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-knocking at the door:—
  Then my old Kentucky...