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Shine upon my brow to-day; Life is fading fast away. Since I kissed you, mine alone, alone, You have never older grown, Since I kiss'd you mine alone, You have never older grown! So early in de morning, Before de break of day. Repeat three times 2 When I was young I used to wait, On Massa's table lay de plate, Pass de bottle when him dry, Brush away de blue-tail' d fly.

Of all de massas he war best ; I nebbex see de like since I was born, Miss" him now he's dead and gone. One parting kiss I give thee;' And. Farewell, farewell, my own true love, Farewell, farewell, my own true love. That with my last faint sighing. I'll whisper soft while dying. Solomon Levi, Levi, tra la la la! Poor Sheeny Levi, tra lalalalalalala- lala! My name is Solomon Levi, At my store on Chatham Street, That's where you'll buy your coats and vests, And everything that's neat, Second-handed Ulsterettes, And everything else that's fine, For all the boys they trade with me, At a hundred and forty-nine.

Turn -A. Its humble cot will shelter me From ev'ry care and pain, And life be sweet as sweet can be, When I am home again. I'll wander back, yes, back again, yes, back again, Where childhood's home, my child- hood's home may be; For memory in sweet refrain, in sweet refrain, Sings still its praise to me, its praise to me.

No more my wayward feet shall roam Life's troubled pathway o'er, But in the life and love of home, I'll rest me evermore. In all sorts of weather, Be it wet or be it dry, I am bound to get my livelihood, Or lay me down and die. Come join my humble ditty, From Tippe'ry town I steer, Like every honest fellow, I drinks my lager beer. Like every jolly fellow, I takes my whiskey clear, I'm a rambling rake of poverty, And the son of a G-ambolier. The son of a, son of a, son of a, son of a, son of a G-ambolier, Twice Like every jolly fellow, I takes my whiskey clear; I'm a rambling rake of poverty, and the son of a Gambolier.

But now I'm old, my coat is torn, And poverty holds me fast, And every girl turns up her nose As I go wandering past. Which ev'ry one shunned but I. Twice 2 Moon of the summer night, Far down yon western steeps, Sink, sink in silver light; She sleeps, my lady sleeps. Down the dim river We float on forever, Speak not, ah, breathe not, There's peace on the deep. Speak not, ah, breathe not, There's peace on the deep. I O Genevieve, I'd give the world To live again the lovely past : The rose of youth was dew-impearled, But now it withers in the blast.

I see thy face in every dream, My waking thoughts are full of thee. Thy glance is in the starry beam That falls along the summer sea. O Genevieve, sweet Genevieve I The days may come, the days may go, But still the hands of memory weave The blissful dreams of long ago. My heart shall never, never rove, Thou art my only guiding star. For me the past has no regret, Whate'er the years may bring to me, I bless the hour when first we met, The hour that gave me love and thee.

Silver sails all out of the west, Under the silver moon, Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep, Tune B. Nine little niggers crying at his fate, One cried himself away, and then there were eight. One little, two little, three little, four little, five little nigger hoys, Six little, seven little, eight little, nine little, ten little nigger boys.

One little, two little, three little, four little, five little niggers more; Six little, seven little, eight little, nine little, ten little niggers more. Many are the hearts that are weary to-night, Wishing for the war to cease; Many are the hearts looking for the light To see the dawn of peace. Tenting to-night, tenting to-night, Tenting on the old camp, ground. Twice He dwells in merry Scotland, where the blue bells sweetly smell, And oh! Repeat last two lines 2 Oh where, and oh where is your Hieland laddie gane? Twice He's gane to fight for George, our king, and left us all alane ; For noble and brave is my loyal Hie- land man.

Repeat last two lines 3 Oh, what, lassie, what if your Hieland lad be slain? Twice Oh, no! Twice Whene'er the war is o'er, he'll return to me with fame, And I'll plait a wreath of flowers for my lovely Hieland man. The Festal day has come, Hurrah! The Festal day has come! Up-see, up-see, tra lalala, Upsee, up- see tra lalala! Sixteenth Century. Our leaders march with fusees, and we with hand-grenades: We throw them from the glacis about the enemies' ears, Sing tow row row row row row, the British Grenadiers.

Singing tra la la la la la la la la! Singing tra la la la la la la! Singing tra la la la la la! Tra la la la, Tra la la la, tra la la la la la. And the snapper caught his paw. The polly-wog died a-laughing, To see him wag his jaw. They're spooning in the dead of night, But where's the harm in that? Written Dey makes dem. Oh where, oh where is my little dog gone? Oh where, oh where can he be? Mit his ears cut short and his tail cut long, Oh where, oh where is he? And for sure I have growled ever since.


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Eighteenth Century. I seek for one as fair and gay, But find none to remind me How blest the hours pass'd away With the girl I left behind me. Whene'er my steps return that way, Still faithful shall she find me, And never more again I'll stray From the girl I've left behind me. Air, " Molly Asthore. 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.

Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes The only throb she gives Is when some heart, indignant, breaks, To show that still she lives. Mem'ry is the only friend That grief can call its own. Three times. To long departed years extend Its visions with them flown ; for Tune B. And where is your charming young daughter to-day? In her heavenly home is my daughter so dear. I'm sure. For thee I have loved since many a year. I He feels his cash to know his pence, And finds he has but just six cents. The cheapest viand of them all Is "Twelve and a half cents for fwo fish-balls.

Who would have bread with his fish-ball, Must get it first, or not at all. When first I saw sweet Peggy, 'Twas on a market day, A low-backed car she drove, and sat Upon a truss of hay. But when the hay was blooming grass, And decked with flowers of spring, No flower was there that could com- pare With the blooming girl I sing, As she sat in her low-backed car, The man at the turn-pike bar, Never asked for the toll, but just rubbed his old poll, And looked after the low-backed car.

While she among her poultry sits, Just like a turtle-dove, Well worth the cage, I do engage, Of the blooming god of love! While she sits in her low-backed car, The lovers come near and far, And envy the chicken that Peggy is pickin', As she sits in the low-backed car. Arranged by JAS. Heave away, heigho I heigno! Heave away, heigho! L "Where are you going, my pretty maid?

Vary each chorus by repeat- ing last two lines of previous stanza. Here may it wave, our boast, our pride, And joined in love together, The Thistle, Shamrock, Rose entwine. The Maple Leaf forever! The Maple Leaf, our emblem dear, the Maple Leaf forever! God save our King and Heaven bless the Maple Leaf forever! And those dear rights which they maintained, We swear to yield them never! Our watchword evermore shall be, The Maple Leaf forever! And may those ties of love be ours Which discord cannot sever, And nourish green o'er freedom's home, The Maple Leaf forever!

God bless old Scotland evermore, And Ireland's emerald isle! Then swell the song, both loud and long, Till rocks and forest quiver, God save our king and heaven bless The Maple Leaf forever! Hark, hark, what myriads bid you rise! Your children, wives and grandsires hoary: Behold their tears and hear their cries!

Behold their tears and hear their cries! Shall hateful tyrants, mischief breed- ing, With hireling hosts, a ruffian band, Affright and desolate the land, While peace and liberty lie bleeding! To arms, to arms, ye brave, Th' avenging sword unsheathe!

March on, march on, all hearts re- solved, On victory or death. Like beasts of burden would they load us Like gods would bid their slaves adore But man is man and who is more? Then shall they longer lash and goad us? Can dungeons, bolts and bars con- fine thee, Or whips thy noble spirit tame?

Too long the world has wept, be- wailing That falsehood's dagger tyrants wield, But freedom is our sword and shield, And all their arts are unavailing. Oh, the ocean waves may roll, And the stormy winds may blow, While we poor sailors go skipping to the tops, And the land lubbers lie down be- low, below, below, And the land lubbers lie down be- low.

Air " Moreen. His father's sword he hath girded on, And his wild harp slung behind him. One sword at least thy rights shall guard, One faithful harp shall praise thee. Words by S. The wide-spreading pond, the mill that stood by it, The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell; The cot of my father, the dairy house nigh it, And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well.

The old oaken bucket, the iron bound bucket, The moss covered bucket that hung in the well. How ardent I seized it with hands that were glowing, And quick to the white pebbled bottom it fell; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well. I remember of my years I had num- bered almost seven, And the old red cradle stood against the wall; I was youngest of the five, and two were gone to heav'n, But the old red cradle rocked us all.

Rocking, rocking, gently rocking, In time with the tick of the clock on the wall; One by one the seconds marking, That old red cradle rocked us all. And if e'er there came a day when my cheeks were flushed and hot. When I did not mind my porridge or my play, I would clamber up its side, and the pain would be forgot, When the old red cradle rocked away.

By my mother it was rocked, when the evening meal was laid, And again I seem to see her as she smiled : When the rest were all in bed, 'twas then she knelt, and prayed By the old red cradle and her child. Heaven grant again we may in each other's arms be locked, Where no bitter tears of parting ever fall, God forbid that one be lost that the old red cradle rocked, For that dear old cradle rocked us all. Tun A Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sea.

It can make a tiff pass off with a whiff, And the joys of contentment bor- row, And the worst wars cease in a pipe of peace, Which soothes the nerves of sorrow. Then hurrah for the pipe so rich and ripe, With its amber mouth so yellow, And the curling smoke that doth evoke A fragrance mild and mellow. Yet six feet space will end their race, And prove their sciences trashes, While Time with a wipe will break their pipe, And Death knock out the ashes.

Of the war-steed's bound, and the clarion's sound, And the cannon's thundering rattle; Yet there's more delight with a friend at night, And a song and a pipe also, Than in balls, and bombs, and fifes and drums, And military show. For 'tis my delight of a shiny night, In the season of the year 1 Twice 2 As me and my companions Were setting of a snare, 'Twas then we spied the game keeper For him we didn't care; For we can wrestle and fight, mv boys, Jump over anywhere.

Our soldiers were brave and our courtiers were good. Oh, the Roast Beef of Old England! And oh, for old England's Roast Beef! Say, darling, say, when I'm far away, Sometimes you may think of me, dear; Bright sunny days will soon fade away, Remember what I say, and be true, dear. Words arranged by W. I played on the Spanish guitar, ching, ching; I used to make love to the ladies, I think of them still from afar, ching, ching. Ring ching ching, ring ching ching, Ring out ye bells, Oh, ring out ye bells, oh, ring out ye bells, Ring ching ching, ring ching ching, Ring out ye bells, As I play on my Spanish guitar.

And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. Oh, say, does that star-spangled ban- ner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? Wrap me up iu my tarpaulin Jacket, jacket, And say a poor buffer lies low, lies low, And six stalwart Lancers shall carry me, carry me, With steps solemn, mournful and slow. O, Billy Magee, Magar! There were three crows sat on a tree, And they were black as black could be, Cho. And they all flapped their wings and cried, Caw, Caw, Caw!

Twice 2 Said one old crow unto his mate, Cho. We'll perch ourselves on his back- bone, And pick his eyes out one by one. A right little, tight little island! All round the globe, none can be found So happy as this little island. Repeat last four lines of each verse. Oh, what a snug little island! They'd all have a touch at the island, Some were shot dead some of them fled, And some stay'd to live on the island. I never liked my land; It would be much more handy to leave this Normandy, And live on yon beautiful island.

Poor Harold, the King of the island, He lost both his life and his island ; That's very true what could he dot Like a Briton he died for his island. They couldn't do less than tuck up Queen Bess, And take their full swing in the island. Oh, 'tis a wonderful island! All of 'em long for the island. Hold a bit there, let 'em take fire and air, But we'll have the sea, and the island. We'd fight for our right to the island, We'd give them enough of th island ; I-nvaders should just bite at the dust, But not a bit more of the island. Music by JAS. For be it early morning, Or be it late at night, Cheerily ring our footsteps, Right, left, right!

For be it early morning, Or be it late at night, Cheerily ring our footsteps, Eight, left, right. And hurriedly awaking From his nest amid the spray, Cheerily now the blackbird Whistling greets the day. Oh, the men of the north are stal- wart, And the woodland lasses fair, And cheerily breathes around us The bracing woodland air. And so I got preferment; To teach my flock I never missed, Kings were by God appointed, And damn'd are those who do resist, Or touch the Lord's anointed.

For in my faith and loyalty 'I never more will falter, And George my lawful King shall be. Until the times do alter. Oh, de ham-bone am sweet, and de bacon am good, And de possum-fat am bery, bery fine; But gib me, yes, gib me, oh, how I wished you would, Dal watermelon smilin' on de vine. But bless my heart, my honeys, dat truck it ain't nowheres Oh, de watermelon am de fruit for 3 When de dewdrops dey is fallin' dat melon's gwine to cool, And I guess den it will taste most awful fine, , So I's gwine to come and fetch it or else I is a fool If I leabs it dar a-smilin' on de And you'll remember, you'll remember me.

Fare thee well, for I must leave thee, Do not let the parting grieve thee, And remember tliat 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. Words by J. To the North, to the North we go!

To the North, where the pine trees grow. To the North, to the North we go,. Then it's ho! Who longs to dream the languor- ous hours, To fritter in luxurious ease His vigorous manhood's early powers 1 To the North, to the North we go! To the North, where the fresh winds blow. To the North, where the black bass grow. To the North, from the debts we owe.

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To the North, where the torrents flow. To the North, to the North, Yo ho! Use the last line of each stanza for the last line of each chorus. Words by M. Then come to the North, to the land of the pine, Come along, come along with met Then come to the North, where the days are fine, To the North, to the land of the free.

His form was of the manliest beauty His heart was kind and soft. Faithful below, Tom did his duty, And now he's gone aloft. Repeat last iin. His friends were many and true- hearted ; His Poll was kind and fair. And then he'd sing so blithe and jolly, Ah! But mirth is turned to melancholy, For Tom is gone aloft!

Thus death, who kings and tars de- spatches, In vain Tom's life hath doff'd, For though his body's under hatches, His soul is gone aloft. Words ly A. I'se getting ole and weary, And tir'd of roaming, too, So on my way to Dixie, I'll say good-bye to you. I'se trabling back He's trabling back , Yes, trabling back Yes, trabling back , I'se trabling night and day. Among the fields of cotton, The sugar cane and corn.

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So happy with old Massa, A-living in the lane. To see de. I'se trabling back again. Dat's good enough for me; I'll- hoe the corn and cotton, And, ohl so happy be; I'll hunt the coon and possum. And dance and sing and play. And when I once get back there, I'll never come away. Oh, golly! We'll dance all night till morning By the banjo's sweet refrain, And have a celebration, When I get back again. J In the prison camp 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, Though I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.

Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching, Cheer up, comrades, they will come; And beneath the glorious flag we shall breathe the air again, Of the free land in our own be- loved home. Translation by J. Thou hast this soul of mine So closely knit to thine, No other can I love Than thee alone. Though flower and hope decay, Rich we in love alway: My heart's deep love for thee Never can die. Struck by the huntsman's dart, Sinking upon thy heart, There, should' st thou weep for me, Fain would I die.

The Shattered Crystal

Parcourait en pleurant, Des pays etrangers. Je ne te verrai plus! Mon regard languissant Vers toi se portera. Through a Yankee village a youth did go, A-carrying a flag with this motto. It's blowin' gales up there on top; You'll tumble off on the other side. But still he remarked as he upward dumb 6 "Look out for the branch of the syca- more tree, Dodge rollin' stones if any you see: 1 ' Sayin' which the farmer went to bed, But the singular voice replied over- head 7 About a quarter past six the next forenoon, A man accidentally goin' up soon, Heard spoken above him as much as twice, Those very same words in a very weak voice 8 Not far, I believe, from a quarter of seven, He was slow gettin' up, the road be- in' uneven ; He found buried up in the snow and the ice, The boy and his flag with the strange device CAMP-FIRE CHORUSES.

The lamp of his life has entirely gone out; On the drear hill-side the youth was a-layin', And there was no more use for him to be a-sayin' Tune A. Et ses jolis yeux doux, doux, doux, Et ses jolis yeux doux. Repeat first four lines of first verse. Oh, vive le, vive le, vive le roi, Vive le, vive le, vive le roi, Vie le roi, vive la reine, vive la compagnie. Tune- B. Wait for the wagon, wait for the wagon, Wait for the wagon, and we'll all take a ride.

Come, listen to my story, It will relieve my heart, So jump into the wagon, And off we will start. Let us all unite in love, Trusting in the powers above. Twice Merrily now we roll, roll, roll, roll, roll, roll, Merrily now we roll, roll o'er the deep blue sea. I canna leave the auld folk now, We'd better bide a wee.

But, laddie, that's a time awa', And mither's like to dee. So, laddie, dinna urge me mair, It surely winna be. He's foremost 'mang the mony Keel lads o' coaly Tyne. Weel may the keel row, the keel row, the keel row, Weel may the keel row that my lad's in. Same tune as "The Three Crows. Hurrah, hurrah I We'll give him a hearty welcome then, Cho. Hurrah, hurrah! The men will cheer, the boys will shout, The ladies, they will all turn out, Cho. And we'll all feel gay, When Johnny comes marching home. Twice 2 The old church bell will peal with joy, To welcome home our darling boy; The village lads and lassies say With roses they will strew the way.

The laurel wreath is ready now To place upon his loyal brow. I I wandered to-day to the hill, Maggie, To watch the scene below, The creek and the creaking old mill, Maggie, As we used to long ago. The green grove is gone from the hill, Maggie, Where first the daisies sprung, The creaking old mill is still, Maggie, Since you and I were young. And now we are aged and gray, Maggie, And the trials of life nearly done, Let us sing of the days that are gone, Maggie, When you and I were young. A city so silent and lone, Maggie, Where the young and the gay and the best, In polished white mansions of stone, Maggie, Have each found a place of rest, Is built where the birds used to play, Maggie, And join in the songs that were sung ; For we sang as gaily as they, Maggie, When you and I were young.

They say we are aged and gray, Maggie, As sprays by the white breakers flung; But to me you're as fair as you were, Maggie, When you and I were young. All the birds of the air fell a-sighing and a-sobbing, When they heard of the death of poor Cock Robin. Tra la, la la la la. Repeat last line four times 2 Wha saw him die? I'll dig his grave. Tune, " Bonnie Laddie, Hieland Laddie. Fill in some name. Who's the best man in this town?

We're some soldier boys ourselves, We're some soldiers, we're some sol- diers, But the best man in this town IB Fill in name. Words and Music by J. Who's that a-calling? The flowers are sleeping on the plain and hill, Cho. Who's that calling so sweet? While the birds are resting till the golden dawn, Cho. Who's that a- calling? Is it the one we long to greet? Who's that a-calling so sweet? Oh, is it a message from far o'er the sea? Is it my darling who now speaks to me?

Will ye no come back again? Better lo'ed ye canna be. They kent your hiding in the glen, Death and exile braving. Then blow ye winds, beighol A-roving I will go, I'll stay no more on England's snore, So let the music play-ay-ay; I'm off for the morning train, I'll cross the raging main! I'm off to my love with a boxing glove, Ten thousand miles away. Yet fond of amusement, too, He played hop-scotch with the star- board watch, While the Captain he tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was appar- ently mad, For he sat on the after rai-ai-ail, And fired salutes with the Captain's boots, Tn the teeth of the booming gale.

The Captain sat on the commodore's hat, And dined in a royal way, Off toasted pigs and pickles and figs, And gunnery bread each day. And the cook was Dutch, and behaved as such, For the diet he gave the crew-ew- ew, Was a number of tons of hot cross buns, Served up with sugar and glue. And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge, And shot at the whistling bee-ee-ee, And the cinnamon bats wore water- proof hats, As they dipped in the shiny sea.

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She was chubby and square, but we didn't much care, So we cheerily put to see-ee-ee, And we left all the crew of the junk to chew On the bark of the Rugbug tree. Their bravery on land and sea by ey'ryone is told, Of their dear lives they've lost to others save. The words by Nelson signalled as he entered in the fray Are treasured by the Anglo-Saxon race, And all the nations know, when there is duty to be done, That Britishers can meet it face to face. And when your country needs you, may your heart be fond and true ; "Be British," let your one desire be, Where'er you walk in this wide world, where'er you chance to be, You are but Britain's son across the sea.

By permission of owner of copyright, P. Shuttleworth, Toronto. By permission of owners of copyright, The Frederick Harris Co. Words and Music by W. Sweet dreamland faces passing tc and fro Bring back to mem'ry days of long ago. Murmuring gently still the old re frain, ' ' Hope on, dear loved one, we shal meet again.

But all I loved are gone, and I alone in life To wait, and wait, and wait till Death shall end the strife ; Until once more I join the hearts thai loved me best, Where the wicked cease from troubl- ing and the weary are at rest. King George! Sailor Monarch, Son of Ocean, From ev'ry heart rings a cry of deep devotion ; Bearer of the great name your an- cestors bore, May you- uphold it, as kings have done before!

God protect our Sailor King, peace ' he found, peace may he bring! Long may he rule us, with fervent hearts we sing. Welcome, Sailor King! Peace and good-will may you to - Britain bring; With all the world chains of friend- ship forge, With heart and voice the Empire prays, " God bless King George!

God protect our Sailor King, peace he found, peace may he bring; Long may he rule us, with fervent hearts we sing. We've won vict'ry, we've won fame,! We're good losers too: Win or lose, it's all the same; Old Club, we're loyal to you. Then the boys come through wjth a win or two, For the good old T.

Summer time both night and day You will hear our song. Paddling, sailing, all the time, We're a happy crew. Willing always, rain or shine, To work, old Club, for you. Copyright, printed by permission. He got a two-months furlough, An' he started on his way, His Irish eyes a-dancin'. For oh I I know sweet Molly O. Then on an Irish jauntin' car Beside her bold gossoon, She learned to sing this chorus By the risin' o' the moon: Copyright. Printed by permission of Jerome H. Printed by permission of Leo. Feist, Inc. When the winds are sobbing faintly, With a gentle, unknown woe, Will you think of me, and love me, As you did once long ago?

Though I passed away in silence, Left you lonely, set you free. For my heart was crushed with long- ing, What had been could never be. It was best to leave you thus, dear, Best for you and best for me. Sandman am a comin' to dis little coon of mine, Sleep, Kentucky Babel Silvlry moon am shinin' in de heavens up above, Bob-o-link am pinin' fo' his little lady love, You is mighty lucky, Babe of old Kentucky, Close you' eyes in sleep. Fly away, fly away, Kentucky Babe, fly away to rest; Fly away, Lay yo' kinky, woolly head on yo' mammy's breast.

Urn I urn! By permission of White-Smith Music Co. Music by T. Her brow is fair as winter's snow, Her cheeks wi' modest roses blow, And dove-like glances sweetly flow Frae out the e'en o' Mary. Sae kind, kind and gentle is she, Kind is my Mary, The tender blossom oh the tree Cannot compare wi' Mary. Edinburgh, from whom the song with piano accompaniment may be had, postpaid, for Is. English version by HON. True patriot-love in all thy sons com- mand.

O Canada! Glorious and free! We stand on guard, we stand on guard for thee! We stand on guard for thee! Where pines and maples grow, Great prairies spread and lordly rivers flow; How dear to us thy broad domain, From East to Western Sea! Thou land of hope for all who toil! Thou True North, strong and free! Printed by permission. Said he, " Dearie, don't be weary, You were always bright a-nd cheery, But a tear, dear, dims your eye. It is fifty years to-day since we were wed.


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The birds were sweetly singing, And the same old bells were ringing. As they pass'd the quaint old church where they were wed. And that night when stars were gleaming, The old' couple lay a-dreaming, Dreaming of the words he said. All the nice girls love a sailor, All the nice girls love a tar; For there's something about a sailor Well, you know what sailors are I Bright and breezy, free and easy, He's the ladies' pride and joy; Falls in love with Kate and Jane, Then he's off to sea again, Ship ahoy! And it's just the same in love or war. Words by R.

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Turn night-time into daytime, With the sunlight of good cheer! For it's always fair weather When good fellows get together, With a stein on the table And a good song ringing clear. Repeat last four lines. And that God is not censorious When His children have their fling ; And life slips its tether When good fellows get together, With a stein on the table In the fellowship of spring. Printed by permis- sion. University of Toronto Song. More Than Broken Hanging in the Balance Keeping Time Missing Canyon's Edge Bed of Strangers A World Without Today Worshipping You Portrait of Me Wherever Love Would Go Tags alternative pop rock rock alternative rock pop pop rock Columbus.

Snapshots of the Shattered Soul. The show, to run 52 weeks a year, would be sponsored locally by Mathes. Most were in the "freight train" style and they continued in a steady stream. He began experimenting musically in pulling away from the "freight train" sound. However, his success continued. They were among the first to know that the next night Johnson would announce his decision not to seek re-election.

An LP of the performance appeared in It was easy and profitable for all concerned. The other singers got the money from me, so they always got their money. It featured track recording equipment and a then-new Moog synthesizer. The media began referring to Bakersfield as "Buckersfield," a term Buck himself never used. Capitol merely packaged and released the recordings. No country singer at that time had a similar deal. Among the other aspiring singers Buck discovered were longhaired twin brothers Jim and John Hager, who were also signed to Capitol. Buck played there October 11 and 12, Many country singers, hostile to the music and youth of the time, would have refused such an engagement.

Buck would not. Conversely, his music, along with that of Johnny Cash and Merle Haggard despite his anti-hippie hit "Okie From Muskogee" were admired by young people and rock musicians. Rolling Stone , the San Francisco-based rock music publication that had run a story on Merle Haggard a year earlier, ran a lengthy piece on California country music in their June 28, issue. Written by John Grissim Jr. Buck, however, was the main focus.

Eventually, aside from Buddy Alan, Susan Raye, the Haggers, and a few others, Buck abandoned his efforts to develop new talent. Without naming names, he explains that many lacked the all- powerful drive to succeed — the drive of, say, a Buck Owens. Buck explains his views thusly: "Lady Limelight is a jealous lady. She wants all of your attention. So you better do it while you can. I wanted it for these people a hell of a lot worse than they wanted it. Buck taped the pilot in and CBS picked it up as a summer replacement for The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour , canceled due to its controversial anti-war humor during the Vietnam years.

The show premiered Sunday, June 15, Hee Haw was so successful during the summer that CBS slotted it into the fall schedule. The Buckaroos served as the house band, and Buck was suddenly getting national exposure on a weekly basis. When these instruments were seen on Hee Haw , guitar manufacturers began making offers to him to market a guitar in those colors.

He knew that Sears would market them but had no idea they would sell as well as they did —until the first royalty check came. During this time, Buck was also filming what may be the first country music videos ever done. Three were reissues of earlier albums, along with a new gospel album, a live album, three new Buck studio albums, and a Christmas LP.

One promotion man complained to the label that they were releasing more Buck product than he could ever promote. In , Buck signed his final four-year contract with Capitol. Following lengthy negotiations, the label gave him something few artists ever received: Ownership of all his Capitol recordings at the end of the contract. He would give the label five years to sell off his albums before he would take ownership in Such business acumen was routine for Buck and still a rarity at the time among country singers.

He thinks all the time and he thinks ahead. Buck continued to diversify musically. It disturbed Ken Nelson. Thinking back, Buck recalls these musical departures quite differently : "I got to realizing that I wanted to record, I wanted to experiment. CBS dropped Hee Haw in as the network ended a decade of rural oriented programming, but in syndication the show was more successful that it had ever been with CBS.

Through and he toured, taped Hee Haw twice a year and worked in his studio. He still owns all Ranch Shows. It had been a fantastic run — a decade of unprecedented success. Then one summer morning, Buck Owens suffered a sudden, tragic blow from which it took him years to recover. He informed him that Don Rich had been killed earlier that evening when his motorcycle struck a highway divider. He was heading from Bakersfield to Morro Bay on his bike when the accident occurred.

Buck was shattered. The alter-ego, the musical son who had blossomed under his wing, whom he depended on both in the studio and onstage, was suddenly gone. He was as much a part of the music as I was. He seemed able to read my mind. There was never anything like that happened to me before or since. I finally got at peace with that. And in , Buck was about to depart Capitol after 18 years.

In Andy Wickham of Warner Bros. Records, a long time Buck Owens fan, signed him to Warners. The fire was gone and his fans knew it. Neither his Warner singles nor albums were up to his old standards proven by their low chart positions. Buck was philosophical about his lack of success at Warners. It never did pick up. A decade before, Buck Owens had been the top country singer in the nation.

Now, with his record sales dragging, Hee Haw was his major outlet. And people began to forget the dynamic honky-tonk singer Buck Owens had been. They saw him as an over all-clad comic holding a red, white and blue guitar, standing in a fake cornfield singing "Phfft! You Were Gone" with guest after guest.

Then in his late forties, his artistic frustration was growing. It was time to let go and get on with living. He and Warners mutually agreed to end his contract. For the first time in 23 years, Buck Owens was no longer recording. He reordered his priorities over the next few years. I think quintessentially, television is the bare bones of the removal of all mystique.

A virtual choir 2,000 voices strong - Eric Whitacre

I kinda just prostituted myself for their money. You Were Gone. Buck finally left Hee Haw in It continued, with Roy Clark hosting. I went back a couple of years ago and did their 20th anniversary show. But the longer I stayed on Hee Haw , the worse things got for me musically. There was no reason to expect any more music from Buck Owens. The same year he cut back his activities, , saw the hit film Urban Cowboy making country music trendy.

In Nashville, producers hustled to create easy-listening records smothered in strings to attract pop-record buyers. It seemed that the simpler days of Nudie suits and freight train songs were gone forever. Like other California artists, Buck had many friends in Nashville but never considered moving there even at his peak. It seemed they never wanted to give the West Coast musicians the credit we deserved.

A lot of things that came out of the West Coast — not necessarily by me, but by country people here — Nashville took and applied. I was at odds with them right from the beginning; Merle came along and he was at odds with them. They wanted to control what we did on the West Coast, I felt. Bob Wills did what the hell he thought, Little Richard did what he thought, and those were my big influences. I disliked the fact that musicians who had their own bands could not record with their bands.

Ken Nelson had retired long ago. The single version of "Hot Dog" only made it to 46 on the charts. Nonetheless, Buck began doing interviews and performing with a reconstituted Buckaroos. At the presentation, his appeal to rockers of two generations reared its head again. Buck was both pleased and moved. And I had no idea how they felt at that time.