Christy and Wood's Burletta (1854) |
Hear the Mocking Bird. As sung in George Christy and Wood's Operatic Burletta of UNCLE TOM'S CABIN. CLICK ICONS TO ENLARGE |
When the sun is brightly shining, To the cotton-field I go, Where the darkies' heads are peeping out From fields as white as snow; There, the perfume of the cedar, And the mocking-bird's sweet note, Seem blending with the darkies' voice, As through the air they float. Hear the mocking-bird, Hear the mocking-bird-- When the sun is brightly shining, To the cotton-field I go, Where the darkies' heads are peeping out From fields as white as snow. Oh, how I love the moonbeam! When the sun's declining ray, Seems dancing on the water, Just at the close of day. When I hear the darkies singing, From my couch whereon I rest, What sweet dreams then come o'er me, Hear the mocking-bird, Hear the mocking-bird, When the sun is brightly shining, To the cotton-field I go, Where the darkies' heads are peeping out From fields as white as snow. |
As sung by GEORGE CHRISTY, in the Celebrated Burletta of UNCLE TOM'S CABIN. |
I can play the banjo, yes, indeed I can! I can play a tune upon the frying-pan; I hollow like a steamboat fore she's gwan to stop; I can sweep a chimney, and sing out at the top. Oh, I can jump and I can hop, And take a little snopsey; Oh, I can sleep just like a top, Bekase my name am Topsey. When my face gets black, it always turns it brown, Den I get my boots and jump right up and down; I can roll a ball and make a ten-strike; I'm some at a butting, when dar's gwan to be a fight. Oh, I can jump and I can hop, And take a little snopsey; Oh, I can sleep just like a top, Bekase my name am Topsey. I can cotch a locust, and teach him how to sing; I can shoot a bullfrog flying on de wing; I tamed an alligator to move along de plow; De first potater I turned up was our old brindle cow. Oh, I can jump and I can hop, And take a little snopsey; Oh, I can sleep just like a top, Bekase my name am Topsey. |
Aunt Cloe and Uncle Tom. |
SOLO, TOM. Don't you remember, Cloe, dear, when you and I were young, Sometimes about the old door-steps, with tales of fear and fun, We'd sit and talk of ghosts, and oft imagine they were so, Till when the time of parting came. DUETT. Ah, yes, do I remember the stars that shone above, That twinkled in our childhood, shines bright upon our love. SOLO, CLOE. Ah, yes, do I remember still, the tales you told to me, And how I'd long for evening, that I might list to thee; The frightful tales I loved the most, and in the chilly weather, For trembling then with fear and fright, so close we got together. DUETT Ah, yes, do I remember the stars that shone above, That twinkled in our childhood, shines bright upon our love. |