While we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay
There are frail forms fainting at the door:
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say —
Oh! Hard Times, come again no more.
Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears
While we all sup sorrow with the poor:
There's a song that will linger forever in our ears; —
Oh! Hard Times, come again no more.
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary; —
Hard Times, Hard Times, come again no more:
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door;
Oh! Hard Times, come again no more.
3
There's a pale drooping maiden who toils her life away
— — With a worn heart whose better days are o'er:
Though her voice would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day —
— — Oh! Hard Times, come again no more.
Tis the song &c.
4
'Tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave,
— — 'Tis a wail that is heard upon the shore,
'Tis a dirge that is murmured around the lowly grave, —
— — Oh! Hard Times, come again no more.
Tis the song &c.
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary;
Hard Times, Hard Times, come again no more;
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door,
Oh! Hard Times, come again no more.
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary;
Hard Times, Hard Times, come again no more;
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door,
Oh! Hard Times, come again no more.

More verses by Stephen Collins Foster

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