Stephen Foster, 1851
I would not die in Summer time|
When hearts are light and free,
And joy is borne from every clime
O'er mountain, stream and lea.
I would not leave the friends I know,
Beguiled of hope and cheer,
To lose in burning tears of woe
The glad time of the year.
2. Oh! no, I would not pass away|
When, from the leafy grove,
The red bird carols all the day
Its song of joy and love;
When merry warblers trill their notes
From every bush and tree,
And on the breeze, an anthem floats
Of heaven-born melody.
3. I would not die in Summer time,|
And lie within the tomb,
When blushing fruits are in their prime,
And fields are in their bloom;
For I would reap the yellow grain
And bind it in the sheaves;
Then die when Autumn winds complain
Among the blighted leaves.
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