Scotland's Burning.
Round in four parts. (Pat's Pick, page 79; Franklin Square No. 2 p. 137.)
Scotland's burning, Scotland's burning.
Look out ! Look out!
Fire! fire! fire! fire!
Pour on water, pour on water
Old Black Joe.[1]
(Pat's Pick, page 5.)
Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay;
Gone are my friends from the cotton-fields away;
Gone from the earth to a better land, I know,
I hear their gentle voices calling, "Old Black Joe."
Chorus—
I'm coming, I'm coming,
For my head is bending low;
I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe."
Why do I weep when my heart should feel no pain?
Why do I sigh that my friends come not again,
Grieving for forms now departed long ago?
I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe."
Chorus—I'm coming, I'm coming, etc.
- ↑ [Published by permission of Wm. A. Pond & Co., owners of the copyright.]
