For sociables and voice exercisin', these old timey songs will be found particular good.

How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection returns them to view,
The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wildwood.
And every loved spot that my infancy knew.

The old oaken bucket,
The iron bound bucket,
The moss covered bucket,
That hung in the well.

Our grandfather's clock was too big for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor,
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a single ounce more,
It was bought on the morn of the day he was born
And 'twas always his pleasure and pride.

But it stopped--short,
Never to go again,
On the day the old man died.

I wandered today to the hill, Maggie,
To watch the scene below;
The creek and the creaking old mill, Maggie,
As we used to, long ago.
The green grove is gone from the hill, Maggie,
Where first the daisies sprung;
The creaking old mill is still, Maggie,
Since you and I were young.

And now we are aged and gray, Maggie,
And the trials of life nearly done;
Let us sing of the days that are gone, Maggie,
When you and I were young.

The sun shines bright on my old Kentucky home,
'Tis summer, the darkies are gay;
The corn tops ripe, and the meadows all in bloom,
While the birds make music all the day.
The young folks roll on the little cabin floor.
All merry, all happy and bright;
By'n by hard times come a knocking at the door,
Then my old Kentucky home, goodnight!

Weep no more, my lady, Weep no more today;
We will sing one song of our old Kentucky home,
Of our old Kentucky home, far away.

Swing low, sweet
  chariot,
Coming for to carry
  me home,
Swing low, sweet
  chariot,
Coming for to carry me
  home.

Verse

I looked over Jordan
  and what did I see,
Coming for to carry
  me home?
A band of angels coming for me,
Coming for to carry me home.

Verse

If you get there before I do,
Coming for to carry me home,
Tell all my frien's I'm coming too,
Coming for to carry me home.

Oh I wish I was in de land ob cotton,
Old times dar am not forgotten,

Look away, look away, look away, Dixie land.
Den I wish I was in Dixie, hooray, hooray!
In Dixie land I'll take my stand to lib and die in Dixie,
Away, away, away down south in Dixie,
Away, away, away down south in Dixie.