(Continued from page 15)

De's a-ringin' out de glory ob de Lamb.
Hear dem bells,
Don't you hear dem bells,
De's a-ringin' out de glory ob de Lamb.

Weep no more my lady, Oh, weep no more today,
For we'll sing one song for my Old Kentucky Home,
For my Old Kentucky Home, good night.

Picture to night a field of snowy white,
Hear the darkies singing soft and low,
I long there to be,
For some one waits for me,
Down where the cotton blossoms grow.

Carry me back to old Virginia,
That's where the cotton, the corn and 'taters grow,
That's where the birds warble sweetly in the springtime,
That's where this good old darkey's heart am long to go.

John Brown's Body Lies Mouldering in the Grave
(A Flat)
John Brown's body lies mouldering in the grave,
John Brown's body lies mouldering in the grave,
John Brown's body lies mouldering in the grave,
His soul is marching on.

Auld Lang Syne
(F Flat)
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And day's of auld lang ayne.

CHORUS
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

We two ha'e sported i' the burn,
Frae mornin' sun till dine,
But seas between us braid ha'e roared
Sin' auld lang syne.

And here's a band, my trusty frien,
And gie's a hand o' thine,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
Sin' auld lang syne.

(Continued on page 17)