This song that I sing-- It is not of a spring, Nor yet of a silvery stream-- But of a vision bright Which came last night In the garb of a blissful dream-- When I thought, as I lay,...
In the attic, unused, there they put it away; The old oaken frame has begun to decay; What iron's about it is eaten with rust, And upon and around it are cobwebs and dust;...
O what memories sweet entwine Around each word and faded line! Yellow and dim with the touch of years, And soiled with the marks of tears-- A sacred treasure of the heart...
I'm just in my glory when the cat I can tease, Or I'm hunting for bird nests up in the trees, And I wear out my pants in the seat and the knees; I'm the pride of my daddy, my mammy's own joy--...
The years have passed in ceaseless round Since first they laid her here to rest In dreamless sleep beneath the silent mound, With folded hands upon her gentle breast.
In reel, in waltz, in lancer's maze, She moved with pretty air of grace, And all the ball-room's brilliant blaze Seemed borrowed brightness from her face! O, winsome maid, demure and sweet!...
There's the rose and the lily, the daisy and pink, And many rare flowers which others may think Are the fairest and best, the sweetest that blow, With delicious perfume, and colors that glow--...
O others may boast of their pleasures galore-- The miser with rapture may count o'er his store, And some may imagine great happiness there In the gay shining beam of Society's glare;...
The sun has sunk in the crimson west, And "around the languid eyes of day" The Twilight's dreamy shadows rest And light and shade alternate play; The winds are hushed, nor leaf nor flower...
Some sing of the lily, some sing of the rose, Some sing of each flower in beauty that blows; But sing me a song that shall render its meed To the fragrance and aroma found in a weed,...
Where the Cumberland flows on its way to the South, From its source in the hills half-way to its mouth-- When Autumn has come and tempered the rays Of the hot blazing sun with its soft mellow haze,...
To Chattanooga's vale, where flows the winding Tennessee, And rugged Lookout sentinels heroic dust of sixty-three-- Where Chickamauga's gory field re-echoed to the cannon's roar,...
White-shrouded, latest-born of all the year, In thy cold hands no bud or floweret bearing, Thou comest now to wail above the bier Of thy dead sisters--on thy bosom wearing...
Rock-sentineled, romantic stream! Thy waters flow with silvery gleam Where glassy pools and visions greet Embosomed in some cool retreat; Then rippling o'er a pebbly bed,...
You may boast about the landscapes fair so far across the sea Of castled Rhine, and southern France, and favored Italy-- But have you seen, when Springtime flings the scented blossoms down,...
The sweetest dreams, it seems to me, that we can ever know, Are those the fancy brings to us of days of long-ago, When rainbow-tinted pictures all are like a mirage flung...
Give me the patches on my pants, the freckles on my face-- The happy heart where cankering care had never found a place-- And let my bare feet walk again that dirt road down the hill...