1. |
Spirit Rappings
01:53
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Softly, softly,
Hear the rustle
Of the Spirits airy wings;
They are coming down to mingle
Once again with earthly things,
With their rapping, and their tapping,
Rap-tap-tap to wake our napping,
In the restless dream of error:
Hear the weird the Spirit brings
Rap-tap-tap lost friends are near you;
Rap-tap-tap they see and hear you;
In their mystic converse rappy,
They declare good Spirits happy
They declare good Spirits happy
Gently, gently,
They are timid,
If a medium is not there;
They may leave you in delusion,
And dissolve again to air,
‘Tis no fable – beings able –
Rap-tap-tap upon a table;
And their language is translated,
While they watch with guardian care
Rap-tap-tap lost friends are near you;
Rap-tap-tap they see and hear you;
In their mystic converse rappy,
They declare good Spirits happy
They declare good Spirits happy.
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2. |
The Legend
03:21
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When through purple shades of dusk,
Whirls the grey moth’s ghostly flight.
Down the ancient stair she comes,
On her breast the rose is white.
And her face is passing fair,
Just as in that bygone day
When she lived and loved too well
One who loved and rode away.
Answer my love!
My heart’s deep call!
My heart’s deep call.
Answer, my love!
Oh once again,
Oh! once again.
My tears like dew,
Upon thy memory fall
My tears like dew
Upon thy memory fall,
I listen for thy answer
All in vain,
All in vain.
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3. |
The Ghost of the Violin
04:39
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In a quaint old antique store,
For a thousand years or more,
Laid a musty,
Laid a dusty violin;
Suddenly a ghost appeared,
Played upon it wild and weird!
And the ghost,
And the ghost,
Owned a violin
He made his violin moan,
In a weepy, creepy, tone!
The ghost of the violin,
The ghost played the violin,
His boney fingers are shivering,
Each moan just sets me a-quivering!
Don’t! don’t! don’t! don’t!
Make a sound, or he’ll know we’re around,
His eyes
Have a mournful glare,
His cried haunt me ev’rywhere;
He’s here, he’s there!
Beware, take care!
Keep away,
From the ghost of the violin.
Pretty soon the tale went ’round
That a weird old ghost was found,
With a moaning,
With a groaning violin;
Ev’ry night when twelve would chime,
People made it meeting time,
And they’d creep,
From their sleep,
To the violin
They’d whisper soft and low,
As the ghost would wield his bow.
The ghost of the violin,
The ghost played the violin,
His boney fingers are shivering,
Each moan just sets me a-quivering!
Don’t! don’t! don’t! don’t!
Make a sound, or he’ll know we’re around,
His eyes
Have a mournful glare,
His cried haunt me ev’rywhere;
He’s here, he’s there!
Beware, take care!
Keep away,
From the ghost of the violin.
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4. |
Jack O'Lantern Galop
02:59
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5. |
Not Yet!
02:19
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The leaves are falling to the ground,
The autumn wind is moaning round,
All nature seems to hear the sound,
It is not yet! not yet! not yet!
The maiden sits with eyes upturn’d,
As if her inward spirit yearn’d
To know if truth her heart had learn’d
She knows not yet! not yet! not yet!
She knows not yet!
She knows not yet! She knows not yet! not yet! not yet!
The lover broods o’er fancy’s spell,
What path he treads he cannot tell,
He can but hope that it is well,
He knows not yet! not yet! not yet!
What fate may have for us in store,
What joys or ills, if less or more,
What broken hearts we may restore
We know not yet! not yet! not yet!
We know not yet!
We know not yet! We know not yet! not yet! not yet!
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6. |
The Angel of Death
03:31
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Why should’st thou fear
The beautiful Angel, Death,
Who waits thee at the portals of the skies,
Ready to kiss away thy struggling breath,
Ready with gentle hand to close thine eyes?
How many a tranquil soul has passed away,
Fled gladly from fierce pain and pleasures dim,
To the eternal splendor of the day;
And many a troubled heart still calls for him.
He whom thou fearest will, to ease its pain,
Lay his cold hand upon thy aching heart;
Will soothe the terrors of thy troubled brain
And bid the shadow of earth’s grief depart,
He will give back what neither time, nor might,
Nor passionate prayer, nor longing hope restore.
(Dear as to long blind eyes recovered sight,)
He will give back those who are gone before.
Oh, what were life, if life were all?
Thine eyes are blinded by their tears,
Or thou would’st see
Thy treasures wait thee in the far off skies,
And Death, thy friend,
And Death, thy friend,
And Death will give them all,
Will give them all to thee.
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7. |
Our House Was Haunted
03:02
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Our house was haunted,
But nothing daunted,
With lamp in hand we did explore;
At first the basement,
Then to each place went
On each and every other floor.
The lights burned dimly,
We saw but glimly,
But felt the more th’oppressing gloom;
If good or evil,
If man or devil,
We did not dare to e’en presume,
With bated breath we continued
Our visitation, investigation,
We searched the whole habitation,
But found naught to justify our fears.
Our house was haunted,
Our house was haunted,
And fright o’ercame us, young and old;
It made us shake so,
It made us quake so,
It almost made our blood run cold.
The wind blew madly,
And moaned so sadly,
It made the loose blinds swing and creak;
With noise appalling,
We heard a falling,
Accomp’nied by a piercing shriek.
Not man not woman
It was not human,
It froze the marrow in our bones,
Such plaintive moaning,
Such dreadful groaning,
They were in truth unearthly tones;
We rushed where they seem’d to hover,
With hesitation, in trepidation,
What think you did we discover?
“Oh! silent be, it was the cat.”
Our house was haunted,
Our house was haunted,
And fright o’ercame us, young and old;
It made us shake so,
It made us quake so,
It almost made our blood run cold.
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8. |
The Wolf at the Door
02:06
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My mother, she died long ago
My father is aged and poor
And oftentimes says he can see
A wolf looking in at the door!
I go out and look all around,
But never a wolf so I see
Coming over the cold barren ground,
To eat up dear sister and me
So dear Mister wolf, do not come!
Go back to the woods, I implore,
And never invade our loved home
Nor ever look in at the door.
Yet father insists that some day
The big wolf that’s watching the door
Will rush in and seize on us all
And he will behold us no more
And then, (while his tears trickle down,)
He’ll fall to his knees on the floor
And pray that kind heaven will aid
To keep off the wolf at the door!
So dear Mister wolf, do not come!
Go back to the woods, I implore,
And never invade our loved home
Nor ever look in at the door.
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9. |
March of the Demons
02:32
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10. |
The Bleeding Nun
02:56
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On each fifth day
Of each fifth year
The bleeding Nun
She doth appear
And slowly walks
The Castle round
With steps that mark
The trembling ground.
They say her Lord
With painful dart
Savagely pierc’d
Her tender heart
And rudely tore
That beautious breast
Which o’er and o’er
He had caress’d
Her troubled spirit
Each fifth year
Within the dreary
Hall appear
And when the
Castle bell tolls
One appears just like
The bleeding Nun.
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11. |
Under the Daisies
02:50
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I’ve just been learning the lesson of life,
The sad, sad lesson of loving,
And all of its powers for pleasure or pain
Been slowly and sadly proving;
And all that’s left of the bright, bright dream,
With its thousand brilliant phazes,
Is a handful of dust, in a coffin hid
A coffin under the Daisies,
The beautiful, beautiful Daisies,
The snowy, snowy Daisies
And thus forever throughout this wide world,
Is love a sorrow proving
There are still many sorrowful things in life,
But the saddest of all is loving;
The life of some is worse than Death,
For Fate a high wall oft raises,
And far better than life with two hearts estranged,
Is a low grave starr’d with Daisies,
The beautiful, beautiful Daisies,
The snowy, snowy Daisies
And so ’tis better we liv’d as we did,
The summer of love together,
And that one of us tired and lay down to rest
Ere the coming of wintry weather;
For the saddest of love is love grown cold,
And ’tis one of its surest phazes,
So I bless my lot, tho’ with breaking heart,
For that grave enstarr’d with Daisies,
The beautiful, beautiful Daisies,
The snowy, snowy Daisies
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Parlormuse Willoughby, Ohio
Travel back in time to the Gilded Age for a nostalgic journey through the popular music of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Parlormuse rekindles the faded embers of the Victorian era while bringing its own modern rock and pop stylings to the traditions of yesteryear. ... more
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