"Take Me Home" (1864)

"Take me home to the place where I first saw the light,
To the sweet Sunny South take me home."

Music by 
Hermann L. Schreiner.

Macon & Savanna, GA: J. C. Schreiner & Son
Selma, AL: J. W. Blandon
Mobile, AL: Jos. Bloch, J. H. Snow
Columbia, SC: Townsend & North
Montgomery, AL: W. S. Barton
Raleigh, NC: Bronston & Farrah
Richmond, VA: A. Morris, P. H. Taylor, J. W. Randolph,
  Woodhouse & Co., Wade[?] & Johnston
Charlotte, NC: S. W. Whitaker
Charleston, SC: Henry Siddling [sp?]
Augusta, GA: Blarckmar & Bro.
Altanta, GA: J. J. Richards & Co.
Wilmington, NC: F. D. Shaw, Jr., T. S. Whitaker
Printer: J. F. Weeks, Macon, GA
[Source: 094/144@Levy]

1. Take me home to the place where I first saw the light, 
To the sweet sunny South take me home; 
Where the mockingbird sang me to rest ev’ry night, 
Ah! why was I tempted to roam! 
I think with regret of the dear home I left— 
Of the warm hearts that shelter’d me then— 
Of the wife and the dear ones of whom I’m bereft, 
And I sigh for the old place again.

CHORUS 1
Take me home to the place where my little ones sleep, 
(Poor massa lies buried close by;) 
O’er the graves of the lov’d ones I long to weep, 
And among them to rest when I die.

2. Take me home to the place where the orange trees grow,
To my cot in the evergreen shade,
Where the flowers on the river’s green margin may blow
Their sweets on the banks where I played.
The path to our cottage they say has grown green,
And the place is quite lonely around,
And I know that the smiles and the forms I have seen
Now lie in the dark mossy ground.

CHORUS 2
Take me home to the place where my little ones sleep, 
(Poor massa lies buried close by;) 
O’er the graves of the lov’d ones I long to weep, 
And among them to rest when I die.

3. Take me home— let me see what is left that I knew;
Can it be that the old house is gone?
The dear friends of my childhood indeed must be few,
And I must lament all alone.
But yet I’ll return to the place of my birth,
Where my children have played at the door,
Where they pull’d the white blossoms that garnished the earth
Which will echo their footsteps no more.

CHORUS 3
Take me home to the place where my little ones sleep, 
(Poor massa lies buried close by;) 
O’er the graves of the lov’d ones I long to weep, 
For the old place again do I sigh.