Folks is talkin’ ‘bout de money, ’… All de time de season 's changin’… An’ dey 's wond’rin’ 'bout de meta… While de price o’ coal is risin’ a… Some folks says dat gold ’s de onl…

I have no fancy for that ancient c… That makes us masters of our desti… And not our lives, to hold or give… As will directs; I cannot, will n… That men, the subtle worms, who pl…

De da’kest hour, dey allus say, Is des’ befo’ de dawn, But it’s moughty ha’d a—waitin’ W’ere de night goes frownin’ on; An’ it’s moughty ha’d a—hopin’

HAIN’T you see my Mandy Lou, Is it true? Whaih you been f’om day to day, Whaih, I say? Dat you say you nevah seen

I KNOW my love is true, And oh the day is fair. The sky is dear and blue, The flowers are rich of hue, The air I breathe is rare,

DE sun hit shine an’ de win’ hit… Ol’ Brer Rabbit be a—layin’ low, He know dat de wintah time a—comin… De huntah man he walk an’ wait, He walk right by Brer Rabbit’s ga…

MY heart to thy heart, My hand to thine; My lips to thy lips, Kisses are wine Brewed for the lover in sunshine a…

In the east the morning comes, Hear the rollin’ of the drums On the hill. But the heart that beat as they be… In the battle’s raging day heat

THE rain streams down like harp—s… The wind, that world—old harpist,… And ever as he sings his low refra… He plays upon the harp—strings of…

A KNOCK is at her door, but she… Strange dews have washed the paint… She does not rise, but, ah, this f… And knows that he will find her al… So opens he the door, and with sof…

I’VE always been a faithful man An’ tried to live for duty, But the stringent mode of life Has somewhat lost its beauty. The story of the generous bread

(From a Westerner’s Point of Vie… No matter what you call it, Whether genius, or art, He sings the simple songs that com… The closest to your heart.

Our good knight, Ted, girds his b… (And he wields it well, I ween); He 's on his steed, and away has g… To the fight for king and queen. What tho’ no edge the broadsword h…

Tek a cool night, good an’ cleah, Skiff o’ snow upon de groun’; Jes’ 'bout fall—time o’ de yeah W’en de leaves is dry an brown; Tek a dog an’ tek a axe,

'Tis fine to play In the fragrant hay, And romp on the golden load; To ride old Jack To the barn and back,