To The Valley

Come hither, oh come hither, There's a bride upon her bed; They have strewn her o'er with roses, There are roses 'neath her head: Life is love and tears and laughter, But the laughter it is dead-- Sing the way to the Valley, to the Valley- Hey, but the roses they are red!

THE LILY FLOWER Oh, love, it is a lily flower, (Sing, my captain, sing, my lady!) The sword shall cleave it, Life shall leave it-- Who shall know the hour? (Sing, my lady, still!)