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.
Now Farmer Jones was noted for fast horses on his place, And also as the father of a son with freckled face, And hair so red it looked as if it had been dyed in blood,...
Sweet Memory! thou faculty divine-- Triumphant o'er the cruel hand of Time! On thy tablets we may trace The lines his fingers ne'er efface, And take with us till latest day...
I passed her on the crowded street-- This winsome maid, demure and sweet-- And envious saw the silken tresses That seemed to give her cheeks caresses, And rapture felt that thrilled me through...
The Springtime am a-comin', and the dogwood soon will bloom, With the blossoms ten times thicker than the green leaves are in June, And if yer want some pleasure that I nominate divine,...
It led adown the sloping hill, and through the valley wound, And where the blooming clover shed its fragrance all around, And then between the maple trees, across the little brook,...
Let tipplers all boast of the pleasure divine That is found in old whisky, in beer and in wine-- But what are all those to a feller who knows Where the "Medical Spring" in its purity flows,...
I walked within the silent city of the dead, Which then with Autumn leaves was carpeted, And where the faded flower and withered wreath Bespoke the love for those who slept beneath,...