Από την Κρήτη εθελοντής στον Αμερικανικό Στρατό., item 85

• November 1, 2018 08:13:35 Zafiro Marti

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  In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across

        the sea,

  With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you

        and me;

  As He died to make men holy, let us die to make

       men free,

     While God is marching on.

  
  

            MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME

  1 The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home,

         'Tis summer, the darkies are gay;

     The corn-top's ripe and the meadow’s in the bloom,

          While the birds make music all the day.

     The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,

          All merry, all happy and bright;

     By'm-by hard times comes a-knocking at the door,

         Then my old Kentucky home, good-night!

  
  

     Weep no more, my lady! O weep no more today!

     We wll sing one song for the old Kentucky home,

     For the old Kentucky home, far away.

  
  

  2 They hunt no more for the possum and the coon,

         On the meadow, the hill and the shore;

     They sing no more by the glimmer of the moon,

         On the bench by the old cabin door.

     The day goes by like a shadow o’er the heart,

         With sorrow where all was delight;

     The time has come when the darkies have to part,

         Then my old Kentucky home, good-night!

  
  

  3 The head must bow and the back will have to bend,

         Wherever the darkey may go;

     A few more tiays and the trouble all will end,

         In the field where the sugar-canes grow;

     A few more days for to tote the weary load,—

         No matter, 'twill never be light;

     A few more days till we totter on the road,

         Then my old Kentucky home, good-night!

  
  

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