Stephen Foster

Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair


I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,
Borne, like a vapor, on the summer air;
I see her tripping where the bright streams play,
Happy as the daisies that dance on her way.
Many were the wild notes her merry voice would pour.
Many were the blithe birds that warbled them o'er:
Oh! I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,
Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.

I long for Jeanie with the daydawn smile,
I hear her melodies, like joys gone by,
Sighing round my heart o'er the fond hopes that die: --
Sighing like the night wind and sobbing like the rain, --
Wailing for the lost one that comes not again:
Oh! I long for Jeanie, and my heart bows low,
Never more to find her where the bright waters flow.

I sigh for Jeanie, but her light form strayed
Her smiles have vanished and her sweet songs flown,
Flitting like the dreams that have cheered us and gone.
Now the nodding wild flowers may wither on the shore
While her gentle fingers will cull them no more:
Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.

Stephen C. Foster

Old Black Joe


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.'

I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low:
I hear those 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 a go?
I hear their gentle voices calling 'Old Black Joe.'

I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low:
I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old Black Joe.'

Where are the hearts once so happy and so free?
Gone to the shore where my soul has longed to go.
I hear their gentle voices calling 'Old Black Joe.'

I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low:
I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old Black Joe.'

Stephen C. Foster

I like Stephen Foster's music and his poems.
Thank you for remembering him.

Love,
yoko


(writen by Stephen C. Foster)

Way down upon de Swanee ribber,
Far, far away,
Dere's wha my heart is turning ebber,
Dere's wha de old folks stay.
All up and down de whole creation,
Sadly I roam,
Still longing for de old plantation,
And for de old folks at home.

All de world am sad and dreary,
Ebry where I roam,
Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary,
Far from de old folks at home.

All round de little farm I wandered
When I was young,
Den many happy days I squandered,
Many de songs I sung.
When I was playing wid my brudder
Happy was I --.
Oh! take me to my kind old mudder,
Dere let me live and die.

All de world am sad and dreary,
Ebry where I roam,
Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary,
Far from de old folks at home.

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 de bees a humming
All round de comb?
When will I hear de banjo tumming
Down in my good old home?

All de world am sad and dreary,
Ebry where I roam,
Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary,
Far from de old folks at home.

The MIDI music playing in the background now is from: http://www.pdmusic.org/foster.html

A huge MP3 file (2700K!) with lyrics (words sung):

http://www.stephen-foster-songs.de/MP3/foster02.mp3

from: http://www.stephen-foster-songs.de/Archiv02.htm

Thank you Teo for the music, and thank you yoko.

My old kentucky home, good night!


The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home,
'Tis summer, the darkies are gay,
The corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom
While the birds make music all the day.
The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,
All merry, all happy and bright:
By'n by Hard Times comes a knocking at the door,
Then my old Kentucky Home, good night!

Weep no more, my lady, oh! weep no more to-day!
We will sing one song
For the old Kentucky Home,
For the old Kentucky Home, far away.

They hunt no more for the possum and the coon
On the meadow, the hill and the shore,
They sing no more by the glimmer of the moon,
On the bench by the old cabin door.
The day goes by like a shadow o'er the heart,
With sorrow where all was delight:
The time has come when the darkies have to part,
Then my old Kentucky Home, good-night!

Weep no more, my lady, oh! weep no more to-day!
We will sing one song
For the old Kentucky Home,
For the old Kentucky Home, far away.

The head must bow and the back will have to bend,
Wherever the darkey may go:
A few more days, and the trouble all will end
In the field where the sugar-canes grow.
A few more days for to tote the weary load,
No matter 'twill never be light,
A few more days till we totter on the road,
Then my old Kentucky Home, good-night!

Weep no more, my lady, oh! weep no more to-day!
We will sing one song
For the old Kentucky Home,
For the old Kentucky Home, far away.

Stephen Foster

Nice poem u definatly have a great taste of poems. the type of poems one liek reflects the state of mind oen person is in. always remember we friends are here with u always.
although we might never meet. but we r still here to give u all cthe confort and peace.
regards
Razi

quote:

Originally posted by dear Razi:
we r still here to give u all the comfort and peace.

Nicely said!

Thank you for this post.
I will come back to it later when time permits.
I like Stephen Foster.

Love,
Sue

Oh Susana!
a poem by Stephen Foster



I came from Alabama
wid my banjo on my knee,
I'm g'wan to Louisiana,
My true love for to see,
It raind all night the day I left
The weather it was dry,
The sun so hot I frose to death
Susana dont you cry.
[Chorus] Oh! Susana Oh! dont you cry for me
I've come from Alabama wid mi ban jo on my knee.
[Solo] I jumped aboard de telegraph,
And trabbelled down de riber,
De Lectric fluid magnified,
And Killed five Hundred Nigger
De bullgine buste, de horse run off,
I realy thought I'd die;
I shut my eyes to hold my breath,
Susana, dont you cry.
[Chorus] Oh! Susana Oh! dont you cry for me
I've come from Alabama wid mi ban jo on my knee.
[Solo] I had a dream de odder night,
When ebery ting was still;
I thought I saw Susana,
A coming down de hill.
The buckwheat cake war in her mouth,
The tear was in her eye,
Says I, im coming from de South,
Susana, dont you cry.
[Chorus] Oh! Susana Oh! dont you cry for me
I've come from Alabama wid mi ban jo on my knee.
[Solo] I soon will be in New Orleans,
And den I'll look all round,
And when I find Susana,
I'll fall upon the ground.
But if I do not find her,
Dis darkie 'l surely die,
And when I'm dead and buried,
Susana, dont you cry.
[Chorus] Oh! Susana Oh! dont you cry for me
I've come from Alabama wid mi ban jo on my knee.

Thank you for the Stephen Foster poetry.

I like the added sound.

Sincerely,
Gisele

quote:

Beautiful Dreamer


Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;
Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd a way!

Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
List while I woo thee with soft melody;
Gone are the cares of life's busy throng, --
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea
Mermaids are chaunting the wild lorelie;
Over the streamlet vapors are borne,
Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.

Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart, --
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

- by Stephen Foster

I heard this song last night and it reminded me of this topic on Givnologt. This is a really beautiful song.

Love,
Vicky