1. |
A Hundred Years Hence
01:28
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A HUNDRED YEARS HENCE
Tony Pastor
A hundred years hence!
A hundred years hence!
Abe Lincoln s been going it with a high hand
But still he is our ruler and by him we ll stand
Let s hope in the end that he ll prove he s got sense
But he'll be forgotten a hundred years hence
A hundred years hence!
A hundred years hence!,
There s one whose bright fame shall forever live on
He preserved us a Nation: Our own Lincoln
For the Union and Freedom, his heart beat intense.
And he ll be remembered a thousand years hence.
A thousand years hence!
A thousand years hence!
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2. |
Better Times Are Coming
02:00
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BETTER TIMES ARE COMING
(1862) Stephen Foster
There are voices of hope that are borne on the air,
And our land will be freed from ist clouds of despair,
For brave men and true men to battle have gone,
And good times, good times are now coming on.
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Sound the news from the din of battle booming,
Tell the people far and wide that better times are coming.
Abra'm Lincoln has the army and the navy in his hands,
While Seward keeps our honor bright abroad in foreign lands;
And Stanton is a man, who is sturdy as a rock,
With brave men to back him up and stand the battle's shock.
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Sound the news from the din of battle booming,
Tell the people far and wide that better times are coming.
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3. |
The Assassin's Vision
02:52
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THE ASSASSIN'S VISION
(1865) J.W. Turner.
The Assassin rode on his fiery steed,
His murd'rous work was done--
In the darksome night with fleeting speed,
Through woods his courser run!
As he hurried away from the scene of death,
On his brow were looks of despair;
Before him! around him! The evening's breath
Told him God's vengeance was there!
The pale moon beamed as onward he fled,
The stars looked down from on high,
The hills and valleys were crimson red
As blood to the murd'rer's eye!
He shuddered! he trembled! And oft looked around,
And dreary seemed each passing breeze,
And lo! the assassin at ev'ry bound
Saw a vision appear in the trees.
Heaven had witnessed! he could not escape!
The assassin's fate was sealed--
"Vengeance is mine!" saith God in his might,
As the vision that night revealed.
The assassin rode on with trembling and fear,
And mournfully murmur'd the breeze;
Before him! around him! all vivid and drear,
The vision appeared in the trees.
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4. |
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To the Memory of our Lamented President
Words and music by Henry Schroeder
1865.
A GLOOM IS CASR O'ER ALL THE LAND
To the Memory of our Lamented President
(1865) Henry Schroeder
A gloom is cast o'er all the land,
Our President is dead!
He fell by vile assassins hand,
His precious blood they shed!
They've slain the man who was their friend,
Most cowardly and base;
We all lament the sad event,
That brought to close his days.
Oh nation rouse! Oh nation rouse!
And let this crime, And let this crime,
A warning be for future time!
A warning be for future time!
His mind was kind and generous,
No hatred in his breast,
With love for North and South alike,
He labor'd for the best;
His mission, by that fatal deed,
Was ended much to[o] soon;
When most his counsel was of need,
On came the dreadful doom.
Oh nation rouse! Oh nation rouse!
Avenge the blow! Avenge the blow!
To traitors now no mercy show.
To traitors now no mercy show.
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5. |
Ring the Bell Softly
03:56
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RING THE BELL SOFTLY
(1865) W. Dexter Smith Jr.
Someone has gone from this strange world of ours
No more to gather its thorns with its flow'rs
No more to linger where sunbeams must fade
Where, on all beauty, death's fingers are laid
Weary with mingling life's bitter and sweet
Weary with parting and never to meet
Someone has gone to the bright, golden shore
Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door
Someone is resting from sorrow and sin,
Happy where earth's conflicts enter not in
Joyous as birds when the morning is bright
When the sweet sunbeams have brought us their light
Weary with sowing and never to reap
Weary with labour and welcoming sleep
Someone's departed to Heaven's glad shore
Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door
Angels were anxiously longing to meet
One who walks with them in Heaven's bright street
Loved ones have whisper'd that someone is blest
Free from earth's trials, and taking sweet rest
Yes! there is one more in angelic bliss
One less to cherish, and one less to kiss
One more departed to Heaven's bright shore
Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door
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6. |
Our Brutus
00:52
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OUR BRUTUS
He hath died for the weal of a land neath the heel
Of too many a merciless Nero;
But while there is steel, every tyrant shall feel
That God s vengeance but waiteth its hero.
He hath written his name in letters of flame
O er the archway of liberty s portal
And the serfs that now blame
will crimson with shame
When they learned they have cursed an immortal!
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7. |
Savior Of Our Country
04:47
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SAVIOR OF OUR COUNTRY
(1865) James Porter and O. Wheelock,
Father! when on earth you fell
Father! was my Mother well?
When I fell your Mother cried!
Then unconsciously I died.
Glory forms our sunlight here!
Astral Lamps our Chandelier!
Rode you here among the stars,
In the train of silver cars!
Willie! on the earth look back!
Father! tis a speck of black!
Robed in Mourning as you see!
Mourns the Earth for you and me!
God is Father! God is dear!
May I have two Fathers here?
Father! on our Golden pave,
Jingles something from your grave!
Willie! yes, Four Million Chains,
Bring I here where Justice Reigns,
From the Land your Father saves!
Chains that bound Four Millions Slaves!
Willie! on the earth look back!
Father! tis a speck of black!
Robed in Mourning as you see!
Mourns the Earth for you and me!
I have conquered all the Land!
I have made the South my Friend!
Who four years my power defied!
In my Glory's zenith died!
WILLIE! on the earth look back!
Father! 'tis a speck of black?
Robed in Mourning as you see!
Mourns the Earth for you and me!
Willie! on the earth look back!
Father! tis a speck of black!
Robed in Mourning as you see!
Mourns the Earth for you and me!
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Chris Vallillo Macomb, Illinois
Chris Vallillo is a singer/songwriter and folk musician who makes the people and places of “unmetropolitan” America come to
life in song.
Performing on six-string and bottleneck slide guitars and harmonica, Vallillo weaves original, contemporary, and traditional songs and narratives into a compelling and entertaining portrait of the history and lifestyles of the Midwest.
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