In the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia,
On the trail of the lonesome pine,
In the pale moonshine our hearts entwine,
Where she carved her name and I carved mine,
Oh, June, like the mountains I’m blue,
Like the pine, I am lonesome for you,
In the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia,
On the trail of the lonesome pine. 
I can hear the tinkling water-fall far among the hills,
Bluebirds sing each so merrily, to his mate rapture
  thrills,
They seem to say, Your June is lonesome too. 
Longing fills her eyes,
She is waiting for you patiently,
Where the pine tree sighs.

       WHEN THE BELL IN THE LIGHTHOUSE
               RINGS DING DONG

Lyric by                   Music by
ARTHUR J. LAMB             ALFRED SOLMAN

Just a glance in your eyes, my bonnie Kate,
  Then over the sea go I,
While the sea-gulls circle around the ship,
  And the billowy waves roll high. 
And over the sea and away, my Kate,
  Afar to the distant West;
But ever and ever a thought I’ll have,
  For the lassie who loves me best.

REFRAIN

When the bell in the lighthouse rings ding, dong,
When it clangs with its warning loud and long,
  Then a sailor will think of his sweetheart so true,
  And long for the day he’ll come back to you;
And his love will be told in the bell’s brave song
When the bell in the lighthouse rings ding, dong,
  Ding!  Dong!  Ding!  Dong! 
When the bell in the lighthouse rings
  Ding!  Dong!  Ding!  Dong!

For a day is to come, my bonnie Kate,
  When joy in our hearts shall reign
And we’ll laugh to think of the dangers past,
  When you rest in my arms again. 
For back to your heart I will sail, my Kate,
  With love that is staunch and true;
In storm or in calm there’s a star of hope,
  That’s always to shine for you.

SWEET ITALIAN LOVE

Words by                   Music by
IRVING BERLIN               TED SNYDER

Everyone talk-a how they make-a da love
Call-a da sweet name like-a da dove,
It makes me sick when they start in to speak-a
Bout the moon way up above. 
What’s-a da use to have-a big-a da moon? 
What’s the use to call-a da dove
If he no like-a she, and she no like-a he,
The moon can’t make them love.  But,

CHORUS

Sweet Italian love,
Nice Italian love,

You don’t need the moon-a-light your love to tell her,
In da house or on da roof or in da cellar,
Dat’s Italian love,
Sweet Italian love;
When you kiss-a your pet,
And it’s-a like-a spagette,
Dat’s Italian love.

Ev’ryone say they like da moon-a da light,
There’s one-a man up in da moon all-a right,
But he no tell-a that some other nice feller
Was-a kiss your gal last night. 
Maybe you give your gal da wedding-a ring,
Maybe you marry, like-a me
Maybe you love your wife, maybe for all your life,
But dat’s only maybe.  But,