“Jim Crow,” and “Annie Laurie,” too—
And, answering its bugle-calls,
The old times rise for me and you.
“Then You’ll Remember Me,” it plays—
And straight our memories go back
Through all the dead years’ mellow haze,
With frequent pause along the track.
And then we see the grass-grown streets,
The orchards gleaming in the sun,
Where crooning bees seek out the sweets