Negro Song THE SUN shines bright on our old Kentucky home; ’T is summer, the darkeys 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, all bright; By’m by hard times comes a knockin’ at the door,— Then, my old Kentucky home, good night! CHORUS Weep no more, my lady; O, weep no more to-day! We ’ll sing one song for the old Kentucky home, For our old Kentucky home far away. 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 the shadow o’er the heart, With sorrow where all was delight; The time has come, when the darkeys have to part, Then, my old Kentucky home, good night! Weep no more, my lady, etc. The head must bow, and the back will have to bend, Wherever the darkey may go; A few more days, and the troubles all will end, In the field where the sugar-canes grow; A few more days to tote the weary load, No matter, it will never be light; A few more days till we totter on the road, Then, my old Kentucky home, good night! Weep no more, my lady; O, weep no more to-day! We ’ll sing one song for the old Kentucky home, For our old Kentucky home far away.
My Old Kentucky Home
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Way down upon de Swanee Ribber, Far, far away, Dere ’s wha my heart is turning ebber, Dere ’s wha de old folks stay. All up and down de whole creation Sadly I roam, Still longing for de old plantation, And for de old folks at home. All de world am sad and dreary, Ebery where I...
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Negro Song THE SUN shines bright on our old Kentucky home; ’T is summer, the darkeys 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, all bright; By’m by hard times...
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Round de meadows am a-ringing De darkeys’ mournful song, While de mocking-bird am singing, Happy as de day am long. Where de ivy am a-creeping, O’er de grassy mound, Dere old massa am a-sleeping, Sleeping in de cold, cold ground. Down in de corn-field Hear dat mournful sound...
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Way down upon de Swanee Ribber, Far, far away, Dere ’s wha my heart is turning ebber, Dere ’s wha de old folks stay. All up and down de whole creation Sadly I roam, Still longing for de old plantation, And for de old folks at home. All de world am sad and dreary, Eberywhere I...
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The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home; ’T is summer, the darkeys 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-’n’-by hard times comes a-...