No matter how dark And stormy the night, My mind still wanders By my strong lovelight Holding a secret That nobody knows, And guided by the thought Of my Ruby Montrose.
Now I’ve gained her love renown, The world will smile and cease to frown. The summer breeze that always blows Will refreshen the love of my Ruby Montrose. I ne’er grow tired of the words I write, They are my soul and my heart’s delight. They hold more sweetness than any flower that grows, For in them’s the thought of my Ruby Montrose.
When beauty fades away Ugly approaches soon, But when ugly fades away Our place is lost beneath the moon.
Close not thy door To the blessing of God, Just e’er be humble And spare the rod. And when you see a friend Downhearted and cold Longing for the warmth Of a spirited soul, Just open the heart. Though it may seem odd, But to you will come the blessings Of our own God. No link or links tighter ties Than those that are blending to the human lives, Quote this to memory to have and to hold, And liven up the spirit when you’re grown old, And when on earth you’re done Then you can rest beneath the sod, For your door was always open To the blessings of God.
Down on the southern plantation, From sixty-one on back Our forefathers were shackled in slavery, And lived in huts and shacks, But this shows they’re loyal Hum, a negro as you glance, But their grandsons are answering the roll call Somewhere in France.
Before the fire at night When all was quite still, I had nature’s sweetest dream, And its beautiful old green hills.
Oh! that lovely photo, That appeared in the little blue blaze Showed summer with all its beauty And how the cattle used to graze.
Then came a sigh, Though followed by a smile, For the summer’s balmy breeze Made me feel like a child.
But dashed against the window The chilly howling winds That takes my vision in a snowdrift And how my heart does pine.
There’s a vision of your well known face, Shining like my love that’s gone to waste. I see your smiles as natural now, And the way I loved you, for you taught me how. Now I’m in a path that usually leads Down to degradation. My poor heart bleeds When I think of our separation.
Our hearts have met On the battlefield of love, Cupid is our general In his aeroplane above.