Back to Laurel Hill, Pennsylvania and West Virginia Folk Songs from the Bayard Collection: Volume 1, UK prerelease, July 23, 2015, US release, November 13, 2015.
UNDER CONSTRUCTION: Lyrics and notes are being added!
Track 1. THE ROVING GAMBLER (The Gambling Man), as sung by Charles Scott Brink, near Smicksburg, Indiana County, Pennsylvania. Brink was born in 1862. He was a farmer. When Professor Bayard met him, the aged Mr. Brink could not longer play his fiddle, but he was a remarkable singer, whose repertoire encompassed musical traditions of the north and south.
1. "I am a roving gambler, I rove from town to town;
Wherever I see a deck of cards so willingly I set down,
So willingly I sat down, so willingly I sat down,
Wherever I see a deck of cards so willingly I sat [set] down.
2. It’s on my way of rambling I came to London town;
And there I saw a deck of cards, so willingly I sat [set] down,
So willingly I sat down, so willingly I sat down,
It’s there I saw a deck of cards so willingly I sat down."
3. "Oh Mother, dearest Mother, don’t you love that gambling man?
If you never see me come back again, just do the best you can,
Just do the best you can, just do the best you can,
If you never see me come back again, just do the best you can."
4. "Oh daughter, dear daughter, what makes you talk so,
For to fall in love with a gambling man and with a gambler go,
And with a gambler go, and with a gambler go,
For to fall in love with a gambling man and with a gambler go?"
5. "I would not marry a farmer that’s always in the dirt;
I would rather marry the gambling man that wears a lily-white shirt,
That wears a lily-white shirt, that wears a lily-white shirt,
I would rather my the gambling man that wears a lily-white shirt.
6. I would not marry a miner, that’s always in the coal;
I’d rather marry the gambling man, that carries the lumps of gold,
That carries the lumps of gold, that carries the lumps of gold,
I would rather marry the gambling man that carries the lumps of gold.
7. His pockets lined with silver, and the lorings (and an orange) in his hand,
The love I have for the gambling man no human tongue can tell,
No human tongue can tell, no human tongue can tell,
The love I have for the gambling man no human tongue can tell."
1. "I am a roving gambler, I rove from town to town;
Wherever I see a deck of cards so willingly I set down,
So willingly I sat down, so willingly I sat down,
Wherever I see a deck of cards so willingly I sat [set] down.
2. It’s on my way of rambling I came to London town;
And there I saw a deck of cards, so willingly I sat [set] down,
So willingly I sat down, so willingly I sat down,
It’s there I saw a deck of cards so willingly I sat down."
3. "Oh Mother, dearest Mother, don’t you love that gambling man?
If you never see me come back again, just do the best you can,
Just do the best you can, just do the best you can,
If you never see me come back again, just do the best you can."
4. "Oh daughter, dear daughter, what makes you talk so,
For to fall in love with a gambling man and with a gambler go,
And with a gambler go, and with a gambler go,
For to fall in love with a gambling man and with a gambler go?"
5. "I would not marry a farmer that’s always in the dirt;
I would rather marry the gambling man that wears a lily-white shirt,
That wears a lily-white shirt, that wears a lily-white shirt,
I would rather my the gambling man that wears a lily-white shirt.
6. I would not marry a miner, that’s always in the coal;
I’d rather marry the gambling man, that carries the lumps of gold,
That carries the lumps of gold, that carries the lumps of gold,
I would rather marry the gambling man that carries the lumps of gold.
7. His pockets lined with silver, and the lorings (and an orange) in his hand,
The love I have for the gambling man no human tongue can tell,
No human tongue can tell, no human tongue can tell,
The love I have for the gambling man no human tongue can tell."
Track 2. JIMMIE JUDD, traditional, collected from Charles S. Brink by Samuel P. Bayard and Phil R. Jack, 1948.
1. Come all you daunted heroes, that plow the restless deep,
And think of them that beneath the deep do sleep.
It was of as fine a young man as e'er the sun shone on
Beneath the Bonshee River, where he was drown-ed on.
2.Oh, Jimmie Judd was the young man's name, that is drownded below Dunthrew
Where he got on to break a jam, and with it, he went through.
3. But in spite of his activity his precious life to save,
In vain was his exertion; he met a watery grave
4. So early the next morning, the boatmen all went down.
They searched the deep in ev-rye place, this young man for to find.
They search the deep in ev-rye place where the currents swiftly fly.
A fisher boy was standing by and his drownded body spied.
3. The girl that loved him dearly, she cries, "I am undone,"
While his distracted mother, she crise, "My darling son!
O may he rest in paradise, how happy may he be,
May heaven be his kingdom for all eternity."
1. Come all you daunted heroes, that plow the restless deep,
And think of them that beneath the deep do sleep.
It was of as fine a young man as e'er the sun shone on
Beneath the Bonshee River, where he was drown-ed on.
2.Oh, Jimmie Judd was the young man's name, that is drownded below Dunthrew
Where he got on to break a jam, and with it, he went through.
3. But in spite of his activity his precious life to save,
In vain was his exertion; he met a watery grave
4. So early the next morning, the boatmen all went down.
They searched the deep in ev-rye place, this young man for to find.
They search the deep in ev-rye place where the currents swiftly fly.
A fisher boy was standing by and his drownded body spied.
3. The girl that loved him dearly, she cries, "I am undone,"
While his distracted mother, she crise, "My darling son!
O may he rest in paradise, how happy may he be,
May heaven be his kingdom for all eternity."
Track 3. YOUNG EDMUND IN THE LOWLANDS LOW, traditional, collected from Charles S. Brink by Samuel P. Bayard and Phil R. Jack, in 1949. Mr. Brink sang the emotional core of a much longer ballad in England and Scotland. Beth restored the second half of the second stanza. See the note at "Charming Beauty Bright."
1. "O Mother, dearest Mother, come tell to me the right,
It's what became of the sailor boy who come to stay last night."
"He's dead, dear daughter, he's dead, and his gold will make a show,
We'll send his fair body a-sinking down in the lowlands low."
Refrain: "His body was always in motion, and I hope his soul got rest,
The fish all in the ocean swims over my true loves breast,
The ship all in the ocean, that's tossing to and fro,
It minds me of my Edmund, that sailed the lowlands low.
2. "O Father, cruel Father, you'll die a public show,
For the killing of young Edmund, that sailed the lowlands low.
How cruel were my parents to murder Edmund so
To steal the gold of one so bold that sailed the lowlands low."
1. "O Mother, dearest Mother, come tell to me the right,
It's what became of the sailor boy who come to stay last night."
"He's dead, dear daughter, he's dead, and his gold will make a show,
We'll send his fair body a-sinking down in the lowlands low."
Refrain: "His body was always in motion, and I hope his soul got rest,
The fish all in the ocean swims over my true loves breast,
The ship all in the ocean, that's tossing to and fro,
It minds me of my Edmund, that sailed the lowlands low.
2. "O Father, cruel Father, you'll die a public show,
For the killing of young Edmund, that sailed the lowlands low.
How cruel were my parents to murder Edmund so
To steal the gold of one so bold that sailed the lowlands low."
Track 4. TIPTOE FINE | KEEP YOUR FEET OUT OF THE SAND, tunes from southwestern Pennsylvania. The first is related to "Pretty Betty Martin." The A part is in the Dorian mode, while the B part shifts to Mixolydian. Both are quirky cakewalks. Sam Bayard collected Tiptoe Fine from John L. Tustin, fiddler, Rural Valley, Armstrong County Pennsylvania, 1944, and Keep Your Feet Out of the Sand from James D. Smalley, fiddler, Donora, Washington County, Pennsylvania, 1944. Mr. Tustin learned his tunes in the Westmoreland County mountains, not far from Beth's hometown.
Track 5. YOU MURDERED YOUR LOVE IN THE HALL (Young Hunting), as sung by Hannah Gatts Rogers, Washington, Greene County, Pennsylvania, in the 1930s, and again in 1949. Mrs. Rogers was born in 1881, and learned her songs from her mother, a native of West Virginia. Friends said that she sounded just like her mother. In 2012, Mrs. Rogers' last surviving child remarked that her mother could sing a song “frontwards and backwards.”
1. She thought it was her brother John
A-just returning home,
But who should it be but her own true lover
Riding so late in the night.
2. “Light off, light off, light off,” says she,
“Light off and stay all night,
And you shall have a chair of the charcoal clear,
And a candle to give you light.
3. “I can’t light off, I won’t light off,
I can’t light off at all,
For the prettier lady than 10 of thee
Lives in Lord Barney’s hall.”
4. He stoop-ed down in the stirrups so low
To kiss her red rosy cheeks
And her penknife being so long and so sharp,
She wounded him full deep.
5. She called her hirelings out,
She called ’em up by twos
Saying “There is a dead man in the hall
And it’s time he was carried away.”
6. She took him by his long yellow locks
And her hirelings [?] his feet,
And they plunged him into a deep flowing well
Full fifty fathoms deep.
7. As they were returning home
She heard a voice in the air,
Saying, “Go home, home, and pay your hirelings
Their wages for your dear.”
8. “Come down, come down, my pretty parrot bird,
Come down, land low at my knee,
And your cage shall be made of the beaten yellow gold
And hung in the green willow tree.”
9. “I can’t land down, I won’t come down,
I can’t come down at all,
For fear that you might murder me
As you murdered your love in the hall.”
10. It’s if I had my bow and arrows here
And had them fixed on a string,
I’d pierce a dart through your bold heart
As you sit on that limb.”
11. “Oh, it’s if you had your bow and arrows here
And had them fixed on a string,
I’d take my wings and fly away
To some lonesome valley green.”
1. She thought it was her brother John
A-just returning home,
But who should it be but her own true lover
Riding so late in the night.
2. “Light off, light off, light off,” says she,
“Light off and stay all night,
And you shall have a chair of the charcoal clear,
And a candle to give you light.
3. “I can’t light off, I won’t light off,
I can’t light off at all,
For the prettier lady than 10 of thee
Lives in Lord Barney’s hall.”
4. He stoop-ed down in the stirrups so low
To kiss her red rosy cheeks
And her penknife being so long and so sharp,
She wounded him full deep.
5. She called her hirelings out,
She called ’em up by twos
Saying “There is a dead man in the hall
And it’s time he was carried away.”
6. She took him by his long yellow locks
And her hirelings [?] his feet,
And they plunged him into a deep flowing well
Full fifty fathoms deep.
7. As they were returning home
She heard a voice in the air,
Saying, “Go home, home, and pay your hirelings
Their wages for your dear.”
8. “Come down, come down, my pretty parrot bird,
Come down, land low at my knee,
And your cage shall be made of the beaten yellow gold
And hung in the green willow tree.”
9. “I can’t land down, I won’t come down,
I can’t come down at all,
For fear that you might murder me
As you murdered your love in the hall.”
10. It’s if I had my bow and arrows here
And had them fixed on a string,
I’d pierce a dart through your bold heart
As you sit on that limb.”
11. “Oh, it’s if you had your bow and arrows here
And had them fixed on a string,
I’d take my wings and fly away
To some lonesome valley green.”
Track 6. FAREWELL SWEET MARY, as sung by Hannah Gatts Rogers, 1949. (Please see notes at track 5.)
1. Away 'crost the country a -court-ing I'll go,
Intending to marry sweet Mary I know.
Refrain: Fare ye well, Sweet Mary, I'll bid you adieu;
I'm ruined forever by the loving of you.
2. My love she won't have me, as I understand.
She wants a freeholder, but I've got no land,
But I can maintain her on silver and gold,
And as many a nice things as my love's house can hold.
3. Her parents don't like me because I am poor.
I'll strive to maintain her - what can I do more?
Fare y' well, sweet Mary, I'll bid you adieu,
I'm ruined forever by the loving of you.
1. Away 'crost the country a -court-ing I'll go,
Intending to marry sweet Mary I know.
Refrain: Fare ye well, Sweet Mary, I'll bid you adieu;
I'm ruined forever by the loving of you.
2. My love she won't have me, as I understand.
She wants a freeholder, but I've got no land,
But I can maintain her on silver and gold,
And as many a nice things as my love's house can hold.
3. Her parents don't like me because I am poor.
I'll strive to maintain her - what can I do more?
Fare y' well, sweet Mary, I'll bid you adieu,
I'm ruined forever by the loving of you.
Track 7. KEEP THE ARK A-MOVING (spiritual), as sung by Hannah Bayles Sayre, 1862-1955, Washington (formerly Greene) County, Pennsylvania, and Mary Ann Pierson Rogers, born c. 1870, New Freeport, Greene County, Pennsylvania. in the 1930s. Mrs. Sayre, whose father was a worker of magic, was one of Bayard’s most colorful source singers. Her rural childhood included camp meetings. Mrs. Rogers was a fiddler and singer who recalled her parents’, aunt’s, and uncle’s singing hymns and spirituals. Like many spirituals, each stanza is identical, except that each is addressed to different members of the congregation: mothera, fathers, sisters, brothers, and children.
Now, mothers, if you're willing, we'll keep the ark a-moving, and we'll pass over Jurdan bye and bye,
And we'll pass over Jurdan bye and bye, and we'll pass over Jurdan bye and bye.
Where the streets is lined with gold, and the gates is set with pearl,
And we'll pass over Jurdan bye and bye, and we'll pass over Jurdan bye and bye.
Now, mothers, if you're willing, we'll keep the ark a-moving, and we'll pass over Jurdan bye and bye,
And we'll pass over Jurdan bye and bye, and we'll pass over Jurdan bye and bye.
Where the streets is lined with gold, and the gates is set with pearl,
And we'll pass over Jurdan bye and bye, and we'll pass over Jurdan bye and bye.
Track 8. FATHER, DEAR FATHER (Young and Growing), as sung by Charles Scott Brink, 1861-1950, near Smicksburg, Indiana County, Pennsylvania, August 12, 1948. Other versions of this song are well known in Scotland, England, Ireland, and North America.
1. Father, dear Father, you've done to me a wrong
You've married me a man, he's entirely too young.
I'm twice twelve, and he's but thirteen.
He's young but he's daily growing.
2. Daughter, dear daughter, I've done to you no wrong,
I've married you a man, he's the king's richest son,
And if you prove faithful, you'll be his dear bride.
He's young but he's daily growing.
2. Father, dear Father, love, don't you think it's best,
We'll send him to college a year or two at least.
We'll bind a red ribbon all around his waist
To let the girls know that he's married.
3. We'll buy him a shirt of the cambric so red,
I'll stitch it all 'round with these round hands of mine,
I'll stitch it all 'round with these round hands of mine.
He's young but he's daily growing.
4. As she was setting sewing in her father's hall,
There she saw schoolmates a-playin' with their ball,
Her husband's among them, the flower of them all.
He's young but he's daily growing.
5. At the age of thirteen he was a married man,
At the age of fourteen his first child was born.
At the age of sixteen, his grave it was green,
And that put an end to his growing.
1. Father, dear Father, you've done to me a wrong
You've married me a man, he's entirely too young.
I'm twice twelve, and he's but thirteen.
He's young but he's daily growing.
2. Daughter, dear daughter, I've done to you no wrong,
I've married you a man, he's the king's richest son,
And if you prove faithful, you'll be his dear bride.
He's young but he's daily growing.
2. Father, dear Father, love, don't you think it's best,
We'll send him to college a year or two at least.
We'll bind a red ribbon all around his waist
To let the girls know that he's married.
3. We'll buy him a shirt of the cambric so red,
I'll stitch it all 'round with these round hands of mine,
I'll stitch it all 'round with these round hands of mine.
He's young but he's daily growing.
4. As she was setting sewing in her father's hall,
There she saw schoolmates a-playin' with their ball,
Her husband's among them, the flower of them all.
He's young but he's daily growing.
5. At the age of thirteen he was a married man,
At the age of fourteen his first child was born.
At the age of sixteen, his grave it was green,
And that put an end to his growing.
Track 9. KATE AND HER HORNS (song) | DANCE TUNE, Professor Bayard collected the song from Margaret Meighen Kearny, Wetzel County, West Virginia (formerly Greene County, Pennsylvania), in the 1930s. Mrs. Kearny was part of a musical Irish family, the Meighans. The jig is #468 from Bayard’s Dance to the Fiddle, March to the Fife, as played by Mary Ann Pierson Rogers, New Freeport, Greene County, Pennsylvania, in the 1930s
Track 10. LOWLANDS AWAY | THE NIGHTINGALE, a poignant Scottish song flows into the “The Nightingale,” as sung by Fillmore Peter “Pete” Provance, 1880-1971, Fayette County, Pennsylvania, 1943. Professor Bayard said that songs about seafaring are rare in Pennsylvania. There are many songs that mention sailors, but few that detail experiences aboard ship.
Track 11. UNDER THE GREEN WILLOW TREE is a version of "The Maid Freed from the Gallows," Child 95. Ethel Augusta “Gusty” Britton Gump, 1894-1963, Greene County, Pennsylvania, sang it for Professor Bayard in the 1930s.
Track 12. BARBARA ALLAN | THE BACKSIDE OF ALBANY | THE BOYNE WATER, three American versions of the same Irish reel. The first and last are versions of #317 in Dance to the Fiddle, March to the Fife, collected in Pennsylvania from Thomas J. Hoge, Pittsburgh, Allegheny County, 1944, and Hiram J. Horner, Monessen, Westmoreland County, 1960, respectively. The middle tune is the air to an 1815 song by Micah Hawkins. According to local lore, playing or humming "The Boyne Water" could goad an Irishman to fight, and once incited manslaughter.
"Track 13. HOME DEAREST HOME (song) | COLONEL MONTGOMERY | STATEN ISLAND - Home Dearest Home was collected from Charles Scott Brink, 1861-1950, near Smicksburg, Indiana County, Pennsylvania, August 12, 1948. We perform Staten Island as played by Hiram Clinton Horner, born 1880, master fifer, Monessen, Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania, 1960. In the United States hornpipes frequently are played with a straight rhythm like reels. Colonel Montgomery is a traditional Scottish strathspey. Perhaps our sailor traveled to America from Scotland, where he might have sung "Hame Dearie Hame."
Track 14. CHARMING BEAUTY BRIGHT (When I was youth I courted me a wife), traditional, collected from Charles S. Brink by Samuel Bayard and Phil R. Jack, near Smicksburg, Indiana County, Pennsylvania, in 1948. Brink was born in 1862. He was a farmer. When Professor Bayard met him, the aged Mr. Brink could not longer play his fiddle, but he was a remarkable singer, whose repertoire encompassed musical traditions of the north and south. Beth sings the altered tune of the seventh stanza as Mr. Brink rendered it.
This song has been collected in many parts of the United States, and is sometimes called "The Lover's Lament."
1. When I was young I courted me a wife,
Thinking to live a sweet and sober life.
I courted her for love, and her heart it did obtain,
So why do you think I’d any reason to complain?
2. But when her parents came this to know, that I was a-courting their only daughter dear,
They lock-ed her up, and they kep’ her so secure that I never got sight of my true love any more.
3. Then to her window I thought I would go to see if I could forget my love or no,
But when I came there, she sighed and she cried, saying, “I never can forget you until the day I die.”
4. Then to the wars I thought I would go to see if I could forget my love or no,
But when I came there the armor shone so bright, and it put me in mind of my own dear heart’s delight.
5. The first long year I serv-ed as a king; the second long year I return-ed home again.
Her mother saw me coming and she wrang her hands and cried, saying, “My daughter loved you dearly and for your sake she died.”
6. There I stood like a man that was slain, through tears rolling down, like the ty-ar-ants of rain,
Crying, “Oh! Oh! Oh! That grief I cannot bear, since my true love’s in her grave, and I’m longing to be there!”
7. I would give you all advice, if I wasn’t rather young: old folks and friends, in such cases, hold their tongue.
This song has been collected in many parts of the United States, and is sometimes called "The Lover's Lament."
1. When I was young I courted me a wife,
Thinking to live a sweet and sober life.
I courted her for love, and her heart it did obtain,
So why do you think I’d any reason to complain?
2. But when her parents came this to know, that I was a-courting their only daughter dear,
They lock-ed her up, and they kep’ her so secure that I never got sight of my true love any more.
3. Then to her window I thought I would go to see if I could forget my love or no,
But when I came there, she sighed and she cried, saying, “I never can forget you until the day I die.”
4. Then to the wars I thought I would go to see if I could forget my love or no,
But when I came there the armor shone so bright, and it put me in mind of my own dear heart’s delight.
5. The first long year I serv-ed as a king; the second long year I return-ed home again.
Her mother saw me coming and she wrang her hands and cried, saying, “My daughter loved you dearly and for your sake she died.”
6. There I stood like a man that was slain, through tears rolling down, like the ty-ar-ants of rain,
Crying, “Oh! Oh! Oh! That grief I cannot bear, since my true love’s in her grave, and I’m longing to be there!”
7. I would give you all advice, if I wasn’t rather young: old folks and friends, in such cases, hold their tongue.
Samuel Preston Bayard
Samuel Preston Bayard, 1908-1997, was an internationally acclaimed folklorist. He collected songs, ballads, spirituals, and fiddle and fife tunes, 1928-1963, mostly from southwestern Pennsylvania and northwestern West Virginia, in Northern and North Central Appalachia. Although he published two volumes of tunes, Hill Country Tunes and Dance to the Fiddle, March to the Fife, he died before The Samuel Bayard Folk Song Collection, comprising over 500 separate songs, could be brought to publication. Professor Bayard, who was born in Pittsburgh, and who had family ties to Greene and Westmoreland Counties, taught at the Pennsylvania State University, Centre County, 1945-1973. This album includes a few of the songs, ballads, and spirituals that Beth continues to research through the Penn State libraries and beyond.
EP, Songs from Laurel Hill, released March, 2015, featuring six tracks from the Samuel P. Bayard Folk Song Collection:
Download Songs from Laurel Hill by clicking here.
1 Father, Dear Father (Young and Growing; see above)
2 Jimmie Judd (see above)
3 Kate and Her Horns (see above)
4 Farewell, Sweet Mary (a 2015 live recording; for lyrics, see above)
5 Edmund in the Lowlands Low (a 2015 live recording; lyrics, see below)
6 The Nightingale (see above )
This EP was recorded and mixed at AMP Studios, McSherrystown, PA by Paul Chiacchierini assisted by Greg Rocca and mastered at AMP Studios by Dave Bowden. Tara Barnabei designed the cover using a 1922 photograph of Beth’s grandmother (Margaret’s great-grandmother), Elsie Gleave Donaldson, West-moreland County, PA. Elsie was a new wife at age 16.
Chris Barnabei – acoustic bass
Beth Folkemer – lead and backing vocals, guitar, mountain dulcimer
Margaret Folkemer – lead and backing vocals, pennywhistle
Stephen Folkemer – backing vocals, concertina
Download Songs from Laurel Hill by clicking here.
1 Father, Dear Father (Young and Growing; see above)
2 Jimmie Judd (see above)
3 Kate and Her Horns (see above)
4 Farewell, Sweet Mary (a 2015 live recording; for lyrics, see above)
5 Edmund in the Lowlands Low (a 2015 live recording; lyrics, see below)
6 The Nightingale (see above )
This EP was recorded and mixed at AMP Studios, McSherrystown, PA by Paul Chiacchierini assisted by Greg Rocca and mastered at AMP Studios by Dave Bowden. Tara Barnabei designed the cover using a 1922 photograph of Beth’s grandmother (Margaret’s great-grandmother), Elsie Gleave Donaldson, West-moreland County, PA. Elsie was a new wife at age 16.
Chris Barnabei – acoustic bass
Beth Folkemer – lead and backing vocals, guitar, mountain dulcimer
Margaret Folkemer – lead and backing vocals, pennywhistle
Stephen Folkemer – backing vocals, concertina
Download Songs from Laurel Hill by clicking here.
Lyrics from Dearest Home (self-titled album)
- Dearest Home's first album includes thirteen tracks with authentic Civil War Era music, as well as three Northern Appalachian folk songs plus three traditional tunes, collected by Samuel P. Bayard in Southwestern Pennsylvania. Order or download Dearest Home by clicking here.
THE BATTLE CRY OF FREEDOM (1864 edition), George F. Root
1. Yes we’ll rally round the flag, boys, we’ll rally once again, shouting the battle cry of freedom,
We will rally from the hillside we’ll gather from the plain, shouting the battle cry of freedom.
Refrain: The Union forever, Hurrah boys, hurrah!
Down with the Traitor, Up with the Star,
While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.
2. We are springing to the call of our Brothers gone before, Shouting the battle cry of freedom,
And we’ll fill the vacant ranks with a million freemen more, shouting the battle cry of freedom.
3. We will welcome to our numbers the loyal true and brave, shouting the battle cry of freedom,
And altho’ they may be poor not a man shall be a slave, Shouting the battle cry of freedom.
4. So we’re springing to the call from the East and from the West, Shouting the battle cry of
freedom,
And we’ll hurl the rebel crew from the land we love the best, Shouting the battle cry of freedom.
1. Yes we’ll rally round the flag, boys, we’ll rally once again, shouting the battle cry of freedom,
We will rally from the hillside we’ll gather from the plain, shouting the battle cry of freedom.
Refrain: The Union forever, Hurrah boys, hurrah!
Down with the Traitor, Up with the Star,
While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.
2. We are springing to the call of our Brothers gone before, Shouting the battle cry of freedom,
And we’ll fill the vacant ranks with a million freemen more, shouting the battle cry of freedom.
3. We will welcome to our numbers the loyal true and brave, shouting the battle cry of freedom,
And altho’ they may be poor not a man shall be a slave, Shouting the battle cry of freedom.
4. So we’re springing to the call from the East and from the West, Shouting the battle cry of
freedom,
And we’ll hurl the rebel crew from the land we love the best, Shouting the battle cry of freedom.
WE WAIT BENEATH THE FURNACE BLAST (Stanzas 4, 6 & 8 are omitted for this performance.), John Greenleaf Whittier, 1861/William Oscar Perkins, 1862
1. We wait beneath the furnace blast The pangs of transformation:
Not painlessly does God recast And mould anew the nation.
Hot burns the fire Where wrongs expire, Nor spares the hand That from the land
Uproot the ancient evil.
2. The hand-breadth cloud the sages fear’d Its bloody rain is dropping;
The poison plant the fathers spared All else is overtopping
East, West, South, North, It curses earth; All justice dies, And fraud and lies
Live only in its shadow.
3. What gives the wheat-field blades of steel! What points the rebel cannon!
What sets the roaring rabble’s heel On the old star-spangled pennon!
What breaks the oath Of the men of the South! What whets the knife For the union’s life!
Hark to the answer, SLAVERY!
5. What though the cast out spirit tear The nation in his going!
We who have shared the guilt must share The pangs of his o’er-throwing!
Whate’er the loss, Whate’er the cross, Shall they complain Of present pain
Who trust in God’s hereafter!
7. Above the maddening cry for blood, Above the wild war-drumming,
Let Freedom’s voice be heard, with good The evil overcoming.
Give prayer and purse To stay the Curse Whose wrong we share, Whose shame we bear,
Whose end shall gladden Heaven!
9. Then let the selfish lip be dumb And hushed the breath of sighing;
Before the joy of peace, must come The pains of purifying.
God give us grace Each in his place To bear his lot, And murmur’ng not,
Endure and wait and labor!
1. We wait beneath the furnace blast The pangs of transformation:
Not painlessly does God recast And mould anew the nation.
Hot burns the fire Where wrongs expire, Nor spares the hand That from the land
Uproot the ancient evil.
2. The hand-breadth cloud the sages fear’d Its bloody rain is dropping;
The poison plant the fathers spared All else is overtopping
East, West, South, North, It curses earth; All justice dies, And fraud and lies
Live only in its shadow.
3. What gives the wheat-field blades of steel! What points the rebel cannon!
What sets the roaring rabble’s heel On the old star-spangled pennon!
What breaks the oath Of the men of the South! What whets the knife For the union’s life!
Hark to the answer, SLAVERY!
5. What though the cast out spirit tear The nation in his going!
We who have shared the guilt must share The pangs of his o’er-throwing!
Whate’er the loss, Whate’er the cross, Shall they complain Of present pain
Who trust in God’s hereafter!
7. Above the maddening cry for blood, Above the wild war-drumming,
Let Freedom’s voice be heard, with good The evil overcoming.
Give prayer and purse To stay the Curse Whose wrong we share, Whose shame we bear,
Whose end shall gladden Heaven!
9. Then let the selfish lip be dumb And hushed the breath of sighing;
Before the joy of peace, must come The pains of purifying.
God give us grace Each in his place To bear his lot, And murmur’ng not,
Endure and wait and labor!
RIDING A RAID, traditional, Civl War Era
1. 'Tis old Stonewall the Rebel that leans on his sword, and while we are mounting prays low to the
Lord:
"Now each cavalier that loves honor and right, let him follow the feather of Stuart tonight."
Refrain: Come tighten your girth and slacken your rein;
Come buckle your blanket and holster again;
Try the click of your trigger and balance your blade,
For he must ride sure that goes riding a raid.
2. Now gallop, now gallop to swim or to ford! Old Stonewall, still watching, prays low to the Lord:
"Goodbye, dear old Rebel! The river's not wide, and Maryland's lights in her window to guide."
3. There's a man in the White House with blood on his mouth!
If there's knaves in the North, there are braves in the South.
We are three thousand horses, and not one afraid; we are three thousand sabres and not a dull blade.
4. Then gallop, then gallop by ravines and rocks! Who would bar us the way take his toll in hard knocks;
For with these points of steel, on the line of the Penn, We have made some fine strokes -- and we'll make 'em again.
1. 'Tis old Stonewall the Rebel that leans on his sword, and while we are mounting prays low to the
Lord:
"Now each cavalier that loves honor and right, let him follow the feather of Stuart tonight."
Refrain: Come tighten your girth and slacken your rein;
Come buckle your blanket and holster again;
Try the click of your trigger and balance your blade,
For he must ride sure that goes riding a raid.
2. Now gallop, now gallop to swim or to ford! Old Stonewall, still watching, prays low to the Lord:
"Goodbye, dear old Rebel! The river's not wide, and Maryland's lights in her window to guide."
3. There's a man in the White House with blood on his mouth!
If there's knaves in the North, there are braves in the South.
We are three thousand horses, and not one afraid; we are three thousand sabres and not a dull blade.
4. Then gallop, then gallop by ravines and rocks! Who would bar us the way take his toll in hard knocks;
For with these points of steel, on the line of the Penn, We have made some fine strokes -- and we'll make 'em again.
JOHN BROWNS'S MARCH/THE GIRL I LEFT BEHIND ME/ON THE ROAD TO BOSTON/THE SNOUTS AND EARS OF AMERICA/KINGDOM COMING
All of the tunes in this set were played during the American Civil War, with the possible exception of the traditional tune, "The Snouts and Ears of America," which Samuel Bayard collected from fiddler Sarah Gray Armstrong, near Derry, PA in 1943. It may be a reworking of "The Irish Washerwoman." "The Girl I Left Behind Me" and "On the Road to Boston" were known at least as early as the 18th century, but remained current during the Civil War. The last tune in the set is from Henry Clay Work's 1862 song, "Kingdom Coming." Today old time fiddlers play a shortened version called "The Year of Jubilo."
All of the tunes and song were played and sung in Pennsylvania and/or West Virginia when Bayard made his collection in the early to mid 20th century.
BARBARA ALLEN/THE BACK SIDE OF ALBANY/THE BOYNE WATER, traditional and a traditional adaptation of Micah Hawkins' 1815 song. (Pictured is the 1863 Conn Fiddle at the Smithsonian Institution.)
All of the tunes in this set are versions of the Irish reel, "The Boyne Water." Hawkin's early minstrel song passed into the tradtional tune repertoire by the mid-18th century. The other two tunes are from Bayard's fiddle and fife tune collection, Dance to the Fiddle, March to the Fife.
CARRY ME BACK TO OLD VIRGINNY, Briggs Banjo Instructor, c. 1855
This banjo tune is not related to the state song of Virginia. It was derived from "De Floating Scow of Old Virginny," which was published by Charles "Cool" White, one of the more important figures in early minstrelsy, in Philadelphia, PA, in 1847. The title quickly morphed into the one in Briggs' book. Chuck is playing a reproduction banjo based on a design by William E. Boucher, Jr, or Baltimore, MD, the most prolific early banjo maker. Beth accompanies Chuck on a reproduction Takamine guitar similar to instruments from the 1850s.
This banjo tune is not related to the state song of Virginia. It was derived from "De Floating Scow of Old Virginny," which was published by Charles "Cool" White, one of the more important figures in early minstrelsy, in Philadelphia, PA, in 1847. The title quickly morphed into the one in Briggs' book. Chuck is playing a reproduction banjo based on a design by William E. Boucher, Jr, or Baltimore, MD, the most prolific early banjo maker. Beth accompanies Chuck on a reproduction Takamine guitar similar to instruments from the 1850s.
THE SPANISH WALTZ, traditional, arranged Stephen P. Folkemer
Social dancing was extremely popular in nineteenth century America, even during the Civil War years. The Spanish Waltz was a particular dance form, and had nothing to do with Spain.
Social dancing was extremely popular in nineteenth century America, even during the Civil War years. The Spanish Waltz was a particular dance form, and had nothing to do with Spain.
WONDROUS LOVE, traditional (first in print in 1811)
Dearest Home's recording of this folk hymn, sung in its shape note setting from The Sacred Harp, Philadelphia, 1861, begins with singing the shapes, fa (triangle), sol (oval), la (square), mi (diamond).
The shape note system of teaching and learning to sing helps singers to recognize the place of a note in its scale by means of differently shaped note heads. In earlier shape note hymnal editions, most arrangements include three parts, treble, tenor and bass. Men and women often sing the same part in their own voice ranges. In this recording, Charles is singing the tenor melody, with Beth joining him, her voice sounding an octave above Charles' voice. Margaret is singing treble and Stephen is singing bass.
At the time of the Civil War, although shape note singing had fallen out of fashion in some areas, such as New England, it remained popular in many places, and it's still practiced today. For more information visit fasola.org.
1. What wondrous love is this! oh! my soul! oh my soul! What wondrous love is this, oh! my soul!
What wondrous love is this! That caused the Lord of bliss,
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul, for my soul, To bear the dreadful curse for my soul.
2. When I was sinking down, sinking down, sinking down, when I was sinking down, sinking down,
When I was sinking down, beneath God’s righteous frown,
Christ laid aside his crown, for my soul, for my soul, Christ laid aside his crown, for my soul.
3. Ye friends of Zion’s King, join his praise, join his praise, ye friends of Zion’s King, join his praise.
Ye friends of Zion’s King, with hearts and voices sing,
And strike each tuneful string in his praise, in his praise, and strike each tuneful string in his praise.
4. To God and to the Lamb I will sing, I will sing, to God and to the Lamb, I will sing,
To God and to the Lamb, who is the great I AM,
While millions join the theme, I will sing, I will sing,
While millions join the theme, I will sing.
5. And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing on, I’ll sing on, and when from death I’m free, I’ll sing on,
And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing and joyful be;
And through eternity I’ll sing on, I’ll sing on, and through eternity I’ll sing on.
Dearest Home's recording of this folk hymn, sung in its shape note setting from The Sacred Harp, Philadelphia, 1861, begins with singing the shapes, fa (triangle), sol (oval), la (square), mi (diamond).
The shape note system of teaching and learning to sing helps singers to recognize the place of a note in its scale by means of differently shaped note heads. In earlier shape note hymnal editions, most arrangements include three parts, treble, tenor and bass. Men and women often sing the same part in their own voice ranges. In this recording, Charles is singing the tenor melody, with Beth joining him, her voice sounding an octave above Charles' voice. Margaret is singing treble and Stephen is singing bass.
At the time of the Civil War, although shape note singing had fallen out of fashion in some areas, such as New England, it remained popular in many places, and it's still practiced today. For more information visit fasola.org.
1. What wondrous love is this! oh! my soul! oh my soul! What wondrous love is this, oh! my soul!
What wondrous love is this! That caused the Lord of bliss,
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul, for my soul, To bear the dreadful curse for my soul.
2. When I was sinking down, sinking down, sinking down, when I was sinking down, sinking down,
When I was sinking down, beneath God’s righteous frown,
Christ laid aside his crown, for my soul, for my soul, Christ laid aside his crown, for my soul.
3. Ye friends of Zion’s King, join his praise, join his praise, ye friends of Zion’s King, join his praise.
Ye friends of Zion’s King, with hearts and voices sing,
And strike each tuneful string in his praise, in his praise, and strike each tuneful string in his praise.
4. To God and to the Lamb I will sing, I will sing, to God and to the Lamb, I will sing,
To God and to the Lamb, who is the great I AM,
While millions join the theme, I will sing, I will sing,
While millions join the theme, I will sing.
5. And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing on, I’ll sing on, and when from death I’m free, I’ll sing on,
And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing and joyful be;
And through eternity I’ll sing on, I’ll sing on, and through eternity I’ll sing on.
REST FOR THE WEARY, Samuel Young Harmer/the Rev. J. W. Dadmun
Nurses diaries report that "Rest for the Weary" was sung to comfort wounded soldiers after the Battles of Antietam and Gettysburg. Nurses and wounded soldiers sang this hymn in the hospital at Christ Evangelical Lutheran Church, Gettysburg, after a brief religious service in July, 1863, during which five men died.
This track was recorded live in Christ Church, Gettysburg, where it was sung 150 years earlier. You can hear the stops and action of the gloriously-out-of-tune nineteenth century reed organ. The setting is from Bradbury's Golden Chain of Sabbath School Melodies, published in 1861.
Stanzas two and five are omitted in this performance, but are shown in brackets.
1. In the Christian’s home in glory, There remains a land of rest,
There my Saviour’s gone before me, To fulfill my soul’s request;
Refrain: There is rest for the weary, There is rest for the weary,
There is rest for the weary There is rest for you–
On the other side of Jordan, In the sweet fields of Eden,
Where the tree of life is blooming, There is rest for you.
2. [He is fitting up my mansion, Which eternally shall stand,
For my stay shall not be transient, In that holy, happy land.]
3. Pain and sickness ne’er shall enter, Grief nor woe my lot shall share;
But, in that celestial center, I a crown of life shall wear.
4. Death itself shall then be vanquished, And his sting shall be withdrawn;
Shout for gladness, O ye ransomed! Hail with joy the rising morn.
5. Sing, O sing, ye heirs of glory; Shout your triumph as you go;
Zion’s gates will open for you, you shall find an entrance through.
Nurses diaries report that "Rest for the Weary" was sung to comfort wounded soldiers after the Battles of Antietam and Gettysburg. Nurses and wounded soldiers sang this hymn in the hospital at Christ Evangelical Lutheran Church, Gettysburg, after a brief religious service in July, 1863, during which five men died.
This track was recorded live in Christ Church, Gettysburg, where it was sung 150 years earlier. You can hear the stops and action of the gloriously-out-of-tune nineteenth century reed organ. The setting is from Bradbury's Golden Chain of Sabbath School Melodies, published in 1861.
Stanzas two and five are omitted in this performance, but are shown in brackets.
1. In the Christian’s home in glory, There remains a land of rest,
There my Saviour’s gone before me, To fulfill my soul’s request;
Refrain: There is rest for the weary, There is rest for the weary,
There is rest for the weary There is rest for you–
On the other side of Jordan, In the sweet fields of Eden,
Where the tree of life is blooming, There is rest for you.
2. [He is fitting up my mansion, Which eternally shall stand,
For my stay shall not be transient, In that holy, happy land.]
3. Pain and sickness ne’er shall enter, Grief nor woe my lot shall share;
But, in that celestial center, I a crown of life shall wear.
4. Death itself shall then be vanquished, And his sting shall be withdrawn;
Shout for gladness, O ye ransomed! Hail with joy the rising morn.
5. Sing, O sing, ye heirs of glory; Shout your triumph as you go;
Zion’s gates will open for you, you shall find an entrance through.
THE PICTURE ON THE WALL, Henry Clay Work, 1864
1. ‘Tis noon of night: the sable clouds hang weeping in the sky; alone I sit, where fancies flit like
spectral shadows by.
Me thinks I see familiar forms, and on before them all–
So fair, so calm, so wondrous like, wondrous like the picture on the wall.
Refrain: Among the brave and loyal, how many lov’d ones fall!
Whose friends bereft, have only left, only left a picture on the wall.
2. I hear the press of eager feet, upon my parlor floor, a moment, and my willing arms enclasp my boy once more.
I feel his warm breath on my cheek, but when his name I call
A shadowy finger points me to, points me to his picture on the wall.
3. The moon’s full radiance struggles through, and lights my room once more;
And thus shall heav’n, O heart of mine, thy seeming loss restore.
Its light shall gild the present gloom, and sweeter spells enthrall,
Than that which binds me to this sweet, to this sweet true picture on the wall.
1. ‘Tis noon of night: the sable clouds hang weeping in the sky; alone I sit, where fancies flit like
spectral shadows by.
Me thinks I see familiar forms, and on before them all–
So fair, so calm, so wondrous like, wondrous like the picture on the wall.
Refrain: Among the brave and loyal, how many lov’d ones fall!
Whose friends bereft, have only left, only left a picture on the wall.
2. I hear the press of eager feet, upon my parlor floor, a moment, and my willing arms enclasp my boy once more.
I feel his warm breath on my cheek, but when his name I call
A shadowy finger points me to, points me to his picture on the wall.
3. The moon’s full radiance struggles through, and lights my room once more;
And thus shall heav’n, O heart of mine, thy seeming loss restore.
Its light shall gild the present gloom, and sweeter spells enthrall,
Than that which binds me to this sweet, to this sweet true picture on the wall.
THERE IS A LAND OF PURE DELIGHT (VARINA), Isaace Watts, 1709/George. F. Root, 1859
Isaac Watt's hymns were very popular among soldiers and civilians alike during the Civil War era. Popular composer George F. Root set Watts' text to the tune "Varina" at the end of the 1850s. Dearest Home sings from the period hymnal, Cottage Melodies; a hymn and tune book, for prayers and social meetings and the home circle, edited by William Bradbury and Sylvester Main, and published by Carlton and Porter, New York, 1859. Root's setting paired Watts' six original stanzas into three.
"There is a Land of Pure Delight" was sung by nurses and wounded soldiers at the First Corps hospital at Christ Evangelical Lutheran Church, July 1863, where this track was recorded live almost 150 years later. See the note at "Rest for the Weary" for more.
1. There is a land of pure delight, where saints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night, and pleasures banish pain.
There everlasting spring abides, and never withering flowers:
Death, like a narrow sea, divides this heav’nly land from ours.
2. Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood stand dressed in living green:
So to the Jews old Canaan stood, while Jordan rolled between.
But timorous mortals start and shrink to cross this narrow sea;
And linger, shivering on the brink, and fear to launch away.
3. O could we make our doubts remove, those gloomy thoughts that rise,
And see the Canaan that we love with unbeclouded eyes!
Could we but climb where Moses stood and view the landscape o’er,
Not Jordan’s stream, nor death’s cold flood,
Should fright us from the shore.
Isaac Watt's hymns were very popular among soldiers and civilians alike during the Civil War era. Popular composer George F. Root set Watts' text to the tune "Varina" at the end of the 1850s. Dearest Home sings from the period hymnal, Cottage Melodies; a hymn and tune book, for prayers and social meetings and the home circle, edited by William Bradbury and Sylvester Main, and published by Carlton and Porter, New York, 1859. Root's setting paired Watts' six original stanzas into three.
"There is a Land of Pure Delight" was sung by nurses and wounded soldiers at the First Corps hospital at Christ Evangelical Lutheran Church, July 1863, where this track was recorded live almost 150 years later. See the note at "Rest for the Weary" for more.
1. There is a land of pure delight, where saints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night, and pleasures banish pain.
There everlasting spring abides, and never withering flowers:
Death, like a narrow sea, divides this heav’nly land from ours.
2. Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood stand dressed in living green:
So to the Jews old Canaan stood, while Jordan rolled between.
But timorous mortals start and shrink to cross this narrow sea;
And linger, shivering on the brink, and fear to launch away.
3. O could we make our doubts remove, those gloomy thoughts that rise,
And see the Canaan that we love with unbeclouded eyes!
Could we but climb where Moses stood and view the landscape o’er,
Not Jordan’s stream, nor death’s cold flood,
Should fright us from the shore.
The VACANT CHAIR (Thanksgiving 1861), Henry S. Washburn/George F. Root
1. We shall meet, but we shall miss him, there will be one vacant chair;
We shall linger to caress him while we breathe our evening prayer.
When a year ago we gathered, joy was in his mild blue eye,
But a golden cord is severed, and our hopes in ruin lie.
Refrain: We shall meet, but we shall miss him, there will be one vacant chair;
We shall linger to caress him when we breathe our evening prayer.
2. At our fireside, sad and lonely, often will the bosom swell
At remembrance of the story how our noble Willie fell;
How he strove to bear our banner thro’ the thickest of the fight,
And uphold our country’s honor, in the strength of manhood’s might.
3. True they tell us wreaths of glory ever more will deck his brow,
But this soothes the anguish only sweeping o’er our heart-strings now.
Sleep today, o early fallen, in thy green and narrow bed,
Dirges from the pine and cypress mingle with the tears we shed.
1. We shall meet, but we shall miss him, there will be one vacant chair;
We shall linger to caress him while we breathe our evening prayer.
When a year ago we gathered, joy was in his mild blue eye,
But a golden cord is severed, and our hopes in ruin lie.
Refrain: We shall meet, but we shall miss him, there will be one vacant chair;
We shall linger to caress him when we breathe our evening prayer.
2. At our fireside, sad and lonely, often will the bosom swell
At remembrance of the story how our noble Willie fell;
How he strove to bear our banner thro’ the thickest of the fight,
And uphold our country’s honor, in the strength of manhood’s might.
3. True they tell us wreaths of glory ever more will deck his brow,
But this soothes the anguish only sweeping o’er our heart-strings now.
Sleep today, o early fallen, in thy green and narrow bed,
Dirges from the pine and cypress mingle with the tears we shed.
THE BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC, Julia Ward Howe/adapted from traditional, "Say Brothers Will You Meet Us" and "john Brown's Body," by William Steffe, 1862
BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC
1. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He has loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword, His truth is marching on.
Refrain: Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Glory Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.
2. I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the ev’ning dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps, His day is marching on.
3. I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
“As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;
Let the Hero born of woman crush the serpent with his heel, since God is marching on.
4. He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat:
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat:
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on.
5. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea;
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me.
As he died to make men holy, let us live to make men free, while God is marching on.
BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC
1. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He has loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword, His truth is marching on.
Refrain: Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Glory Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.
2. I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the ev’ning dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps, His day is marching on.
3. I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
“As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;
Let the Hero born of woman crush the serpent with his heel, since God is marching on.
4. He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat:
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat:
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on.
5. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea;
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me.
As he died to make men holy, let us live to make men free, while God is marching on.
CHARMING BEAUTY BRIGHT (When I was youth I courted me a wife), traditional, collected Charles S. Brink and Phil R. Jack, near Smicksburg, Indiana County, Pennsylvania, in 1948. Brink was born in 1862. He was a farmer. When Professor Bayard met him, the aged Mr. Brink could not longer play his fiddle, but he was a remarkable singer, whose repertoire encompassed musical traditions of the north and south. Beth sings the altered tune of the seventh stanza as Mr. Brink rendered it.
This song has been collected in many parts of the United States, and is sometimes called "The Lover's Lament."
1. When I was young I courted me a wife,
Thinking to live a sweet and sober life.
I courted her for love, and her heart it did obtain,
So why do you think I’d any reason to complain?
2. But when her parents came this to know, that I was a-courting their only daughter dear,
They lock-ed her up, and they kep’ her so secure that I never got sight of my true love any more.
3. Then to her window I thought I would go to see if I could forget my love or no,
But when I came there, she sighed and she cried, saying, “I never can forget you until the day I die.”
4. Then to the wars I thought I would go to see if I could forget my love or no,
But when I came there the armor shone so bright, and it put me in mind of my own dear heart’s delight.
5. The first long year I serv-ed as a king; the second long year I return-ed home again.
Her mother saw me coming and she wrang her hands and cried, saying, “My daughter loved you dearly and for your sake she died.”
6. There I stood like a man that was slain, through tears rolling down, like the ty-ar-ants of rain,
Crying, “Oh! Oh! Oh! That grief I cannot bear, since my true love’s in her grave, and I’m longing to be there!”
7. I would give you all advice, if I wasn’t rather young: old folks and friends, in such cases, hold their tongue.
This song has been collected in many parts of the United States, and is sometimes called "The Lover's Lament."
1. When I was young I courted me a wife,
Thinking to live a sweet and sober life.
I courted her for love, and her heart it did obtain,
So why do you think I’d any reason to complain?
2. But when her parents came this to know, that I was a-courting their only daughter dear,
They lock-ed her up, and they kep’ her so secure that I never got sight of my true love any more.
3. Then to her window I thought I would go to see if I could forget my love or no,
But when I came there, she sighed and she cried, saying, “I never can forget you until the day I die.”
4. Then to the wars I thought I would go to see if I could forget my love or no,
But when I came there the armor shone so bright, and it put me in mind of my own dear heart’s delight.
5. The first long year I serv-ed as a king; the second long year I return-ed home again.
Her mother saw me coming and she wrang her hands and cried, saying, “My daughter loved you dearly and for your sake she died.”
6. There I stood like a man that was slain, through tears rolling down, like the ty-ar-ants of rain,
Crying, “Oh! Oh! Oh! That grief I cannot bear, since my true love’s in her grave, and I’m longing to be there!”
7. I would give you all advice, if I wasn’t rather young: old folks and friends, in such cases, hold their tongue.
YOUNG EDMUND IN THE LOWLANDS LOW, traditional, collected from Charles S. Brink by Samuel P. Bayard and Phil R. Jack, in 1949. Mr. Brink sang the emotional core of a much longer ballad in England and Scotland. Beth restored the second half of the second stanza. See the note at "Charming Beauty Bright."
1. "O Mother, dearest Mother, come tell to me the right,
It's what became of the sailor boy who come to stay last night."
"He's dead, dear daughter, he's dead, and his gold will make a show,
We'll send his fair body a-sinking down in the lowlands low."
Refrain: "His body was always in motion, and I hope his soul got rest,
The fish all in the ocean swims over my true loves breast,
The ship all in the ocean, that's tossing to and fro,
It minds me of my Edmund, that sailed the lowlands low.
2. "O Father, cruel Father, you'll die a public show,
For the killing of young Edmund, that sailed the lowlands low.
How cruel were my parents to murder Edmund so
To steal the gold of one so bold that sailed the lowlands low."
1. "O Mother, dearest Mother, come tell to me the right,
It's what became of the sailor boy who come to stay last night."
"He's dead, dear daughter, he's dead, and his gold will make a show,
We'll send his fair body a-sinking down in the lowlands low."
Refrain: "His body was always in motion, and I hope his soul got rest,
The fish all in the ocean swims over my true loves breast,
The ship all in the ocean, that's tossing to and fro,
It minds me of my Edmund, that sailed the lowlands low.
2. "O Father, cruel Father, you'll die a public show,
For the killing of young Edmund, that sailed the lowlands low.
How cruel were my parents to murder Edmund so
To steal the gold of one so bold that sailed the lowlands low."
FARE Y' WELL, SWEET MARY, traditional, collected from Hannah Gatts Rogers, Washington, Greene County, Pennsylvania, by Samuel P. Bayard, 1949. Mrs. Rogers was born in 1881, and learned her songs from her mother, a native of West Virginia. Friends said that she sounded just like her mother. In 2012, Mrs. Rogers' last surviving child remarked that her mother could sing a song “frontwards and backwards.”
1. Away 'crost the country a -court-ing I'll go,
Intending to marry sweet Mary I know.
Refrain: Fare ye well, Sweet Mary, I'll bid you adieu;
I'm ruined forever by the loving of you.
2. My love she won't have me, as I understand.
She wants a freeholder, but I've got no land,
But I can maintain her on silver and gold,
And as many a nice things as my love's house can hold.
3. Her parents don't like me because I am poor.
I'll strive to maintain her - what can I do more?
Fare y' well, sweet Mary, I'll bid you adieu,
I'm ruined forever by the loving of you.
1. Away 'crost the country a -court-ing I'll go,
Intending to marry sweet Mary I know.
Refrain: Fare ye well, Sweet Mary, I'll bid you adieu;
I'm ruined forever by the loving of you.
2. My love she won't have me, as I understand.
She wants a freeholder, but I've got no land,
But I can maintain her on silver and gold,
And as many a nice things as my love's house can hold.
3. Her parents don't like me because I am poor.
I'll strive to maintain her - what can I do more?
Fare y' well, sweet Mary, I'll bid you adieu,
I'm ruined forever by the loving of you.
