Just For Dear Rhyme’s Sake

     One day Miss “Annie Rooney”

     On “McGinty” did get spooney,

To the chagrin of our little “Rosy Lee”;

     But “Captain Jinks” soon cheered her,

     For he whispered as he neared her:

“Come, spread out your White Wings, and sail on home with me.”

     But “Old Zip Coon” objected,

     Just as “Uncle Ned” expected,

While “Nickodemus” grabbed the “Hat his father wore,”

     And that good old dame “Susanna”,

     Run up the “Star Spangled Banner”,

While “Ben” with “Norah Darling”, made a “Bolt” for the door.

     Then in came “Annie Laurie”,

     Leading “Douglas”, who was sorry,

For she caught him “Whispering Hope” to “Evalina’s” “Radiant Heart;”

     But “Old Grimes”, “Black Joe”, “Robin”

     Came along the road “Dobbin”,

And took ‘em all to “Tara’s Hall” in “Paddy Duffy’s Cart.”

June 2, ‘91

Pub. in

“Music and Mirth”

Little Annie Rooney.

Words by Michael Nolan. Music by George Le Brun.

A winning way, a pleasant smile, dressed so neat, but quite in style,

Merry chaff your time to wile, has little Annie Rooney;

Every evening, rain or shine, I make a call 'twixt eight and nine,

On her who shortly will be mine, little Annie Rooney.

Chorus.

She's my sweetheart, I'm her beau,

She's my Annie, I'm her Joe;

Soon we'll marry ne'er to part.

Little Annie Rooney is my sweetheart.

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 a family circle round each night

We form, and every one's delight is little Annie Rooney.-Chorus.

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. -Chorus.

Paddy McGinty's Goat

traditional

Mr. Patrick McGinty, an Irishman of note,
Came into a fortune, so bought himself a goat.
Said he, "Sure, of goat's milk I mean to have my fill!"
But when he got his Nanny home, he found it was a Bill.

And now all the ladies who live in Killaloo
Are all wearing bustles like their mothers used to do.
They each wear a bolster beneath the petticoat,
And leave the rest to Providence and Paddy McGinty's goat!

Missis Burke to her daughter said, "Listen, Mary Jane, .
Now who was the man you were cuddling in the lane?
He'd long wiry whiskers all hanging from his chin."
"Twas only Pat McGinty's goat, " she answer'd with a grin.

Then she went away from the village in disgrace,
She came back with powder and paint upon her face.
She'd rings on her fingers, and she wore a sable coat,
You bet your life they never came from Paddy McGinty's goat.

Little Norah McCarthy the knot was going to tie,
She washed all her trousseau and hung it out to dry.
Then up came the goat and he saw the bits of white:
He chewed up all her falderals, and on her wedding night:

"Oh turn out the gas quick!" she shouted out to Pat,
For though l'm your bride, sure l'm not worth looking at.
I'd got two of ev'rything, I told you when I wrote,
But now I've one of nothing, all thro' Paddy McGinty's goat.'

Mickey Riley he went to the races t'other day.
He won twenty dollars and shouted, "Hip Hooray!!"
He held up the note, shouting "Look what I've got!"
The goat came up and grabbed at it and swallowed all the lot.

"He's eaten my banknote," said Mickey, with the hump.
They ran for the doctor, he brought a stomach pump.
He pumped and he pumped for that twenty dollar note,
But all he got was ninepence out of Paddy McGinty's goat. 

Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines

traditional

I'm Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines

I feed my horse on corn and beans,

And sport young ladies in their teens

Tho' a Captain in the Army.

  I teach the ladies how to dance

  How to dance, how to dance

  I teach the ladies how to dance

  For I'm the pet of the Army

cho: I'm Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines

     I feed my horse on corn and beans,

     And often live beyond my means

     Tho' a Captain in the Army.

I joined the Corps when twenty-one

Of course I thought it capital fun

When the enemy comes, of course I run

For I'm not cut out for the Army.

  When I left home, mamma she cried

  Mamma she cried, mamma she cried,

  When I left home, mamma she cried,

  "He's not cut out for the Army."

The first time I went out for drill

The bugler sounding made me ill

Of the battlefield I'd had my fill

For I'm not cut out for the Army,

  The officers, they all did shout

  They all did shout, they all did shout,

  The officers, they all did shout,

  "Why, kick him out of the Army!"

White Wings.

Copyright, 1884, by Willis Woodward & Co.

Written and sung by Banks Winter.

Sail! home, as straight as an arrow.

My yacht shoots along on the crest of the sea;

Sail! home, to sweet Maggie Darrow,

In her dear little home she is waiting for me.

High up! where the cliffs they are craggy,

That's where the girl of my heart waits for me!

Heigh! ho, I long for you, Maggie,

I'll spread out my White Wings and sail home to thee.

Yo! ho, how we go! oh, how the winds blow!

Chorus.

"White Wings, they never grow weary.

They carry me cheerily over the sea;

Night comes, I long for my dearie,

I'll spread out my White Wings, and sail home to thee.

Sail! home, to love and caresses,

When Maggie, my darling, is there at my side;

Sail! home, blue eyes and gold tresses,

The fairest of all is my own little bride.

Sail! home, to part from thee never,

Always together life's voyage shall be;

Sail! home, to love thee forever!

I'll spread out my White Wings and sail home to thee.

Yo! ho, how we go! oh, how the winds blow!-Chorus.

Old Zip Coon

Traditional

I went down to Sandy Hook, toder artemoon;

I went down to Sandy- Hook, toder arternoon:

I went down to Sandy Hook, toder arternoon;

And de first man I met dere was old Zip Coon.

Chorus.

Old Zip Coon is a very larned scholar,

Old Zip Coon is a very larned scholar,

Old Zip Coon is a very larned scholar,

He plays upon the banjo "Cooney in de Holler.

Old Sukey Blueskin fell in lub wid me, J

She vite me to her house to take a cup a tea;

What do you think old Suke had for de supper?

Chicken-not, sparrow-grass and apple sauce butter. - Chorus.

Did you ever see de wild-goose sail upon de ocean?

O de wild-goose motion is a very pretty motion;

And when de wild-goose winks be beckons to de swallor,

And den t B wild-goose hollor, goggle goggle gollor. - Chorus.

O my old mistress is very mad wid me,

Because I wouldn't go wid her and live in Tennessee,

Massa bui A a barn dere an put in all de fodder,

Dere was lis ting and dat ting an one ting oder.-Chorus.

Uncle Ned

Stephen Foster

Dere was an old darkey, dey called him Uncle Ned,

He's dead long ago, long ago!

He had no wool on de top ob his head,

De place whar de wool ought to grow.

Chorus:

Den lay down de shubble and de hoe

Hang up de fiddle and de bow: |:

No more hard work for pool old Ned

He's gone whar de good darkeys go. :|

His fingers were long like de can in de brake,

He had no eyes for to see;

He had no teeth for to eat de corncake

So he had to let de corncake be. Chorus:

When Old Ned die Massa take it mighty bad,

De tears run down like de rain;

Old Missus turn pale and she gets berry sad

Cayse she nebber see Old Ned again.

Chorus:

Wake Nicodemus

traditional

Nicodemus, the slave, was of African birth,

And was bought for a bagful of gold,

He was reckon'd as part of the salt of the earth,

But he died years ago very old.

'Twas his last sad request, so we laid him away

In the trunk of an old hollow tree.

"Wake me up!" was his charge, "at the first break of day,

Wake me up for the great Jubilee!"

The "Good Time coming' is almost here!

It was long, long, long on the way!

Now, run and tell Elijah to hurry up Pomp,

And meet us at the gum-tree down in the swamp,

To wake Nicodemus today.

He was known as a prophet - at least was as wise -

For he told of the battles to come;

And he trembled with dread when he roll'd up his eyes,

And we heeded the shake of his thumb,

Though he clothed us with fear, yet the garments he wore

Were in patches at elbow and knee,

And he still wears the suit that he used to of yore,

As he sleeps in the old hollow tree.

Nicodemus was never the sport of the lash,

Though the bullet has oft crossed his path.

There were none of his masters so brave or so rash,

As to face such a man in his wrath,

Yet his great heart with kindness was filled to the brim,

He obeyed who was born to command,

But he long'd for the morning which then was so dim-

The morning which now is at hand.

'Twas a long weary night - we were almost in fear,

That the future was more than he knew,

'Twas a long weary night - but the morning is near,

And the words of our prophet are true.

There are signs in the sky that the darkness is gone -

There are tokens in endless array,

When the storm which had seemingly banished the dawn,

Only hastens the advent of day.

(Refrain)
The good time coming is almost here
It was long, long, long on the way
Now run and tell Elijah to hurry up pomp
And to meet us at the gum tree down in the swamp
To wake Nicodemus today

The Hat My Father Wore

Traditional Irish song:

I'm Paddy Miles, an Irish boy, just come across the sea,
For singing and for dancing, I hope that I'll please thee,
I can dance and sing with any man that's done in days of yore,
On St Patrick's Day I love to wear the hat my father wore.

[Chorus:]
It's old but it's beautiful, the best you've ever seen,
It was wore for more than ninety years, in the beautiful isle so green,
From my father's great ancentors [sic] it descended with galore,
It's a relic of old daicincy [decency], is the hat my father wore.

Oh Susanna

Stephen Foster

I come from Alabama with my Banjo on my knee—
I'se gwine to Lou'siana my true lub for to see.
It rain'd all night de day I left, de wedder it was dry;
The sun so hot I froze to def—Susanna, don't you cry.

Chorus:
Oh! Susanna, do not cry for me;
I come from Alabama, with my Banjo on my knee.

I jump'd aboard the telegraph and trabbeled down de ribber,
De lectrie fluid magnified, and kill'd five hundred Nigger.
De bullgine bust, de hoss ran off, I really thought I'd die;
I shut my eyes to hold my bref—Susanna, don't you cry.
Chorus:

I had a dream de udder night, when ebry ting was still;
I thought I saw Susanna dear, a coming down de hill.
De buckweat cake was in her mouf, de tear was in her eye,
I says, I'se coming from de souf—Susanna, don't you cry.
Chorus:

Ben Bolt

Traditional

Don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt?

Sweet Alice, with hair so brown,

Who blushed with delight if you gave her a smile,

And trembled with fear at your frown?

In the old church-yard in the valley, Ben Bolt,

In a corner obscure and lone.

They have fitted a slab of granite so gray,

And Alice lies under the stone.

Under the hickory tree, Ben Bolt,

That stood at the foot of the hill,

Together we've lain in the noon day shade

And listened to Appleton's mill.

The mill-wheel has fallen to pieces, Ben Bolt,

The rafters have tumbled in.

And a quiet that crawls round the wall as you gaze.

Takes the place of the olden din.

Do you mind the cabin of logs, Ben Bolt,

That stood in the pathless wood?

And the button-ball tree, with its motley boughs,

That nigh by the door-step stood?

The cabin to ruin has gone, Ben Bolt;

You would look for the tree in vain;

And where once the lords of the forest stood,

Grows grass And the golden grain.

And don't you remember the school, Ben Bolt,

And the master so cruel and grim?

And the shady nook in the running brook,

Where the children went to swim?

Grass grows on the master's grave, Ben Bolt,

The spring of the brook is dry,

And of all the boys who were schoolmates then,

There are only you And I!

There's a change in the things I love, Ben Bolt;

They have changed from the old to the new;

But I feel in the core of my spirit the truth,

There never was a change in you.

Twelve months twenty have passed, Ben Bolt,

Since first we were friends, yet I hail

Thy presence a blessing, thy friendship a truth,

Ben Bolt of the salt-sea gale

Norah Darling

traditional

Norah darling, don't believe them,

Never heed their flattering wiles.

Trust a heart that loves thee dearly.

Lives but in thy sunny smiles—

I must leave thee, Norah darling.

But I leave my heart with thee;

Keep It, for 'tis true and faithful

As a loving heart can be.

When the stars are round me gllst'ntng,

And the moon shines bright above,

Perhaps, my Norah, thou'lt be list'ning

To another tale of love.

Perhaps they'll tell thee I'll forget thee.

Teach thy gentle heart to fear;

Oh, my Norah, never doubt me—

Don't believe them, Norah dear.

Annie Laurie

traditional

Maxwelton's braes are bonnie

Where early fa's the dew

And 'twas there that Annie Laurie

Gave me her promise true.

Gave me her promise true

Which ne'er forgot will be

And for bonnie Annie Laurie

I'd lay me doon and dee.

Her brow is like the snowdrift

Her throat is like the swan

Her face it is the fairest

That e'er the sun shone on.

That e'er the sun shone on

And dark blue is her e'e

And for bonnie Annie Laurie

I'd lay me doon and dee.

Like dew on th'gowan lying

Is th' fa' o'her fairy feet

And like the winds in summer sighing

Her voice is low and sweet.

Her voice is low and sweet

And she's a' the world to me

And for bonnie Annie Laurie

I'd lay me doon and dee.

Douglas! Tender and True.

traditional

Could you come back to me, Douglas ! Douglas!

In the old likeness that I knew,

I'd be so faithful, so loving, Douglas!

Douglas! Douglas! tender and true.

Never a scornful word should pain you,

I'd smile as sweet as the angels do,

Sweet as your smile on me shone ever,

Douglas! Douglas! tender and true;

Douglas! Douglas! tender and true.

Oh! to think of the hours that are not,

My eyes were blinded, your words were few;

Do you know the truth now up in heaven?

Douglas! Douglas! tender and true;

Douglas! Douglas! tender and true.

I was not half worthy of you, Douglas,

I was not worthy of the like of you;

Now all men beside are to me like shadows,

I love you, Douglas I tender and true;

I love you, Douglas 1 tender and true.

Stretch forth your band to me, Douglas! Douglas!

Drop forgiveness from heaven like dew.

As I lay my heart to thy dead heart, Douglas!

Douglas I Douglas! Douglas! tender and true.

Whispering Hope.

traditional

Soft as the voice of an angel

Breathing a lesson unheard,

Hope with a gentle persuasion,

Whispers her comforting word;

Wait till the darkness is over,

Wait till the tempest is done,

Hope for the sunshine to-morrow,

After the shower is gone.

Chorus.

Whispering hope, oh, how welcome thy voice,

Making my heart in its sorrow rejoice;

Welcome thy voice, oh, how welcome thy voice

Making my heart in its sorrow rejoice.

If in the dusk of the twilight,

Dim be the region afar,

Will not the deepening darkness

Brighten the glimmering star?

Then when the night is upon us,

Why should the heart sink away?

When the dark midnight is over,

Watch for the breaking of day -Chorus.

Sweet Evalina

traditional

Way down in a meadow where the lily first blows,

where the winds from the mountain ne'er ruffles the rose;

Lives fond Evalina, the sweet little dove,

The pride of the valley, the girl that I love.

     Sweet Evalina, dear Evalina,

     My love for you will never, never die;

     Dear Evalina, sweet Evalina,

     My love for thee shall never, never die.

She is fair as a rose, like the lamb she is meek,

and she never was known to put paint on her cheek;

In the most graceful curls hangs her raven black hair,

and she never requires perfumery there.

Three years have gone by and I've not got a dollar,

Evalina still lives in the green grassy holler;

Although I am fated to marry her never,

I'll love her for sure, forever and ever.

Evalina and I, one fine evening in June,

Took a walk all alone by the light of the moon;

The planets all shone, for the heavens were clear,

And I felt round the heart, oh, most mighty queer.

Old Grimes Is Dead.

Lyrics by Albert Gorton Greene

Old Grimes is dead-that good old man-

We ne'er shall see him more;

He used to wear a long black coat

All huttoned down before.

His heart was open as the day,

His feelings were all true;

His hair was some inclined to gray.

He wore it in a queue.

Kind words he ever had for all.

He knew no base designs;

His eyes were dark and rather small.

His nose was aqualine.

Unharmed, the sin which earth pollutes,

He passed securely o'er;

And never wore a pair of boots.

For thirty years or more.

He modest merit sought to find

And pay it its deserts;

He had no malice in his mind.

No ruffles on his shirt.

His knowledge hid from public gaze

He did not bring to view-

Nor make a noise town-meeting days.

As many people do.

Thus undisturbed by anxious cares.

His peaceful moments ran;

And everybody said he was

A fine old gentleman.

Old Black Joe

Stephen Foster

Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay,
Gone are my friends from the cotton fields away,
Gone from the earth to a better land I know,
I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe".

Chorus
I’m coming, I’m coming, for my head is bending low:
I hear those gentle voices calling, "Old Black Joe".

Why do I weep when my heart should feel no pain
Why do I sigh that my friends come not again,
Grieving for forms now departed long ago.
I hear their gentle voices calling “Old Black Joe”.
Chorus

Where are the hearts once so happy and so free?
The children so dear that I held upon my knee,
Gone to the shore where my soul has longed to go.
I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe".
Chorus

The Harp That Once Through Tara's Halls

traditional

The harp that once through Tara's halls

The soul of music shed,

Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls,

As if that soul were fled

So sleeps the pride of former days,

So glory's thrill is o'er;           

And hearts that once beat high for praise,

Now feel that pulse no more.

No more to chiefs and ladies bright,
The harp of Tara swells
The chord, alone, that breaks at night,
Its tale of ruin tells.
Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes,
The only throb she gives
Is when some heart indignant breaks,
To show that still she lives.

PADDY DUFFY'S CART.

Written and sung by Edward Harrigan.

Copyright, 1884, by Wm. A. Pond & Co.

The many happy evenings I spent when but a lad

On Paddy Duffy's lumber cart, quite safe away from dad;

It stood down on the corner near the old lamp-light.

You should see the congregation There on every Summer's night:

There was Tommy Dobson, now a Senator,

Billy Flynn. Johnny Glynn, they were killed in war;

All merry, boyish comrades recollections bring,

Seated then in Duffy's cart on Summer nights to sing.

Chorus.

Twinkling stars are laughing, love, laughing on you and me.

While your bright eyes look in mine, peeping stars they seem to be.

We'd gather in the evening, all honest working boys.

And sit on Paddy Duffy's cart-no one marred our joys;

All seated in the moonlight, laughing 'mid its rays.

I love to talk of old New York And my boyish days

There was Henry Gleason, now a millionaire.

Curly Bob, Whitey Rob, they're living on the air;

All merry, boyish comrades recollections bring.

Seated then in Duffy's cart on Summer nights to sing.

Chorus.

Leetle Fraud, (she) chews terbacker! Leetle Fraud, (she) vat's der matter?

Vas der pootiest leetle vaiter gal of all.

Leetle Fraud, (she) dunner vater! Leetle Fraud, (she) dunner vater!

Vas der pootieet little Deitcher gal of all.'

A merry little maiden, nobby, neat and coy.

Smiling up at Duffy's cart upon her sweetheart boy;

It made a jealous feeling, a quiet bit of chaff,

All in play it died away, and ended in a laugh.

There was Larry Thompson, he was a chum of mine;

Sandy Green and Lemy Freen died in forty-nine;

All merry, boyish comrades recollections bring.

Seated then in Duffy's cart on Summer's nights to sing.--Chorus