The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #53767   Message #3996377
Posted By: Joe Offer
14-Jun-19 - 02:27 AM
Thread Name: Origin: Sweet Sunny South/We Shall See Her No More
Subject: ADD: Take Me Home (Sweet Sunny South)
Thanks, Jimmy. We've had plenty of mention of the sheet music at the American Memory Collection of the Library of Congress, but I guess we haven't actually posted that version. Frankly, I like the newer versions better - and the Charlie Poole version (above) best. And if "Massah" is objectionable, try changing it to "Mother." Who can object to Good Old Mom?
Bloomfield, W. L. Take Me Home. Firth, Pond and Co., New York, monographic, 1853. Notated Music. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, www.loc.gov/item/sm1853.710410/.
This was published in 1853 by Firth, Pond & Co., as sung by Christy's Minstrels. Composer was W.L. Bloomfield.

TAKE ME HOME
(W.L. Bloomfield)

Take me home to the place where I first saw the light,
To the sweet sunny south take me home;
Where the mocking bird sung me to rest every night,
Ah! why was I tempted to roam?
I think with regret of the dear home I left,
Of the kind hearts that sheltered me then,
Of the wife and the dear ones of whom I'm bereft,
And I sigh for the old place again.

Take me home to the land 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 bank where we played.
The path to our cottage they say it has grown green
And the place is quite lonely around,
And I know that the forms and the smiles that I've seen
Now lie in the dark mossy ground.

CHORUS
Take me home to the place where my little ones sleep,
Poor Massa lies buried close by
O'er the graves of the loved ones I'm longing to weep,
And among them to rest when I die.

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 by the door,
When they pulled the white blossoms to garnish the hearth,
That will echo their footsteps no more.