St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1890-06-07
SONGS OF LONG AGO.


| Ho Masie Half - 0wese - tAo 0e0esy
- 1sehss's Teoase L1nsos
':The mothers Of to-day do not sins q
the mother did in lang syns." said q
man whose business-cares have never
overcome and crowded out the soul el
poetry and the memory Of happy boy.
hood "You seldom hear woman sing.
| ing about the house now"
So IL IL. The modern mother does NOT
sing - our dear old-fashioned mothers
used 70 sing. She has little time to her.
self, and II she did not have the advan.
tages Of . musical education she says
she can not sing.
Then. too. the songs Of to-day are not
like and never will b like those old
songs. They do not touch the heart
and give the hearts feeling utteranco
through the lips. There are beautiful
songs set to music. Of course. and won
derful voices sing them ON the stage and
In the drawing.room. but how seldom IL
u that We hear . song that thrills and
charms rs and brings the pearls Of
feeling" to our eyss. A voice pleases us
and we bear home tho satisfaction Of
having heard IN artist Of artists. but we
will forget the singer and the song long
before We forget one word or ono note Of
the one who sang "Bonnie Doom" nd
'.Annie Laurie"
There are those Of % who win never
forget the summer evenings. the ripple
Of the brook in the distance, the stir Of
the woodbine leaves around the window,
the sweet fragrance Of the .'birk" from
the neighbosing wood, when tho mother
sang 'Afton Water" and rocked her
baby - sleep
And then there were other songs that
stirred our childish hearts. The Sol
dier's Dream"
Our s.:'s: ss :..s;s'.''. for the ''sAs cloud
And the sentinel stars ses their watch II
the sky:
The weary - sleep and the wes,dsd 70
Reposing that nishs o. ny pallet Of straw.
By the wolf-searing fasgss thai guarded
the slain,
In the deed Of the night q swsss vision I
And thrice ere the ne,.,ss I Arsa.sa N
again.
Our childish imagination could picture
tho soldier. always handsome. in his
uniform. lying down On tho Aeld Of bat
tle to sleep under the stars. the pine
knots' blase soaring away the prowline
wolves, and he dreaming Of hearing his
Town mountain goatspbleatine aloof, "
and Of bearing ''the sweet song that the
corn reauera nunR"s
There was anotheR song. old, very cd;
'On the Lake Where Droopsd the VIII
low" the story Of girl who disd in
autumn; and. ''rll Hang Ny Harp On
the Willow Tree" which later-dsy
neutrality-suspicious. tell us WAS dedi-
Gated 70 Her Majesty. Victoria There
was 'Jeannette and Jeanot" ''Old Ken.
tuoky Home" and 'ASuWneo RivoI," and
to-day ~ can not listen -
O. take ne to NJ ksnA old noehee;
There los - live aA4 die,
sung in soft weird tones of .
jubilee Singer. the pathetic ones Of lit |
tie Kavanagh q Of the everyday street
Arab. without . rush Of tender feeling.
! There was aAotheR song. . regular
bedtime song n it, vooiAg swostnesa.
It Was The Cuckoo:" ~ s.rE .s. II
When wiseee oe0es eho woods = ~ ho0o. !
II summer sing u the Dead0wA
How No like to hear about the little !
btrd that hid ITSELF away In the brush
In the winter. and IN the speingtims it,
plaintivo ''ouckoo." ''cuckoo." was the |
sure AaFbinger Of eoft south winds and
warn showers. F4.4s
And last saA best Of all was that soog
u ''Clari. the Maid Of Milan"
Ma pleasures and palaces though ~ may |
- is ever % hsnbas, shsEss 10 place IKE |
No there u - place uko home, sna |
here aEo soags like those of tAe old time,
Ind there r. NO music half % sweet q I
he memory Of those tender 1otea-I
8ufYnl0 m w NAwn