My Jennie had the sweetest face, And eyes of sparkling jet, With lips like new-born roses, She was my darling pet; But Death he called one morning, And took my love away, And left me lonely weeping, For my gentle Jennie Gray. _Chorus._--Hush the banjo, &c. And in the ground they laid her, Close by my cabin door; A rude stone marks the spot, Where she sleeps to wake no more; While at her grave I’m weeping, At every close of day, I fancy then, she’s sleeping, And not dead! my Jennie Gray. _Chorus._--Hush the banjo, &c. Faded Flowers. 23 Copied by permission of RUSSELL & TOLMAN, 291 Washington St., Boston, owners of the copyright. The flowers I saw in the wild wood, Have since dropp’d their beautiful leaves, And the many dear friends of my childhood, Have slumber’d for years in their graves; But the bloom of the flowers I remember, Though their smiles I shall never more see, For the cold, chilly winds of December Stole my flowers, my companions, from me. The roses may bloom on the morrow, And many dear friends I have won, But my heart can part with but sorrow, When I think of the ones that are gone. ’Tis no wonder that I am broken-heart’d And stricken with sorrow should be, For we have met, we have loved, we have part’d, My flowers, my companions, and me. How dark looks this world, and how dreary, When we part from the ones that we love, But there’s rest for the faint and the weary, And friends meet with lost ones above; But in heaven I can but remember, When from earth my proud soul shall be free, That no chilly winds of December, Shall steal my companions from me. Hard Times. 24 Listen awhile and give ear to my song Concerning these hard times, ’twill not take you long, How every one tries each other to bite, And in cheating each other they think they do right. Nothing but hard times. There are some young men, which you very well know, To see pretty girls they are sure to go; The old folks will giggle, they will laugh, and they’ll grin, Crying, “Use him well, Sal, or he’ll not come again.”