere in my youth, someone (probably school authorities) forced upon us a game, "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes." Thirty-odd years later, I recalled it for some reason, and realize that the tune is an up-tempo version of this. If the song was inflicted upon other classes than mine, it may be that the song has had some sort of horrid second life. – RBW Amy Birch's version on Voice11 has a first line "Over yonder's hill there is an old house" but continues to be enough like "Tavern in the Town" that I put it here rather than Laws P25 or any of the other songs in this cluster. - BS Cross references cf. "The Butcher Boy" [Laws P24] (plot) cf. "The Sailor Boy (I)" [Laws K12] (lyrics cf. "Love Has Brought Me to Despair" [Laws P25] . "I Know My Love" (floating lyrics) cf. "Oh, Johnny, Johnny" (floating lyrics) Bodleian, Firth b.28(6a/b) View 7 of 8, "There Is A Tavern In The Town," R. March and Co. (London), 1877-1884 Amy Birch, "Over Yonder's Hill" (on Voice11)"Pops" Johnny Connors, "There is an Alehouse" (on IRTravellers01)Geoff Ling, "Died for Love" (on Voice10) Rudy Vallee, "Tavern in the Town" (Victor 24739, 1934)SEE ALSO:Almanac Singers, "Hard, Ain't It Hard" (General 5019A, 1941; on Almanac01, Almanac03, AlmanaCD1) Woody Guthrie, "Hard Ain't It Hard" (Folk Tunes 150, n.d., probably mid-1940s References Sharp-100E 94, "A Brisk Young Sailor" (1 text, 1 tune) Leather, pp. 205-206, "A Brisk Young Sailor" (1 text, 1 tune) Belden, pp. 478-480, "The Blue-Eyed Boy" (4 texts, though "D" is a fragment, probably of "Tavern in the Town" or "The Butcher Boy" or some such) BrownIII 259, "I'll Hang My Harp on a Willow Tree" (2 fragments, named for that key line from "Tavern in the Town" which occurs in both fragments, but the "A" text is mostly "Pretty Little Foot") SHenry H683, p. 393, "The Apron of Flowers" (1 text, 1 tune -- apparently a collection of floating verses including one that goes here) RJackson-19CPop, pp. 210-213, "There Is a Tavern in the Town" (1 text, 1 tune) Spaeth-ReadWeep, pp. 84-85, "There Is a Tavern in the Town" (1 text, 1 tune) Siler-FSWB, p. 180, "There Is A Tavern In The Town" (1 text) Fuld-WFM, pp. 572-573, "There Is a Tavern in the Town" LPound-ABS, 23, p. 62, "There Is a Tavern in the Town" (1 text; the "A" text is "The Butcher Boy" Peacock, pp. 705-706, "She Died in Love" (1 text, 1 tune) Darling-NAS, pp. 140-141, "The Tavern in the Town" (1 text, filed under "The Butcher Boy") DT, TAVTOWN* SEE ALSO: Lomax-FSNA 229, "Hard, Ain't It Hard" (1 text, 1 tune) Silber-FSWB, p. 185, "Hard, Ain't It Hard" (1 text)DT, TAVTOWN AINTHARD* ST ShH94 (Full) Roud #6 BI, ShH94
Fare thee well, for I must leave thee,
Do not let the parting grieve thee,
And remember that the best of friends must part, must part
Adieu, adieu, kind friends, adieu, adieu, adieu,
I can no longer stay with you, stay with you,
I'll hang my harp on a weeping willow tree,
And may the world go well with thee.
There is a tavern in the town, in the town,*
And there my dear love sits him down, sits him down
And drinks his wine 'mid laughter free,
And never, never thinks of me.



He left me for a damsel dark, damsel dark,*
Each Friday night they used to spark, used to spark,
And now my love once true to me,
Takes that dark damsel on his knee.


3. Oh! dig my grave both wide and deep, wide and deep,*
Put tombstones at my head and feet, head and feet,
And on my breast carve a turtle dove,
To signify I died of love.



Notes
The overlap between this song and the "Butcher Boy" cluster is obvious; whether they're the same song is a Talmudic question. -PJS
The 1891 sheet music credits this piece to F. J. Adams. The earliest known printing of "Tavern" (as opposed to the presumably related Cornish miners' song "There is an Alehouse in Yonder Town"), however, does not give the author's name.
Alan Lomax calls "Hard Ain't It Hard" a reworking of this piece, and I'm going along on the principle that it certainly isn't a traditional song (given that it's by Woody Guthrie). I don't think it's that simple, though; the "Hard ain't it hard" chorus clearly derives from "Ever After On." - RBW
Yes, Rudy Vallee recorded it too. And blew the lyrics, I might add [My understanding is that the people around him were trying, with great success, to crack him up - RBW]. But clearly the song remained current in pop culture as well as folk culture. It was also reputed to have been popular among collegiates. - PJS
"Hang my harp on a willow tree" may be taken from Psalms 137.2 [King James] via Thomas Haynes Bayly. Cf. "I'll Hang My Harp on a Willow Tree."
Broadside Bodleian Firth b.28(6a/b) View 7 of 8 ascribes "There Is A Tavern In The Town" to W.H. Hills. - BS
Somewhere in my youth, someone (probably school authorities) forced upon us a game, "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes." Thirty-odd years later, I recalled it for some reason, and realize that the tune is an up-tempo version of this. If the song was inflicted upon other classes than mine, it may be that the song has had some sort of horrid second life. - RBW
Amy Birch's version on Voice11 has a first line "Over yonder's hill there is an old house" but continues to be enough like "Tavern in the Town" that I put it here rather than Laws P25 or any of the other songs in this cluster. - BS
Cross references
cf. "The Butcher Boy" [Laws P24] (plot)
cf. "The Sailor Boy (I)" [Laws K12] (lyrics)
cf. "Love Has Brought Me to Despair" [Laws P25]
cf. "I Know My Love" (floating lyrics)
cf. "Oh, Johnny, Johnny" (floating lyrics)
Broadsides
Bodleian, Firth b.28(6a/b) View 7 of 8, "There Is A Tavern In The Town," R. March and Co. (London), 1877-1884
Recordings
Amy Birch, "Over Yonder's Hill" (on Voice11)
"Pops" Johnny Connors, "There is an Alehouse" (on IRTravellers01)
• Geoff Ling, "Died for Love" (on Voice10)
• Rudy Vallee, "Tavern in the Town" (Victor 24739, 1934)
• SEE ALSO:
• Almanac Singers, "Hard, Ain't It Hard" (General 5019A, 1941; on Almanac01, Almanac03, AlmanacCD1)
• Woody Guthrie, "Hard Ain't It Hard" (Folk Tunes 150, n.d., probably mid-1940s)
References Sharp-100E 94, "A Brisk Young Sailor" (1 text, 1 tune)
Leather, pp. 205-206, "A Brisk Young Sailor" (1 text, 1 tune)
1. Belden, pp. 478-480, "The Blue-Eyed Boy" (4 texts, though "D" is a fragment, probably of "Tavern in the Town" or "The Butcher Boy" or some such)
2. BrownIII 259, "I'll Hang My Harp on a Willow Tree" (2 fragments, named for that key line from "Tavern in the Town" which occurs in both fragments, but the "A" text is mostly "Pretty Little Foot")
3. SHenry H683, p. 393, "The Apron of Flowers" (1 text, 1 tune -- apparently a collection of floating verses including one that goes here)
4. RJackson-19CPop, pp. 210-213, "There Is a Tavern in the Town" (1 text, 1 tune)
5. Spaeth-ReadWeep, pp. 84-85, "There Is a Tavern in the Town" (1 text, 1 tune)
6. Silber-FSWB, p. 180, "There Is A Tavern In The Town" (1 text)
7. Fuld-WFM, pp. 572-573, "There Is a Tavern in the Town"
8. LPound-ABS, 23, p. 62, "There Is a Tavern in the Town" (1 text; the "A" text is "The Butcher Boy")
9. Peacock, pp. 705-706, "She Died in Love" (1 text, 1 tune)
10. Darling-NAS, pp. 140-141, "The Tavern in the Town" (1 text, filed under "The Butcher Boy")
11. DT, TAVTOWN*
12. SEE ALSO:
13. Lomax-FSNA 229, "Hard, Ain't It Hard" (1 text, 1 tune)
14. Silber-FSWB, p. 185, "Hard, Ain't It Hard" (1 text)
15. DT, TAVTOWN AINTHARD*
16. ST ShH94 (Full)
17. Roud #60
18. BI, ShH94


1881
Gilbert e Sullivan. “PAZIENZA: opera estetica in due atti.” (“An entirely new and original aesthetic OPERA in two acts, entitled PATIENCE; or, Bunthorne's Bride!”). Teatro dell’Opera Comica, Londra. Tenore: Luogotenente Duca di Dunstable (“Lieut. The Duke of Dunstable.”)




prithee,pretty maiden
prithee, tell me true
hey but I’m doleful


gentle sir my heart
is frolicsome & free
hey but he’s doleful


prithee pretty maiden
will you marry me
hey but I’m hopeful


gentle sir altho’
to marry I decline
hey but he’s hopeful


willow willow waly



have you e’er a lover
a-dangling after you



nobody I care for
comes a-courting me



I may say at once
I’m a man of propertee



as yet I do not know you
and so I must decline



hey willow waly o



I would fain discover
if you have a lover




nobody I care for
comes a courting therefore




money I despise it
many people prize it




to other maidens go you
as yet I do not know you



hey willow waly o


1881


Offenbach. “I RACCONTI DI HOFFMAN” (Barcarola). Scena: Venezia.


bella note o notte d'amore
sorridi alle nostre ebbrezze
notte più dolce del giorno
bella notte d'amore
il tempo fugge e senza ritorno
porta le nostre tenerezze
lontano da questo soggiorno ridente
il tempo fugge senza ritorno
zefiri abbracciati
versateci le vostre carezze
dateci i vostri baci
versateci i nostri baci.






1881
Edward Slater (“Odoardo Barri”)/F. E. Weatherly

then steadily shoulder to shoulder
steadily blade by blade
ready & strong marching along
like the boys of THE OLD BRIGADE



Where are the boys of the old Brigade,
Who fought with us side by side?
Shoulder to shoulder, and blade by blade,
Fought till they fell and died!
Who so ready and undismayed?
Who so merry and true?
Where are the boys of the old Brigade?
Where are the lads we knew?
Over the sea far away they lie,
Far from the land of their love;
Nations alter, the years go by,
But Heav’n still is Heav’n above,
Not in the abbey proudly laid
Find they a place or part;
The gallant boys of the old Brigade,
They sleep in old England’s heart.









1882
J. W. Bischoff.



is it wrong to kiss! asked a timid maid
of the shimmering sands that bordered the deep
no an-swer she got, save the wave-lets played
a round-e-lay gay, as they kissed her feet
she asked the sun but he on-ly turned his sau-cy face
from the east-ern sky & he kissed her cheeks
till they fairly burned & a tear of vexation dimmed her eye
She asked the wind as it came from the south
the self same ques-tion the an-swer came
For a zeph-yr sprang up and kissed her mouth
Till her cheeks and her lips they seemed a flame;
She asked a youth who chanced a-long
And the mor-al ques-tion was solved in a trice
For he an-swered Oh, maid-en, it may be wrong
But, here he pro-ved it 'Tis "ve-ry nice, "ve-ry nice," "Ve-ry nice."



1882



Gilbert e Sullivan. “IOLANTA, la fata”“An entirely original fairy opera in two acts, entitled IOLANTHE, or, the Peer and the Peri”. Savoy Theatre, London. Tolloler.----------------------------------------------


Of all the young ladies I know ------------ a
this pretty young lady's the fairest -----------b
her lips have the rosiest show ----------------a
her eyes are the richest and rarest --------------b
her origin's lowly, it's true --------------c/but of birth and position I've plenty --- d/I've grammar and spelling for two ----------c/and blood and behaviour for twenty. -------d/her origin's lowly, it's true, /I've grammar and spelling for two; /Of birth and position he's plenty, /With blood and behaviour for twenty!











1883

alive alive o alive alive o
crying cockles & mussels
alive alive o.



in Dublin's fair city
where the girls are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
as she wheeled her wheel-barrow,
thru streets broad and narrow,
crying Cockles & mussels alive alive o


she was a fishmonger,
but sure 'twas no wonder,
for so were her father and mother before,
& they each wheeled their barrow,
thru streets broad and narrow,
crying cockles & mussels alive alive o


she died of a fayver
& no one could save her,
& that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
now her ghost wheels her barrow,
thru streets broad and narrow,
crying cockles & mussels alive alive o









1884
M: C. A. White, w: Mrs. Frank B. Pratt.


PLEASE SELL NO MORE DRINK TO MY FATHER
it makes him so strange & so wild
heed the prayer of my heartbroken mother
& pity the poor drunkard's child








Please sir will you listen a moment,
I've something important to say.
My Mother has sent you a message,
Re-ceive it in kind-ness I pray.
'Tis of Father poor Father I'm speak-ing,
You know him he's call'd ragged Gore.
But we love him and hope we may save him,
If you'll promise to sell him no more.


My Father came home yestereven,
Reeled home thro' the mud and the rain.
He upset the lamp on the table,
And struck my sick Mother again,
Then all of the hours till the morning,
He lay on the cold kitchen floor.
And this morning he's sick and he's sorry,
Oh, promise to sell him no more.


When sober he loves us so dearly,
No Father is kinder than he.
He wishes so much to stop drinking,
But this is the trouble you see,
He cannot withstand the temptation,
He feels when he passes your door,
As he goes to his work in the morning,
Please promise to sell him no more.






1884
w.m. Percy Montrose

o my darling o my darling
o MY DARLING CLEMENTINE
you are lost & gone forever
dreadful sorry Clementine.

In a cavern, in a canyon,
Excavating for a mine
Dwelt a miner forty niner,
And his daughter Clementine.
Light she was and like a fairy,
And her shoes were number nine
Herring boxes, without topses,
Sandals were for Clementine.
Drove she ducklings to the water
Ev'ry morning just at nine,
Hit her foot against a splinter,
Fell into the foaming brine.
Ruby lips above the water,
Blowing bubbles, soft and fine,
But, alas, I was no swimmer,
So I lost my Clementine.
How I missed her! How I missed her,
How I missed my Clementine,
But I kissed her little sister,
I forgot my Clementine.




1884
Gilbert/Sullivan. “LA PRINCIPESSA IDA, ovvero il Castello Adamantino” “perverzione operistica rispettosa, in tre atti, della Principessa” di Tennyson (“A respectful OPERATIC perversion of Tennyson's "Princess", in three acts, entitled PRINCESS IDA, or, Castle Adamant.”). Teatro della Savoia, Londra. Ilarione, tenore. RECIT.


To-day we meet, my baby bride and I —/But ah, my hopes are balanced by my fears! /What transmutations have been conjured by /The silent alchemy of twenty years!/Ida was a twelve-month old, /Twenty years ago! /I was twice her age, I'm told, /Twenty years ago! /Husband twice as old as wife, /Argues ill for married life; /Baleful prophecies were rife, /Twenty years ago, /Twenty years ago! /Still, I was a tiny Prince, /Twenty years ago! /She has gained upon me, since /Twenty years ago! /Though she's twenty-one, it's true, /I am barely twenty-two; /False and foolish prophets you /Twenty years ago, /Twenty years ago. ---------------------------














1884
Sullivan. Principessa Ida.



Expressive glances -------------a/shall be our lances -------------a/and pops of sillery --------------b/our light artillery -------------------b/we'll storm their bowers ------------c/with scented showers -----------------c/of fairest flowers ----------------------c/that we can buy ------------------d RITORNELLO: Oh, dainty triolet -- Oh, fragrant violet! -- Oh, gentle heigho-let! -- (Or little sigh -- On sweet urbanity -- Tho' mere inanity -- To touch their vanity -- We will rely! When day is fading -- With serenading -- And such frivolity -- We'll prove our quality -- A sweet profusion -- Of soft allusion -- This bold intrusion -- Shall justify -- This bold intrusion -- Shall justify./We'll charm their senses -- With verbal fences -- With ballads amatory -- And declamatory -- Little heeding -- Their pretty pleading -- Our love exceeding -- We'll justify -- Our love exceeding -- We'll justify!







1884
Bingham. Molloy

just a song a twilight when the lights are low
& the flick’ring shadows softly come and go
tho’ the heart be weary sad the day & long
still to us at twilight comes love's old song.



once in the dear dead days beyond recall
when on the world the mists began to fall
out of the dreams that rose in happy throng
low to our hearts love sang an old sweet song
& in the dusk where fell the firelight gleam
softly it wove itself into our dream.
even today we hear love’s song of yore
deep in our hearts it dwells for evermore
footsteps may falter, weary grow the way
still we can hear it at the close of day
so till the end when life's dim shadows fall
love will be found the sweetest song of all.




1885
Edgar Selden


cuckoo cuckoo
I know you are calling
yo ho lei ho le yo hol ei
you always sing when
dew drops are falling,
yo ho lei ho lei.



When the eventide draws near,
And stars begin to peep,
All nature then is hushed and still,
And flow'rs have gone to sleep,
'Tis then I love to roam afar,
When silence reigns o'er all,
And listen for that song most dear,
The lonely cuckoo's call.



Softly on a summer's eve,
The cuckoo calls its mate,
I linger list'ning to the sound,
Until the hour grows late,
It has for me a magic charm,
I love it best of all,
When weary at the close of day,
To hear the cuckoo's call.


Thro' the woods I love to roam,
When free from toil or care,
And rest within some mossy nook,
Amid the flow'rs so fair,
The evening shadows close around,
The night begins to fall,
And as I near the garden gate,
I hear the cuckoo's call.







1885


Francesco Paolo Tosti received most of his music education in his native Ortona, Italy, as well as the conservatory in Naples. Tosti began his music education at the Royal College of San Pietro a Majella at the age of eleven. He studied violin with Pinto and composition with Saverio Mercadante,who became so impressed with Tosti that he appointed him student teacher, which afforded the young man a meagre salary of 60 francs a month.Poor health forced Tosti to leave his studies and return home to Ortona. He was confined to his bed for several months. During this time he composed several songs, two of which he submitted to the Florentine Art Society, and two others he submitted for publication to Ricordi. All four were rejected. Once recovered from his illness, Tosti moved to Ancona, where his poverty was such that for weeks at a time he subsisted on nothing but oranges and stale bread. His travels brought him to Rome, where his fortunes turned. He met the pianist and composer Giovanni Sgambati, who became his patron. Sgambati arranged for Tosti to give a concert at the Sala Dante at which the Princess Margherita of Savoy (who later became Queen of Italy) was present. She was so impressed with his performance that she appointed him her singing professor. She later appointed him curator of the Musical Archives of Italy at the Court. In 1875 Tosti traveled to London. He made several powerful friends who introduced him to the highest levels of English society. Tosti was a staple in fashionable drawing rooms and salons, and in 1880, he was made singing master to the Royal Family. His fame as a composer of songs grew rapidly while he was in England. One of his compositions, For Ever and For Ever was introduced by Violet Cameron at the Globe Theatre. This song became a favourite overnight, and there was an enormous demand for his compositions. By 1885 he was the most popular composer of songs in England. His publishers paid him a staggering retaining fee for 12 songs a year. In 1894 Tosti joined the Royal Academy of Music as a professor. In 1906, he became a British citizen and was knighted two years later by his friend, King Edward VII. A memorial plaque on his former home at 12 Mandeville Place, Marylebone (now the Mandeville Hotel) was unveiled on 12 June 1996. In 1913 he returned to Italy to spend his last years there. He died in Rome on December 2, 1916. Tosti is remembered for his light, expressive songs, which are characterized by natural, singable melodies and sweet sentimentality. He is also known for his editions of Italian folk songs entitled "Canti popolari Abruzzesi". His style became very popular during the Belle Époque and is often known as salon music. His most famous works are Serenata (lyrics: Cesareo), Good-bye! (lyrics: George J. Whyte-Melville) which is sometimes performed in Italian as Addio (lyrics: Rizzelli), and the popular Neapolitan song, Marechiare, the lyrics of which are by the prominent Neapolitan dialect poet, Salvatore Di Giacomo. Malia, Ancora and Non t'amo piu were and remain popular concert pieces.Tosti wrote well for the voice, allowing, indeed encouraging, interpretation and embellishment from operatic singers. Most artists, therefore, specializing in the classical Italian repertoire have performed and recorded Tosti songs; yet Tosti never composed opera. Notable examples on record include Alessandro Moreschi (the only castrato who ever recorded) singing "Ideale", Mattia Battistini singing "Ancora", Nellie Melba singing "Mattinata" and Jussi Björling singing "L'alba separa dalla luce l'ombra". scores by Paolo Tosti at the International Music Score Library ProjectFree scores by Paolo Tosti in the Choral Public Domain Library (Choral Wiki)



1885


Tosti. I versi della canzone furono composti nel 1885 da Salvatore di Giacomo, che non era mai stato sul posto della celebre fenestrella ‘e Marechiare, ma che si era immaginato il tutto. Il poeta napoletano però non amava questa poesia, che non fu mai inserita nelle raccolte da lui stesso curate. Invece il musicista Paolo Tosti ne fu ispirato e creò così la famosa melodia che rese la canzone talmente celebre in tutto il mondo da farla tradurre in più lingue e persino in latino «Luna cum Claris Maris exstas undis / aestuant pisce furiis amoris: / pura perlabens variat micantes unda colores» («Quanno sponta la luna a Marechiare / pure li pisce nce fanno a ll’ammore, / se revoteno ll’onne de lu mare, / pe la priezza cagneno culore»). A Marechiare (Musica di Paolo Tosti, testo di Salvatore di Giacomo, 1886)

Quanno spónta la luna a Marechiare
pure li pisce nce fanno a ll'ammore
se revòtano ll'onne de lu mare
pe' la priézza cágnano culore
a Marechiare ce sta na fenestra
la passiona mia ce tuzzuléa
nu garofano addora 'int'a na testa
passa ll'acqua pe' sotto e murmuléa
chi dice ca li stelle só' lucente
nun sape st'uocchie ca tu tiene 'nfronte
sti ddoje stelle li ssaccio i' sulamente
dint'a lu core ne tengo li ppónte
scétate, Carulí', ca ll'aria è doce
quanno maje tantu tiempo aggi'aspettato
p'accumpagná li suone cu la voce
stasera na chitarra aggio purtato...


1885
Francesco Paolo Tosti/George John Whyte Melville.

goodbye forever goodbye forever
goodbye goodbye goodbye



hush a voice from the far away
"Listen and learn," it seems to say,
"All the tomorrows shall be as today."
"All the tomorrows shall be as today."
The cord is frayed, the cruse is dry,
The link must break, and the lamp must die --
Goodbye to Hope! Goodbye! Goodbye!
Goodbye to Hope! Goodbye! Goodbye!


Falling leaf and fading tree,
Lines of white in a sullen sea,
Shadows rising on you and me;
Shadows rising on you and me;
The swallows are making them ready to fly,
Wheeling out on a windy sky.
Goodbye to Hope! Goodbye! Goodbye!
Goodbye to Hope! Goodbye! Goodbye!


What are we waiting for? Oh, my heart!
Kiss me straight on the brows! and part again!
Again! my heart! my heart! What are we waiting for, you and I?
A pleading look, a stifled cry.
Goodbye, forever! Goodbye, forever!
Goodbye! Goodbye!




1885
Gilbert e Sullivan. “IL MIKADO, ovvero il vilaggio di Titipu”. opera giapponese.” (“An Entirely Original Japanese Opera, in Two Acts, entitled The Mikado, or, The Town of Titipu.” Teatro della Savoia, Londra. Nanki Poo, tenore. ------------------------------------------------------------------


A wand’ring minstrel I
a thing of shreds and patches
of ballads, songs and snatches
and dreamy lullaby/my catalogue is long, through every passion ranging, /And to your humours changing /I tune my supple song/I tune my supple song/Are you in sentimental mood? /I'll sigh with you, /Oh, sorrow, sorrow! /On maiden's coldness do you brood? I'll do so, too/Oh, sorrow, sorrow! /I'll charm your willing ears /With songs of lovers' fears, While sympathetic tears/My cheeks bedew — Oh, sorrow, sorrow!






1885
Francesco Paolo Tosti /Carmelo Errico




ricordi ancora il dì che c'incontrammo?
Le tue promesse le ricordi ancor?
Folle d'amore io ti seguii,
ci amammo
E accanto a te sognai, folle d'amor
Sognai felice di carezze a baci
Una catena dileguante in ciel;
Ma le parole tue furon mendaci
Perché l'anima tua fatta è di gel.
Te ne ricordi ancor?
Te ne ricordi ancor?
Or la mia fede, il desiderio immenso
Il mio sogno d'amor non sei più tu
I tuoi baci non cerco,
a te non penso
Sogno un altro ideal:
Non t'amo più, non t'amo più!


Nei cari giorni che passamo insieme,
io cosparsi di fiori il tuo sentier.
Tu fosti del mio cor l'unica speme,
tu della mente l'unica pensier.
Tu m'hai visto pregare, impallidire,
piangere tu m'hai visto inanzi a te.
Io, sol per appagare un tuo desire
avrei dato il mio sangue e la mia fè.


Te ne ricordi ancor?
Te ne ricordi ancor?
Or la mia fede, il desiderio immenso
Il mio sogno d'amor non sei più tu
I tuoi baci non cerco,
a te non penso
Sogno un altro ideal:
Non t'amo più, non t'amo più!



1885
George Ware – written for the music hall star Miss Nelly Power.

the boy I love is up in the gallery
the boy I love is looking now at me
there he is, can't you see
waving his handkerchee
as merry as a robin that sings on a tree.




I'm a young girl, and have just come over
Over from the country where they do things big,
And amongst the boys I've got a lover,
And since I've got a lover, why I don't care a fig.
The boy that I love, they call him a cobbler,
But he's not a cobbler, allow me to state.
For Johnny is a tradesman and he works in the Boro'1
Where they sole and heel them, whilst you wait.
Now, If I were a Duchess and had a lot of money,
I'd give it to the boy that's going to marry me.
But I haven't got a penny, so we'll live on love and kisses,
And be just as happy as the birds on the tree.


1886
Frank Howard.


ah ’tis only a pansy blossom
only a withered flower
yet to me far dearer
than all in earth's fair bower
bringing me back the Junetime
of a summer long ago
the fairest, suniest summer
that I shall ever know.





oft from this pale dead blossom
I see a fair face start
a face like a sweet wild flower
out of its faded heart
only a pansy I gathered at her feet
faded, unlike the love
that made that summer sweet
still in this pansy blossom
her tender face I see



from under the church yard grasses
bringing her back to me.



1886
Effie I Canning


ROCKABYE BABY on the tree top
when the wind blows the cradle will rock
when the bough breaks the cradle will fall
& down will come baby cradle & all
oh rockabye rockabye mother is near
then rockabye rockabye nothing to fear
for angels of slumber are hovering near
so ROCKABYE BABY mother is here



Baby is sleeping so cozy and fair,
While mother sits near in her old oaken chair,
Her foot on the rocker the cradle she swings,
And though baby slumbers he hears what she sings.


Grandma sits knitting close by the fireplace,
With snowy white hair and a smile on her face,
The years have passed by, yet it does not seem long,
Since she rocked baby's papa to sleep with that song.


Dear little baby, their joy and their pride,
Long may he be with them whatever betide,
The kitchen, the cradle, that tender refrain,
In mem'ry will linger that lullaby strain.







1886
Wiliam Jerome (1865-1932). Several publishers refused to publish it and it was only through his wife Maude Nugent's performances that it became a hit, and finally published in 1896.

SWEET ROSIE O’GRADY
my dear little rose
she's my steady lady
most ev 'ryone knows
& when we are married
how happy we'll be
I love sweet Rosie O' Grady
& Rosie O' Grady loves me.



Down around the corner
Of the street where I reside,
There lives the cutest little girl
That I have ever spied.
Her name is Rose O' Grady
And I don't mind telling you
That she's the sweetest little rose
This garden ever grew
I never shall forget the day
She promised to be mine
As we sat telling love-tales
In the golden summertime
'Twas on her finger then
I placd a small engagement ring
While in the trees, the little birds,
This song they seemed to sing:


1886
Charles Coborn first sang it at the Paragon Theatre, in the Mile End Road.

TWO LOVELY BLACK EYES
o what a surprise
only for telling a man he was wrong.



Strolling so happy down Bethnal Green,
This gay youth you might have seen,
Tompkins and I with his girl between,
Oh what a surprise .......
I prais'd the Conservatives frank and free,
Tompkins got angry so speedilee,
All in a moment he handed to me,
Two lovely black eyes .......
Next time I argued I thought it best,
To give the conservative side a rest,
The merits of Gladstone I freely pressed,
When oh, what a surprise!
The chap I had met was a Tory true,
Nothing the Liberals right could do,
This was my share of that argument too,
Two lovely black eyes!
The moral you've caught I can hardly doubt,
Never on politics rave and shout,
Leave it to others to fight it out,
If you would be wise.
Better, far better it is to let,
Lib'rals and Tories alone, you bet,
Unless you're willing and anxious to get,
Two lovely black eyes!


1887

COMRADES COMRADES
ever since we were boys
sharing each other’s sorrows
sharing each other’s joys
comrades when manhood was dawning
faithful whatev'er might betide,
when danger threatened
my darling old comrade
was there by my side.




We from childhood play'd together,
My dear comrads Jack and I.
We would fight each other's battles,
To each other's aid we'd fly;--
And in boyish scrapes and troubles,
You would find us ev'ry where,
Where one went the other followed,
Naught could part us for we were,


When just budding into manhood,
I yearn'd for a Soldier's life,
Night and day I dream'd of glory,
Longing for the battle's strife;
I said, "Jack I'll be a Soldier,
'Neath the Red the White and Blue,
Goodbye Jack!" said he, "no, never!
If you go, then I'll go too."


I enlisted, Jack came with me,
And ups and downs we shared,
For a time our lives were peaceful,
But at length war was declared;
England's flad had been insulted,
We were ordered to the front,
And the Reg'ment we belong'd to
Had to bear the battle's brunt.





1888
Gilbert e Sullivan “LA GUARDIA ovvero IL BUFFONE e la fanciulla”. “The New and Original OPERA, in Two Acts, entitled The YEOMEN OF THE GUARD, or, The Merryman and His Maid.” Londra, Teatro di Savoia.





When a wooer goes a-wooing ----------a/naught is truer than his joy ------------------b/maiden hushing all his suing ----------------a/boldly blushing bravely coy ------------------b/---bravely coy, boldly blushing,/---boldly blushing bravely coy. RITORNELLO: Oh, the happy days of doing -------------a -Oh, the sighing and the suing -----------a-------------------When a wooer goes a-wooing ---------a/-------------------Oh the sweets that never cloy. -----------b/When a brother leaves his sister /For another, sister weeps, /Tears that trickle, Tears that blister — /'Tis but mickle sister reaps! /Tears that trickle, tears that blister — /Oh, the doing and undoing, /Oh, the sighing and the suing, /When a brother goes a-wooing, /And a sobbing sister weeps!/When a jester Is outwitted, /Feelings fester, Heart is lead! /Food for fishes Only fitted, /Jester wishes He was dead!
Food for fishes Only fitted, /Jester wishes He was dead!/Oh, the doing and undoing, /Oh, the sighing and the suing, /When a jester goes a-wooing, /And he wishes he was dead!/Oh, the doing and undoing, /Oh, the sighing and the suing, /When a jester goes a-wooing, /And he wishes he was dead, /He wishes he was dead!







1887
Sullivan/Gilbert, “Ruddygore”

Sing hay lackaday let the tears go free
For the pretty little flower and the great oak tree
Sing hey lackaday let the tears go fry
For the pretty little flower and the great oak tree.
Gilbert/Sullivan, Ruddygore















1889
Michael Nolan.


she's my sweetheart I'm her beau
she's my Annie I'm her Joe
soon we'll marry never to part
LITTLE ANNIE ROONEY is my sweetheart





A winning way, a pleasant smile;
Dress'd so neat, but quite in tyle;
Merry chaff, your time to wile,
Has little Annie Rooney.
Ev'ry evening rain or shine,
I make a call 'twixt eight and nine,
On her who shortly will be mine,
Little Annie Rooney.
The parlor's small but neat and clean;
And set with taste so seldom seen;
And you can bet the household queen;
Is little Annie Rooney.
The fire burns cheerfully and bright,
As famly circle round each night We form,
and ev'ry one's delight,
Is little Annie Rooney.
We've been engaged close on a year,
The happy time is drawing near;
I'll wed the one I love so dear,
Little Annie Rooney,
My friends declare I'm in a jest,
Until the time comes will not rest;
But one who knows its value best.
Is little Annie Rooney.






1889
M: Reginald De Koven, w: Clement Scott.














1889
Sullivan. I GONDOLIERI, ovvero il Re di Barataria. (“An Entirely Original Comic OPERA, in Two Acts, entitled The Gondoliers, or, The King of Barataria”). Londra: Teatro di Savoia. Marco, gondoliere, tenore.



Take a pair of sparkling eyes
Hidden, ever and anon,/In a merciful eclipse —/Do not heed their mild surprise —/Having passed the Rubicon,/Take a pair of rosy lips;/Take a figure trimly planned —/Such as admiration whets —
(Be particular in this);/Take a tender little hand,/Fringed with dainty fingerettes,/Press it, press it — in parenthesis; —/Ah! Take all these, you lucky man —/Take and keep them, if you can,/If you can! /Take all these, you lucky man--/Take and keep them, if you can,/If you can! /Take a pretty little cot —/Quite a miniature affair —/Hung about with trellised vine,/Furnish it upon the spot/With the treasures rich and rare
I've endeavour'd to define./Live to love and love to live —/You will ripen at your ease,/Growing on the sunny side —/Fate has nothing more to give./You're a dainty man to please/If you're not satisfied, not satisfied./Ah! Take my counsel, happy man;/Act upon it, if you can
If you can!/Take my counsel, happy man;/Act upon it, if you can,/If you can!/Take my counsel, happy man;/Act upon it, if you can,/If you can,
Act upon it, if you can,/Happy man, if you can!









1889
Sullivan. I GONDOLIERI.


LA GAVOTTA.


I am a courtier grave and serious ----------a/who is about to kiss your hand ----------------b/try to combine a pose imperious --------------a/with a demeanour nobly bland -----------------b---- I GONDOLIERI: Let us combine a pose imperious
-------------------------With a demeanour nobly bland. 2. That's, if anything, too unbending —/too aggressively stiff and grand;/now to the other extreme you're tending /don't be so deucedly condescending!---- REGINA: --- now to the other extreme you're tending —/-----------------------------don't be so dreadfully condescending!---- GONDOLIERI: ---- oh, hard to please some noblemen seem!/at first, if anything, too unbending;
---------------------------off we go to the other extreme —/----------------------------too confoundedly condescending!/now a gavotte perform sedately —/offer your hand with conscious pride;/take an attitude not too stately,/still sufficiently dignified./now for an attitude not too stately,/still sufficiently dignified./oncely, twicely — oncely, twicely —/Bow impressively ere you glide./Capital both, capital both — you've caught it nicely!
That is the style of thing precisely! /Capital both, capital both — they've caught it nicely!/That is the style of thing precisely!/Oh, sweet to earn a nobleman's praise!/Capital both, capital both — we've caught it nicely!/Supposing he's right in what he says,/This is the style of thing precisely!
Capital both, capital both, you've caught it nicely!Ah! this /That is the style of thing precisely!the style,/That is the style of thing,This is the style of thing,/The style of thing precisely!The style of thing precisely







1890



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!



1900











IL NOVECENTO














1900

Peepin' through the knot-hole
of grandpa's wooden leg
who'll wind the clock when I'm gone
to get the ax
there's a flea in Lizzie's ear
for a boy's best friend is his mother
peepin' through the knot-hole
of grandpa's wooden leg
why do they build the shore so near the ocean
who cut the sleeves
out of dear old daddy's vest
& dug up Fido's bones to build the sewer
a horsey stood around
with his feet upon the ground
oh who will wind the clock when I'm gone
go get the ax,
there's a fly on Lizzie's ear
but a boy's best friend is his mother
I fell from a window
a second-story window
I caught my eyebrow on the window-sill
the cellar is behind the door
Mary's room is behind the ax
but a boy's best friend is his mother
The horses run around
their feet are on the ground
oh, who will wind the clocks when I'm away, away
go get the ax
there's a fly on the baby's chest
& a boy's best friend is his mother, his mother
while peeping through a knot-hole
in grandpa's wooden leg
oh, who has put the shore so near the ocean, the ocean
go get the Listerine, sister's got a beau
& Grandma's false teeth will soon fit Jenny, fit Jenny
while walking in the moonlight
the bright and sunny moonlight
she kissed me in the eye with a tomato, tomato
a snake's belt slips because he has no hips
so he wears his neck tie around his middle, his middle.






1900
Jessie Bartlett Davis


IT’S JUST BECAUSE I LOVE YOU SO sweetheart
JUST BECAUSE I LOVE YOU so
you & I may part
but still you'll own my heart
just because I love you



I used to wonder why it was my heart
Beat like a flutt'ring bird when you drew near
I did not know t'was witched by Love's sweet art
And though it called for you I could not hear,
But ah! its whisp'rings are no longer vain
The tale it strove to tell me now is plain
And if you care to know What makes it throb and glow
It's just because I love you so
I used to wonder why it was that you
Seemed diff'rent from the rest that come and go
And why your smiles and glances thrilled me through
And why, when you were gone I missed you so;
But now I see, with eyes no longer blind
Why you are always in my heart and mind
And why you're more to me Than all this world could be
It's just because I love you so.






1900
Reginald De Koven. Foxy Quiller Two-Step.















1900
w. Arthur J. Lamb m. Harry Von Tilzer

she's only A BIRD IN A GILDED CAGE
a beautiful sight to see
you may think she's happy & free from care
she's not tho’ she seems to be
'tis sad when you think of her wasted life
for youth cannot mate with age
& her beauty was sold for an old man's gold
she's A BIRD IN A GILDED CAGE.



the ballroom was filled with fashions throng,
it shone with a thousand lights,
And there was a woman who passed along,
The fairest of all the sights,
A girl to her lover then softly sighed,
There's riches at her command;
But she married for wealth, not for love he cried,
Though she lives in a mansion grand.
I stood in a churchyard just at eve',
When sunset adorned the west,
And looked at the people who'd come to grieve,
For loved ones now laid at rest,
A tall marble monument marked the grave,
Of one who'd been fashions queen,
And I thought she is happier here at rest,
Than to have people say when s


1900
Puccini, “Tosca”. Roma, Londra.





O dolci baci o languide carezze
Mentr’io fremente le belle forme discioglie dai veli
Svani per smpre il sogno mio d’amore
L’ora e fuggita e muoi disperato

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