With sorrow, where all was delight;
The time has come when the darkies have to part,--
Then my old Kentucky Home, good-night!

The head must bow, and the back will have to bend,
Wherever the darkey may go;
A few more days, and the trouble all will end,
In the field where the sugar-canes grow.
A few more days for to tote the weary load,--
No matter, 'twill never be light;
A few more days till we totter on the road,--
Then my old Kentucky Home, good-night!

Weep no more, my lady,
Oh, weep no more to-day!
We will sing one song for the old Kentucky Home,
For the old Kentucky Home, far away.

S.C. FOSTER.




The Black Regiment.

Port Hudson, May 27, 1863.


Dark as the clouds of even,
Ranked in the western heaven,