Those songs my mother used to sing : ballad / words and music by H. Wakefield Smith
MLA Citation
Smith, H. Wakefield, 1865-1956. “Those songs my mother used to sing : ballad / words and music by H. Wakefield Smith.” Digital Gallery. BGSU University Libraries, 27 June 2022, digitalgallery.bgsu.edu/items/show/36717. Accessed 16 Jan. 2025.
Tags
Title | Those songs my mother used to sing : ballad / words and music by H. Wakefield Smith |
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Subject | Popular music -- 1911-1920;Ballads |
Description | For voice and piano;Cover title;Verso of cover: Advertisement for educational music books of rare value;Inside back cover: Advertisement for Witmark Entertainment publications;Back cover: Advertisement for the artistic series |
Creator | Smith, H. Wakefield, 1865-1956 |
Publisher | New York : M. Witmark & Sons |
Date | 1914 |
Rights | |
Format | Sheet music |
Published works | |
image/jpeg | |
Type | Image |
Text | |
Identifier | SMC02293 |
M.W. & Sons 6202-4 M. Witmark & Sons | |
https://digitalgallery.bgsu.edu/items/show/36717 | |
Alternative Title | First line of text: Within the shadow of my room;First line of chorus: Oh, believe me, if all those endearing young charms |
Is Part Of | Sheet Music Collection, Music Library and Bill Schurk Sound Archives, University Libraries, Bowling Green State University |
References | https://maurice.bgsu.edu:443/record=b2437510~S9 |
VERSE 1: Within the shadow of my room, An old melodeon idly stands,/ A relic of my dear old home Long years ago in distant lands./ Its iv'ry keys are turning brown, But 'round it tender mem'ries cling;/ And with its sweetest tones have flown Those song my mother used to sing:VERSE 2: Its frame is falling to decay, The music from its soul has fled,/ And those dear hands that used to play, Like autumn leaves, lie still and dead./ I see her dear form sitting there, Sometimes, when fancy takes its wing;/ And then, with tear-dimm'd eyes, I hear Those songs my mother used to sing:REFRAIN: Oh, "Believe me, if all those endearing young charms," Is a song that she oft' sang to me,/ And "Last Rose of Summer" Still breathes a fragrant melody./ "Ah! Do you remember, sweet Alice, Ben Bolt?" From out the golden past those sweet notes ring,/ Tonight I hear those dear old songs again, Those songs my mother used to sing. | |
Original Format | 1 score (5 pages) 34 cm |