If you go away down South, to Mississippi State, Don’t fail to seek our Cabin there, with Juney at the gate; Tell her to wait a little while, tell her in hope to wait, For I am he shall make her free, and take her from the gate. The Cabin stands upon the stream, &c. The Little Blacksmith. 27 We heard his hammer all day long On the anvil ring, and ring, But he always came when the sun went down, To sit on the gate and sing; His little hands so hard and brown Cross’d idly on his knee, And straw-hat lopping over cheeks As red as they could be. _Chorus._--The hammer’s stroke on the anvil, fill’d His heart with a happy ring, And that was why, when the sun went down, He came to the gate to sing. His blue and faded jacket, trimm’d With signs of work, his feet All bare and fair upon the grass, He made a picture sweet. For still his shoes, with iron shod, On the smithy wall he hung, As forth he came, when the sun went down, And sat on the gate and sung. _Chorus._--The hammer’s stroke on the anvil, fill’d, &c. The whistling rustic tending cows, Would keep in pastures near, And half the busy villagers Lean from their doors to hear. And from the time the robin came And made the hedges bright, Until the stubble yellow grew, He never miss’d a night. _Chorus._--The hammer’s stroke on the anvil, &c. Over the Mountain. 28 Over the mountain wave, See where they come; Storm cloud and wintry wind Welcome them home; Yet where the sounding gale Howls to the sea, There their song peals along Deep-toned and free. _Chorus._--Pilgrims and wanderers. Hither we come; Where the free dare to be, This is our home. England hath sunny dales, Dearly they bloom; Scotia hath heather hills, Sweet their perfume; Yet through the wilderness Cheerful we stray, Native land, native land, Home far away! _Chorus._--Pilgrims and wanderers, &c.