There's a little white house I had bought for our own
Where I dreamed we'd be happy, you and I [or by and by]
Dear, I leave it to you
For I know you'll be true
Till we meet at that golden gate, good-bye

From one of the train wreck songs.

Then there is the poem riddle about how to fulfill their father's will about leaving 17 horses to the three sons such that the eldest gets half, the middle one gets a third, and the youngest a ninth. Someone has probably put that one to music.