The Ol' Tunes

You kin talk about yer anthems

An' yer arias an' sich,

An' yer modern choir-singin'

That you think so awful rich;

But you orter heerd us youngsters

In the times now far away,

A-singin' o' the ol' tunes

In the ol'-fashioned way.

There was some of us sung treble

An' a few of us growled bass,

An' the tide o' song flowed smoothly

With its 'comp'niment o' grace;

There was spirit in that music,

An' a kind o' solemn sway,

A-singin' o' the ol' tunes

In the ol'-fashioned way.

I remember oft o' standin'

In my homespun pantaloons—

On my face the bronze an' freckles

O' the suns o' youthful Junes—

Thinkin' that no mortal minstrel

Ever chanted sich a lay

As the ol' tunes we was singin'

In the ol'-fashioned way.

The boys 'ud always lead us,

An' the girls 'ud all chime in,

Till the sweetness o' the singin'

Robbed the list'nin' soul o' sin;

An' I used to tell the parson

'Twas as good to sing as pray,

When the people sung the ol' tunes

In the ol'-fashioned way.

How I long ag'in to hear 'em

Pourin' forth from soul to soul,

With the treble high an' meller,

An' the bass's mighty roll;

But the times is very diff'rent,

An' the music heerd to-day

Ain't the singin' o' the ol' tunes

In the ol'-fashioned way.

Little screechin' by a woman,

Little squawkin' by a man,

Then the organ's twiddle-twaddle,

Jest the empty space to span,—

An' ef you should even think it,

'Tisn't proper fur to say

That you want to hear the ol' tunes

In the ol'-fashioned way.

But I think that some bright mornin',

When the toils of life air o'er,

An' the sun o' heaven arisin'

Glads with light the happy shore,

I shall hear the angel chorus,

In the realms of endless day,

A-singin' o' the ol' tunes

In the ol'-fashioned way.