All round de little farm I wandered, When I was young, Den many happy days I squandered, Many were de songs I sung. When I was playing wid my brudder, Happy was I, OhI take me to my kind old mudder, Dere let me live and die.—Cho. One little hut among de bushes, One dat I love, Still sadly to my mem'ry rushes, No matter where I rove. When will I see the bees a-humming, All 'round de comb? When will I hear the banjo tumming, Down in my good old home?—Cho.
There's a Sweet Land of Rest. (Pat's Pick, page 30.)
4 Flats
There's a sweet land of rest Where the songs of the blest Ever float on the balmy air; If to Jesus we yield, And our pardon is sealed We shall join in that song up there. Repbain—Hallelujah we sing to the Lord our King; Hallelujah! the song we'll share; Hallelujah again, with a loud Amen! For the rest that remains up there!
