Come little leaves - George Cooper This was probably the first sing I ever learned. My Grandmother sang this song to me and told me she learned it in school when she was little (and she was born in 1893). Though I never heard anyone else sing it, I loved it and taught it to my kids and grandkids. I hope they pass it on, too.
“A song she heard Of cold that gathers,Like winter's tongue among the shadows it rose like blackness In the sky,That on volcano's Vomit rise a stone of ruin from burn to chill, Like black moonrise her voice fell still...” ― Robert Fanney