Fifty-one Religious Ballads |
  The sole occurrence of ‘The Babe of Bethlehem’, a carol, is in The Southern Harmony, 1835. William (Singin’ Billy) Walker recorded it evidently from oral tradition and added a treble and a bass part, in the four-shape notation. The ‘Morning Trumpet’ is a spiritual song in the unique seven-shape notation of The Harp of Columbia, 1855. No. 1
ROMISH LADY, HH 257 Pentatonic, mode 3 (I II III — V VI —) There was a Romish lady, Brought up in popery, Her mother always taught her, The priest she must obey. “O pardon me, dear mother, I humbly pray thee now, But unto these false idols I can no longer bow.” Assisted by her handmaid, a bible she conceal’d, And there she gain’d instruction, till God his love reveal’d. No more she prostrates herself to pictures deck’d with gold; But soon she was betrayed and her bible from her stole. “I’ll bow to my dear Jesus, I’ll worship God unseen, I’ll live by faith forever, the works of men are vain. I cannot worship angels nor pictures made by men: Dear Mother, use your pleasure, but pardon if you can.” With grief and great vexation her mother straight did go T’ inform the Roman clergy, the cause of all her wo. The priests were soon assembled, and for the maid did call, And forced her in the dungeon to fright her soul withal. The more they strove to fright her, the more she did endure; Although her age was tender, her faith was strong and sure. The chains of gold so costly, they from this lady took, And she, with all her spirits, the pride of life forsook. Before the pope they brought her, in hopes of her return, And there she was condem-ned in horrid flames to burn. Before the place of torment they brought her speedily; With lifted hands to heaven she then agreed to die. There being many ladies assembled at the place, She raised her eyes to heaven and begged supplying grace: “Weep not, ye tender ladies, shed not a tear for me, While my poor body’s burning, my soul the Lord shall see. “Yourselves you need to pity, and Zion’s deep decay; Dear ladies, turn to Jesus, no longer make delay.” In comes her raving mother, her daughter to behold, And in her hand she brought her the pictures deck’d with gold. “O take from me these idols, remove them from my sight; Restore to me my bible, wherein I take delight!— Alas, my aged mother, why on my ruin bent? ’Twas you that did betray me, but I am innocent. “Tormentors, use your pleasure, and do as you think best; I hope my blessed Jesus will take my soul to rest.” Soon as these words were spoken, up steps the man of death, And kindled up the fire to stop her mortal breath. Instead of golden bracelets, with chains they bound her fast; She cried, “My God give power, now must I die at last? With Jesus and his angels forever I shall dwell; God pardon priest and people, and so I bid farewell.” The text—undoubtedly of Inquisition times origin—indicates the age of the ballad. It is to be found in the Roxburghe Ballads, i., 43. It is mentioned in Beaumont and Fletcher’s “Knight of the Burning Pestle” (1613). A parody on the opening words: There was a moanish lady Lived in a moanish land; She had a moanish daughter Could moan at the Lord’s command etc. is in Sandburg’s American Songbag, p. 11. Another echo of this ballad text is: The Romish Lady, she had babes, in ‘The Wife of Usher’s Well’, Sharp, i., 159. I recorded the tune in Dayton, Virginia; see White Spirituals, 202. The Methodist Hymnal (1935, No. 436) has a variant of the tune which it calls a “traditional English carol”. No. 2
BEGGAR or TO BEGGING I WILL GO, SOC 212. Heptatonic ionian, mode 3 A + b (I II III IV V VI VII) I’d rather live a beggar while here on earth I stay, Than to possess the riches of all America; And to begging I will go. And to begging I will go, will go, will go, And to begging I will go. With thoughts of keen emotion our hearts are running o’er, While parting from the friends we love for China’s distant shore, We’re off for China’s shore. We’re off for China’s shore, China’s shore, We’re off for China’s shore. We need your prayers, your sympathies more now than e’er before, For few the friends and hard the task on China’s distant shore; We’re off for China’s shore. We’re off etc. We’ll heed our Master’s call; He is with us ever more; Then farewell, dear friends, adieu, we’re off for China’s shore; We’re off for China’s shore. We’re off etc. A close tune variant is ‘Lost City’, or ‘To Glory I Will Go’ in this collection. Tune and words are a parody of ‘A-Begging We Will Go’ which was widely popular in the latter part of the seventeenth century and traces of whose existence are found as early as 1611. See Chappell’s Old English Popular Music, ii., 42-43. The first stanza of the song as it appeared in Choyce Ayres etc., 1676, runs: There was a jovial beggar, He had a wooden leg, Lame from his cradle and forced for to beg. And a begging we will go, we’ll go, we’ll go, And a begging we will go. Other songs for which the early song became the prototype were ‘A Bowling We Will Go’, ‘A Fishing We Will Go’, ‘A Hawking We Will Go’ and ‘A Hunting We Will Go.’ No. 3
REVEREND JAMES AXLEY’S SONG, OL 369 Hexatonic, mode 4 A (I II — IV V VI 7) Tho’ sinners would vex me, tho’ troubles perplex me, Against inclination, O what shall I do? No longer a rover, my follies are over. But one thing is needful, and that I’ll pursue. Vain pleasure is deceitful, and sin is all hateful, But genuine pleasure in Jesus I find: This world is a bubble, a life full of trouble; My thoughts now fly upward, and leave all behind. I hear the bells tolling; and wheels are now rolling; Some gallant, gay, fair one goes to her long home: If dead out of Jesus—the Lord will not save us, And to him in glory we never can come. Oh! pray for conversion; shun foolish diversion; Adopt self-denial, and take up your cross: These do for a season, and use your own reason, And you will see clearly you suffer no loss. Your time is a treasure (there’s none in vain pleasure), Then look up to Jesus with faith’s steadfast eye: Oh, haste to believe in the crucified Savior, For time flies apace, and eternity’s nigh! My soul starts with wonder, to think how God’s thunder, Will shake all creation at Gabriel’s call! When time is no longer, the aged and younger, Before the great Judge, in their trouble, will fall. The Judgment decided, friends now are divided; And all the ungodly are turned into hell: But glory to Jesus! believing, He’ll save us, With angels in glory his praises to swell. The Olive Leaf arranger spoiled the tune’s apparent mixolydian purity by changing the d’s to d-sharps. As to title and source the editor says: “Reverend James Axley was one of the pioneer preachers of the Holston Conference, and a very holy, laborious, and successful minister. I learned this tune and song of Reverend Russell Reneau, who died in Arkansas during our late unhappy Civil War. Crude as the song is, I choose to preserve it in memory of Mr. Axley and Mr. Reneau.” The tune is a variant of ‘Christian Warfare’, GOS 603. Further information as to the Reverend James Axley, whose period of activity in the methodist conferences of Tennessee, Kentucky and other states was during the first decades of the nineteenth century, may be found in Peter Cartwright’s Autobiography, p. 62 and elsewhere. No. 4
HICKS’ FAREWELL, SOH 19 Pentatonic, mode 2 (I — 3 IV V — 7) The time is swiftly rolling on When I must faint and die; My body to the dust return And there forgotten lie. William Walker claims the tune. See ‘Farewell’ in this collection for different melodies associated with this text. Cecil Sharp recorded five versions of the song as he heard them in the Appalachian Mountains in 1916 and 1918. See Sharp, ii., 142-143. The text (given more fully under ‘Farewell’) was written by the Reverend B. Hicks of South Carolina. See White Spirituals, 202ff. No. 5
FREE SALVATION, Wesleyan Psalmist Pentatonic, mode 3 (I II III — V VI —) Man at his first creation in Eden God did place, The public head and father of all the human race; But by the subtle serpent beguil’d he was and fell, And by his disobedience was doom’d to death and hell. While in this situation a promise there was made, The offspring of the woman should bruise the serpent’s head, Against the power of Satan that man might only feel The malice of the serpent enraging at his heel. Now at the time appointed Jesus unveiled his face, Assumed our human nature and suffered in our place; He suffered on Mount Calvary and ransomed all for me, The law demands attention, to pay the penalty. They laid him in a sepulchre, it being near at hand, The grave could not now hold him, nor death’s cold iron hand; He burst them all asunder and pulled their kingdoms down, He’s overcome his enemies and wears a starry crown. Miss Gilchrist finds this “reminiscent of the old Cornish ‘When God at first had Adam made’, and of the style of the Manx-Gaelic carvals.” See JFSS, viii., 83. No. 6
SAILOR’S HOME, SOH 182 Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III — V VI VII) When for eternal worlds we steer, And seas are calm and skies are clear; And faith in lively exercise, And distant hills of Canaan rise; The soul for joy then claps her wings, And loud her lovely sonnet sings, I’m going home, I’m going home; And loud her lovely sonnet sings, I’m going home. With cheerful hope his eyes explore Each landmark on the distant shore; The trees of life, the pasture green, The crystal stream, delightful scene. Again for joy she plumes her wings, And loud her lovely sonnet sings: I’m almost home, I’m almost home! And loud her lovely sonnet sings: I’m almost home. The nearer still she draws to land, More eager all her pow’rs expand; With steady helm and free bent sail, Her anchor drops within the vale. And now for joy she folds her wings And her celestial sonnet sings: I’m home at last, I’m home at last! And her celestial sonnet sings: I’m home at last! She meets with those who’re gone before, On heaven’s high and genial shore Around the dear Redeemer’s feet, — — — — — — — And loud they shout: Our God and King! And ceaseless hallelujahs sing, We’re safe at last! We’re safe at last! And ceaseless hallelujahs sing, We’re safe at last! The song is attributed in the Southern Harmony to Wm. M. Caudill and Wm. Walker. The tune bears some resemblance to ‘Liverpool’ in this collection. The song is found also in REV 396, entitled ‘Sonnet’. No. 7
LIVERPOOL or SOLEMN ADDRESS TO YOUNG PEOPLE, OSH 37 Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III — V VI VII) Young people all attention give, And hear what I shall say; I wish your souls with Christ to live In everlasting day. Remember you are hastening on To death’s dark gloomy shade; Your joys on earth will soon be gone, Your flesh in dust be laid. Death’s iron gate you must pass through, Ere long, my dear young friends; With whom then do you think to go, With saints or fiery fiends? Pray meditate before too late, While in a gospel land; Behold! King Jesus at the gate Most lovingly doth stand. Young men, how can you turn face From such a glorious friend; Will you pursue your dang’rous ways? O don’t you fear the end? Will you pursue that dang’rous road Which leads to death and hell? Will you refuse all peace with God, With devils for to dwell? Young women too, what will you do, If out of Christ you die? From all God’s people you must go, To weep, lament and cry. Where you the least relief can’t find, To mitigate your pain; Your good things all be left behind, Your souls in death remain. Young people all, I pray then view The fountain open’d wide; The spring of life open’d for sin, Which flow’d from Jesus’ side. There you may drink in endless joy, And reign with Christ, your king, In his glad notes your souls employ, And hallelujahs sing. The earliest appearance of the text is in Mercer’s Cluster, a collection of rurally used hymns (not tunes) by Jesse Mercer, benefactor of Mercer University, who lived in Powellton, Georgia, in the 1820’s. The editor of the Sacred Harp attributes the tune to M. C. H. Davis, a southern rural. The song is found also UH 27, HH 83, HOC 113, WP 36, SOC 76, SOH I and CHH 58. The tune is a member of the ‘Lord Lovel’ family mentioned in the introduction, p. 14, and is closely related to ‘Mermaid’, Sharp, i., 291, and to ‘The Broom of Cowdenknows’, SMM No. 3, and its seventeenth-century country-dance form ‘The Bonny Bonny Broome’, Playford’s The English Dancing Master, p. 74. For a list of other members of the ‘Lord Lovel’ tune family see ‘Dulcimer’ in this collection. No. 8
LITTLE FAMILY, WS 195 ff. Pentatonic, mode 1 (I II — IV V VI —) There was a little fam’ly That liv’d in Bethany, Two sisters and a brother Compos’d that family. With shouting and with singing Like angels in the sky, At morning and at evening They rais’d their voices high. See White Spirituals for the full text of seven stanzas about the raising of Lazarus. For references see JAFL, xxv., 17, and xxix., 182. Almost the same tune is ‘Johnny German’, Sharp, ii., 256. ‘Joe Bowers’, Cox, 527, is also similar. Another spiritual ballad using this tune in variant form is ‘Wedlock (A)’, in this collection. No. 9
MISS HATAWAY’S EXPERIENCE, HH 421 Heptatonic ionian, Mode 3 A + b (I II III IV V VI VII) Young women all, I pray draw near, Listen a while and you shall hear How sin and Satan both did try To land my soul in misery. The full text is reproduced in White Spirituals, 186f. The tune is closely related to ‘McAfee’s Confession’, Sharp, ii., 15 and 16. John Powell notes in connection with this song: “I have collected this tune often as ‘Young People Who Delight in Sin’ and it is always mixolydian.” He then makes the suggestion: “Why not take out the g-sharp from the signature? In that case the modal indication would be heptatonic mixolydian, mode 3 a + b (I II III IV V VI 7).” No. 10
DYING CALIFORNIAN, OSH 410 Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III — V VI VII) Lay up nearer, brother, nearer, For my limbs are growing cold, And thy presence seemeth nearer, When thine arms around me fold. I am dying, brother, dying; Soon you’ll miss me in your berth, For my form will soon be lying ’Neath the ocean’s briney deep. I am going, surely going, But my hope in God is strong; I am willing, brother, knowing That he doth nothing wrong. Tell my father, when you greet him, That in death I prayed for him, Prayed that I might only meet him In a world that’s free from sin. Tell my mother,—God assist her, Now that she is growing old,— That her child would glad have kissed her When his lips grew pale and cold. Listen, brother, catch each whisper, ’Tis my wife I’ll speak of now; Tell, O tell her how I missed her, When the fever burned my brow. Tell her she must kiss my children, Like the kiss I last impressed; Hold them as when last I held them, Folded closely to my breast. Give them early to their maker, Putting all her trust in God; And he never will forsake her, For he’s said so in his word. Oh! my children, Heaven bless them, They were all my life to me; Would I could once more caress them Before I sink beneath the sea. ’Twas for them I crossed the ocean, What my hopes were I’d not tell, But they gained an orphan’s portion,— Yet he doth all things well. Listen, brother, closely listen, Don’t forget a single word, That in death my eyes did glisten With the tears her memory stored. Tell them I never reached the haven, Where I sought the precious dust, But I’ve gained a port called heaven Where the gold will never rust. Tell my sisters I remember Every kind and parting word, And my heart has been kept tender By the thoughts its memory stirred. Urge them to secure an entrance, For they’ll find a brother there. Faith in Jesus and repentance Will secure for them a share. Hark! I hear my Savior speaking; ’Tis—I know his voice so well, When I’m gone, O don’t be weeping, Brother, hear my last farewell. The song seems to have been inspired by the fate of one of the “forty-niners.” It made its first appearance in fasola circles in the 1859 edition of the Sacred Harp where it is attributed to Ball and Drinkard. For references as to its origin see Hudson, Folksongs of Mississippi, 221. No. 11
JOHN ADKINS’ FAREWELL, SOC 200 Hexatonic, mode 3 b (I II III IV V VI —) Poor drunkards, poor drunkards, take warning by me, The fruits of transgression behold now I see; My soul is tormented, my body confin’d; My friends and my children left weeping behind. Much intoxication my ruin has been, And my dear companion I’ve barbarously slain; In yonder cold graveyard her body doth lie, And I am confined and must shortly die. A solemn death warning to drunkards I leave, While my poor body lies cold in the dark grave; Remember John Adkins, his death and reform, Lest justice o’ertakes you and sorrow comes on. A whole life of sorrow can never atone, For that cruel murder that my hands have done; I am justly condemned, it’s right that I should die, Therefore, let all drunkards take warning hereby. Farewell, my dear children, wherever you be; Though quite young and tender and dear unto me; I leave you exposed in nature’s wide field, In which God is able poor orphans to shield. No mother to teach you, no mother to guide Your tender affections from sin’s awful tide; No portion to shun you from hunger or cold, My poor little orphans are cast on the world. When sorrows oppress you and sickness comes on, You’ll cry for your mother, but, oh, she is gone; Your father, in anger, struck her on the head, She bled, groan’d, and languish’d, and now she is dead. My heart swells with sorrow, my eyes overflow, Soon, oh my dear children, I’ll bid you adieu; Oh may my kind neighbors your guardians prove, And heaven, kind heaven, protect you above. My soul to His pleasure I humbly submit, And with my last burthen fall down at His feet; To plead for His mercy that flows from above, That pardons poor drunkards, and crowns them above. John G. McCurry, compiler of the Social Harp, claims this song and dates it 1851. The tune is identical with that of ‘When Boys Go A-Courting’, Sharp, ii., 206. The “drunkard” theme may have been the textual source of ‘Way Up On Clinch Mountain’, where, to the same tune, the singer glories in his excesses including that of whiskey drinking. See Sandburg, 307. Miss Scarbrough has a negro adoption of the same tune in ‘Noble Skewball’; see On the Trail of the Negro Folk-Song, 63. An English folk-song ‘Sweet England’ has a variant tune. See English Folk-Songs for Schools, 46. For an Irish variant see Petrie, No. 1172. A Scotch variant is ‘My Ain Fireside’, Lyric Gems of Scotland, 186, which in turn borrowed its tune from ‘Todlen Hame’. No. 12
REDEMPTION (C), KHN 185 Heptatonic ionian, mode 3 A + b (I II III IV V VI VII) Come all ye young people of every relation, Come listen a while and to you I will tell, How I was first called to seek for salvation, Redemption through Jesus which sav’d me from hell. I scarcely was sixteen when I was first called To think of my soul and the state it was in; I saw myself standing a distance from Jesus; Between him and me was a mountain of sin. The devil perceived that I was convicted, And strove to persuade me that I was too young, That I would get wearied before my days ended, And wish that I had not so early begun; Sometimes he persuaded me that Jesus was partial, When he was a-setting of poor sinners free, That I was forgotten and was reprobated, And there was no mercy at all for poor me. But glory to Jesus, his love’s not confined, To princes or men of a nobler degree; His love it is boundless to all human creatures, He died for poor sinners when nail’d to the tree. For while I lay groaning in sad lamentation, My soul overwhelmed in sorrow and grief, He drew near in mercy, looked on me in pity, He pardon’d my sins and he gave me relief. The tune is practically the same as ‘Grenadier and the Lady’, JFSS, viii., 194. No. 13
WEDLOCK (A), SOC 188 Heptatonic ionian, mode 3 A + b (I II III IV V VI VII) When Adam was created, He dwelt in Eden’s shade, As Moses has related, Before a bride was made. Ten thousand times ten thousand Things wheeled all around, Before a bride was formed, Or yet a mate was found. Another tune and additional stanzas of the text are given in this collection under the title ‘Wedlock (B)’. The song is attributed, in the Social Harp, to Henry F. Chandler and is dated 1854. The tunes of ‘Johnny German’, Sharp, ii., 256; ‘I Rode My Little Horse’, Baring-Gould, Songs of the West, No. 101; ‘The Auld House’, Lyric Gems of Scotland, 49; and ‘Joe Bowers’, are similar to the above air. Another ballad in this collection using this tune in variant form is ‘Little Family’. Stephen Foster’s song ‘Virginia Belle’ leans melodically on ‘Wedlock (A)’. (See my article in The Musical Quarterly, xxii., No. 2.) No. 14
PATTON, OL 40 Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III — V VI VII) Young people all, attention give, While I address you in God’s name, You who in sin and folly live, Come hear the counsel of a friend. I sought for bliss in glitt’ring toys, And ranged th’ alluring scenes of vice, But never found substantial joys Until I heard my Savior’s voice. He spake at once my sins forgiven And wash’d my load of guilt away; He gave me glory, peace and heaven, And thus I found the heav’nly way. And now with trembling sense I view The billows roll beneath your feet; For death eternal waits for you Who slight the force of gospel truth. Youth, like the spring, will soon be gone By fleeting time or conquering death; Your morning sun may set at noon And leave you ever in the dark. Your sparkling eyes and blooming cheeks Must wither like the blasted rose; The coffin, earth and winding-sheet Will soon your active limbs enclose. Ye heedless ones that wildly stroll, The grave will soon become your bed, Where silence reigns and vapors roll In solemn darkness round your head. Your friends will pass the lonesome place And with a sigh move slow along; Still gazing on the spires of grass With which your graves are overgrown. The compiler of Olive Leaf gives the following notes: “From McAnally’s Western Harp” and “Called after the late Wm. Patton, of Mo. Heard him sing it, first, at a camp-meeting, North Cove, Burk Co., N. C., in 1831 or 1832. Published by the admirable A. S. Hayden, perhaps in 1829.” The Celtic melodic influence is clearly felt in the above tune. No. 15
DYING BOY, OSH 398 Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III — V VI VII) I’m dying, Mother, dying now, Please raise my aching head; And fan my heated, burning brow, Your boy will soon be dead. Turn o’er my pillow once again, And kiss my fever’d cheek; I’ll soon be free from all the pain, For now I am so weak. Now light the lamps, my mother dear, The sun has pass’d away; I soon must go, but do not fear, I’ll live in endless day. I’m sinking fast, my mother dear; I can no longer dwell; Yet I’ll be with you, do not fear; But now, O now, farewell. A band of angels beckon me, I can no longer stay; Hark! how they sing: “We welcome thee; Dear brother, haste away.” The hour has come, my end is near; My soul is mounting higher. What glorious strains salute my ear From heaven’s angelic choir. Their flowing robes in brightness shine; A crown is on each head; Say, mother, will not such be mine When I am with the dead? Then do not weep, sweet mother, now, ’Twill break this body frail; Those burning tears fall o’er my brow, Farewell, O fare thee well. The Sacred Harp says this was “composed by H. S. Rees, 1859”. Is it perhaps a parody of Wm. Haines Lytle’s ‘I’m Dying, Egypt, Dying’? Lytle was a cousin of Stephen Collins Foster whose own song ‘For the Dear Old Flag I Die’ shows close kinship in words and tune to ‘Dying Boy’. (See my article in The Musical Quarterly, xxii., No. 2.) There is a resemblance also between the ‘Dying Boy’ tune and a seventeenth century psalm tune called variously ‘Bella’, ‘Leeds’, ‘Needham’ and ‘Derby’; see Hymns Ancient and Modern, Historical ed., London, Clowes, 1909, p. 79. No. 16
SAW YE MY SAVIOR, CH 42 Heptatonic ionian, mode 1 A + B (I II III IV V VI VII) Saw ye my Savior, saw ye my Savior, Saw ye my Savior and God? Oh! he died on Calvary to atone for you and me And to purchase our pardon with blood. He was extended, he was extended, Painfully nailed to the cross; Then he bowed his head and died, thus my Lord was crucified, To atone for a world that was lost. Jesus hung bleeding, Jesus hung bleeding, Three dreadful hours in pain; Whilst the sun refused to shine, when his majesty divine Was derided, insulted and slain. Darkness prevail-ed, darkness prevail-ed, Darkness prevailed through the land; Oh, the solid rocks were rent, through creation’s vast extent When the Jews crucified the God-Man. When it was finish’d, when it was finish’d, And the atonement was made; He was taken by the great, and embalmed in spices sweet, And was in a new sepulchre laid. Hail, mighty Savior, hail mighty Savior! Prince and the Author of peace! Oh, he burst the bars of death, and triumphing left the earth, He ascended to mansions of bliss. Now interceding, now interceding, Pleading that sinners might live; Saying, “Father, I have died, (O, behold my hands and side!) To redeem them, I pray thee, forgive.” “I will forgive them, I will forgive them, When they repent and believe; Let them now return to thee, and be reconciled to me, And salvation they all shall receive.” This song occurs also in Olive Leaf, p. 203, where it is called “a Scotch air”. Miss Gilchrist tells us, in the article often cited here, that ‘Saw Ye My Savior’ is ‘Saw Ye My Father’, or ‘The Grey Cock’, found in both Scotch and English versions. A text is in Herd’s collections of 1769 and 1772, and another with the tune, in Chappell’s Popular Music. Chappell’s version begins: Saw you my father, saw you my mother, Saw you my true love John? He told his only dear that he would soon be here, But he to another is gone. The melodic phrase above, which coincides with the text “Oh ... me”, is used to build up the tune for ‘Simple Ploughboy’, Sharp, i., 369. As to the influence of this impressive text on the crucifixion songs of the negroes, see White Spirituals, 277. Stephen Foster seems to have been influenced by the ‘Saw Ye My Savior’ tune or its secular relatives in composing his ‘Old Black Joe’. (See my article in The Musical Quarterly, xxii., No. 2.) For further references as to ‘The Grey Cock’ see British Ballads from Maine, 310ff. No. 17
ESTER, OSH 437 Pentatonic, mode 3 (I II III — V VI —) Young ladies all, attention give, You that in wicked pleasures live; One of your sex the other day Was call’d by death’s cold hand away. This lesson she has left for you, To teach the careless what to do; To seek Jehovah while you live And everlasting honors give. Her honored mother she addrest, While tears were streaming down her breast; She grasped her tender hands and said, “Remember me when I am dead.” She called her father to her bed, And thus in dying anguish said: “My days on earth are at an end, My soul is summoned to attend; Before Jehovah’s awful bar, To hear my awful sentence there; And now, dear father, do repent, And read the holy testament.” The Sacred Harp ascribes the song to John S. Terry and dates it 1869. Terry was a singing-school teacher of Georgia and later lived in Alabama. The singing-school teacher took for his warning song the ‘Lord Lovel’ tune type that has been used for many secular ballads. Among them are ‘Barbara Allen’, Sharp, i., 195, tune O; ‘Gypsy Laddie’, Sharp, i., 237, tune F; ‘Come all Ye Fair and Tender Ladies’, Sharp, ii., 135, tune P. For other tunes of the same type see ‘Dulcimer’ in this collection. No. 18
LONE PILGRIM, SOH 256 Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III — V VI VII) I came to the place where the lone pilgrim lay, And pensively stood by the tomb, When in a low whisper I heard something say, “How sweetly I sleep here alone.” “The tempest may howl and the loud thunder roar, And gathering storms may arise, Yet calm is my feeling, at rest is my soul The tears are all wiped from my eyes. “The cause of my master compelled me from home, I bade my companions farewell; I blessed my dear children who now for me mourn,— In far distant regions they dwell. “I wandered an exile and stranger from home, No kindred or relative nigh; I met the contagion and sank to the tomb, My soul flew to mansions on high. “O tell my companion and children most dear, To weep not for me now I’m gone; The same hand that led me through scenes most severe, Has kindly assisted me home. “And there is a crown that doth glitter and shine, That I shall for evermore wear; Then turn to the Savior, his love’s all divine, All you that would dwell with me there.” The text is attributed, by the 1911 editor of the Sacred Harp, to B. F. White, original compiler of that book. He wrote it “on the lone prairie in Texas”, while standing “at the grave of a friend who once lived in Georgia”. In Folksongs of Mississippi Hudson gives a variant text from oral tradition and tells of a local legend as to its source which agrees in the main with that given in the Sacred Harp which book, I suspect, was the source of the Mississippi legend. The tune, variously claimed in the fasola books, is identical with the ‘Braes o’ Balquhidder’. See Gilchrist, JFSS, viii., 77. Other derivatives of the same tune are ‘Sinner’s Invitation’, ‘Florence’, and ‘Orphan Girl’ in this collection. In The Musical Quarterly, xxii., No. 2, I have shown the relationship between this tune and Stephen Foster’s ‘Linda Has Departed’. No. 19
ORPHAN GIRL, CSH 506 Pentatonic, mode 3 (I II III — V VI —) “No home, no home”, plead a little girl, At the door of a princely hall, As she trembling stood on the polish’d step, And lean’d on the marble wall. “My father, alas, I never knew”, And a tear dimmed her eyes so bright; “My mother sleeps in a new-made grave, ’Tis an orphan begs tonight”. Her clothes were thin and her feet were bare, But the snow had covered her head; “O! give me a home”, she feebly said, “A home and a bit of bread”. The night was dark and the snow fell fast, But the rich man closed his door; And his proud face frowned as he scornfully said: “No room, no bread for the poor”. The morning dawned, and the orphan girl Still lay at the rich man’s door; But her soul had fled to a home above, Where there’s room and bread for the poor. The Cooper edition of the Sacred Harp gives the note: “Music by Eld. C. G. Keith, Nov. 1, 1906.” See Henry, JAFL, vl., 66f, for further references as to its occurrence. The tune is a derivative of ‘The Braes o’ Balquidder’. See ‘Lone Pilgrim’ for references to related tunes in this collection. No. 20
PARALYTIC, REV 4 Heptatonic aeolian; mode 4 a + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7) Review the palsied sinner’s case Who sought for help in Jesus; His friends conveyed him to the place Where he might meet with Jesus. A multitude were thronging round To keep them back from Jesus; But from the roof they let him down, Before the face of Jesus. Thus fainting souls by sin diseased, There’s none can save but Jesus; With more than plague or palsy seized Oh! help them on to Jesus. Oh! Savior, hear their mournful cry, And tell them thou art Jesus; Oh! speak the word, or they must die, And bid farewell to Jesus. Now let them hear thy voice declare, Thou sin-forgiving Jesus, That thou didst die to hear their prayer, And give them help in Jesus. The great Physician now is near, The sympathizing Jesus; He speaks the drooping heart to cheer, Oh! hear the voice of Jesus. All glory to the dying Lamb, I now believe in Jesus; I love the blessed Savior’s name, I love the name of Jesus. And when to that bright world above We rise to see our Jesus, We’ll sing around the throne of love The blessed name of Jesus. The author of the text is given as Wm. Hunter. The tune is a variant of ‘London Pride’, Sharp, Morris Dances, Set vii, No. 6. Its proper mode would seem to be dorian and its correct signature therefore one flat. No. 21
VILLULIA or BARTIMEUS, OSH 331 Pentatonic, mode 4 (I II — IV V — 7) Mercy, O thou son of David, Thus poor blind Bartimeus pray’d; Others by thy grace are saved, Now to me afford thine aid. Money was not what he wanted, Though by begging used to live; But he asked and Jesus granted Alms which none but he could give. “Lord, remove this grievous blindness; Let mine eyes behold the day.” Straight he saw and, won by kindness, Followed Jesus by the way. Tune attributed to J. M. Day, a Georgian. Doubt as to the correctness of this source is cast by the appearance of both tune and text in the Christian Lyre of 1830, No. 4. Variants are ‘Invocation’, GOS 67, and ‘Lord Revive Us’, PB 198. The Sacred Harp editor evidently looked upon this tune as one in a-minor, whereas it is probably a dorian melody with f-sharp as its tonic, and should have also a d-sharp in its key signature. No. 22
MOULDERING VINE, UH 101 Heptatonic aeolian, mode 4 a + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7) Hail! ye sighing sons of sorrow, Learn from me your certain doom; Learn from me your fate tomorrow, Dead perhaps laid in your tomb. See all nature fading, dying, silent all things seem to pine; Life from vegetation flying, Brings to mind the mould’ring vine! See in yonder forest standing Lofty cedars, how they nod! Scenes of nature how surprising, Read in nature, nature’s God. Whilst the annual frosts are cropping Leaves and tendrils from the trees, So, our friends are early dropping, We are like to one of these. Hollow winds about me roaring, Noisy waters round me rise, Whilst I sit my fate deploring, Tears fast streaming from mine eyes. What to me is autumn’s treasure, Since I know no earthly joy? Long I’ve lost all youthful pleasure, Time must youth and health destroy. The tune was recorded, from oral tradition evidently, by William Caldwell (of eastern Tennessee) in the 1830’s. His source was doubtless some variant of ‘Banks of Inverary’. Cf. JFSS, viii., 198. The unique opening melodic phrase is to be found also in ‘Young Beeham’ or ‘Ship’s Carpenter’, Cox 528. Another tune variant in the fasola environment is ‘Sons of Sorrow’, OSH 332. No. 23
CONVERTED THIEF (A), COH 147 Hexatonic, mode 4 A (I II — IV V VI 7) As on the cross the Savior hung And wept and bled and died, He pour’d salvation on a wretch That languish’d at his side. His crimes with inward grief and shame, The penitent confess’d Then turn’d his dying eyes on Christ And thus his prayer address’d. The poem, given in full under ‘Converted Thief (B)’, is attributed to Stennett. William Moore of Tennessee, compiler of Columbian Harmony, lays claim to the tune, and probably did record it from oral sources. Found also SOH 9, OSH 44, GOS 140. The tune is a member of the ‘Hallelujah’ family. See the song with that title in this collection. No. 24
TENNESSEE, HH 140 Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III — V VI VII) Afflictions, though they seem severe, In mercy oft are sent; They stopp’d the prodigal’s career And caus’d him to repent. Although he no relenting felt, Till he had spent his store; His stubborn heart began to melt, When famine pinched him sore. “What have I gained by sin?” he said, “But hunger, shame, and fear? My father’s house abounds with bread, While I am starving here. “I’ll go and tell him all I’ve done And fall before his face; Unworthy to be called his son, I’ll seek a servant’s place.” His father saw him coming back; He saw and ran and smiled, And threw his arms around the neck Of his repenting child. “Father, I’ve sinned, but O forgive!” “Enough,” the father said; “Rejoice, my house, my son’s alive, For whom I mourned as dead. “Now let the fatted calf be slain; Go spread the news around; My son was dead, but lives again, Was lost, but now is found.” ’Tis thus the Lord his love reveals, To call his children home; More than a father’s love he feels, And bids the needy come. The tune is a member of the ‘Roll Jordan’ family which is described under the song by that name in this collection. The ‘Tennessee’ tune’s resemblance to Foster’s ‘Susanna’ is evident. The melody, or some near relative of it, may well have furnished Foster with his inspiration in composing the latter. It had been sung widely in America for at least fifty years before the Pittsburgh composer published his minstrel song. (See the author’s article ‘Stephen Foster’s Debt to American Folk-Song’, The Musical Quarterly, xxii., No. 2.) That the ‘Tennessee’ tune was “unwritten music” in the South, and therefore free for all, is indicated by the many claimants to its authorship; Chapin, J. Robertson, L. P. Breedlove, William C. Davis, and William Walker were among them. In various forms and with different texts the tune is found also, CHI 84 (published in 1805), SKH 23, GCM 134, SOH 28, GOS 229, HOC 114, WP 96, TZ 94, SOC 78, SOC 81, SOC 145, SOH 105, OSH 501, SKH 23. The second part of the tune is similar to ‘Jamaica’, Sharp, Country Dances, Set IV, No. 12. No. 25
FAREWELL, HOC 32 Hexatonic, mode 3 b (I II III IV V VI —) The time is swiftly rolling on, When I must faint and die, My body to the dust return, And there forgotten lie, And there forgotten lie, And there forgotten lie, My body to the dust return, And there forgotten lie. Through heats and colds I’ve ofttimes went, I’ve wandered in despair, To call poor sinners to repent And seek their Savior dear. My brother preachers, boldly speak And stand on Zion’s wall; Confirm the drunk, confirm the weak And after sinners call. My loving wife, my bosom friend, The object of my love, The time’s been sweet I’ve spent with you, My sweet and harmless dove. My little children near my heart My warm affections know. Fer each the path will I attend. O from them can I go?! O God, a father to them be And keep them from all harm, That they may love and worship Thee And dwell upon thy charm. How often you have looked fer me And often seen me come; But now I must depart from thee And nevermore return. My loving wife, don’t grieve fer me, Neither lament nor mourn; Fer I will with my Jesus be, And dwell upon his charm. The tune is attributed in the Harp of Columbia to W. Atchley. It belongs to what I have called (Introduction, p. 14) the ‘Hallelujah’ type of melody. See ‘Hallelujah’ for other related spiritual tunes. A secular song using the same melodic formula is ‘Virginia Lover’, Sharp, ii., 150. The text of ‘Farewell’ is recorded from oral tradition and reproduced from White Spirituals, 202. See ‘Hicks’ Farewell’ in this collection as to the authorship of the words. No. 26
WICKED POLLY, WS 190 Hexatonic mode 4, b (I II 3 IV V — 7) Young people who delight in sin, I’ll tell you what has lately been: A woman who was young and fair Died in sin and deep despair. For the full text and much data as to the source and occurrence of this song, see White Spirituals, 189-193. A tune variant is ‘Supplication’, in this collection. Another is ‘Lord Bateman’, Sharp One Hundred English Folksongs, No. 6. No. 27
MOSES Hexatonic, mode 1 A (I II III IV V VI —) An’ Phareoh’s daughter went down to thee water An’ foun’ there thee beauteeful child, Among thee tall bushes thee reeds an’ thee rushes Thee babee look’d sweetlee an’ smil’d. Recorded from singing of Miss Will Allen Dromgoole, Nashville, Tennessee, as she remembered it sung in 1890 by Mr. Tate, stage driver from Beersheba to Beersheba Springs on Cumberland Mountain in Tennessee. The unusual spelling is an attempt at reproducing the emphatic rhythmic pronunciation of Mr. Tate. The one stanza given above was all Miss Dromgoole remembered. The full text, however, was recorded by Mr. Fred Haun of Newport, Tennessee, from the singing of his mother, Mrs. Maggie Haun, and placed at my disposal by Miss Mildred Haun, his sister. This rather defective text is as follows: The ladies were wending their way As Pharo’s daughter stepped down to the water To bathe in the cool of the day. Before it was dark she opened the ark And found the sweet infant was there. She took him in pity and thought him so pretty; That made little Moses so glad. She called him her own, her beautiful son, And sent for a nurse that was near. By the side of the river so clear They carried that beautiful child To his own tender mother, his sister and brother; Little Moses looked happy and smiled. His mother so good done all that she could To hear [rear?] him and teach him with care. Then away by the sea that was red Stood Moses the servant of God. While in him confided the deed [sea ?] was divided While upward he lifted his rod. The Jews safely crossed while Pharo’s host Was drounded in the water and lost. Then away by the mountain so high Stood Moses with trembling an’ awe; With lightning and thunder, great signs and wonders, While God was giving the law. He wrote it down on two tables of stone Before he returned to the sky. Then away on the mountain so high Stood the last one he ever might see. While Isreal victorious, his hope was most gloriest, Would soon over Jordan be free. His neighbors did cease, he departed in peace, And rest-es in heaven above. No. 28
MOURNER’S LAMENTATION or CHURCH’S DESOLATION, CHH 265 Pentatonic, mode 1 (I II — IV V VI —) Poor mourning soul in deep distress, Just waken’d from a slumber, Who wanders in sin’s wilderness, Out of the condemned number. The thunder roars from Sinai’s mount, Fills him with awful terror; And he like nought in God’s account, All drown’d with grief and sorrow. Oh, woe is me that I was born, Or after death have being; Fain would I be some earthly worm, Which has no future being; Or had I died when I was young, Oh, what would I have given! Then might with babes my little tongue, Been praising God in heaven. But now may I lament my case, Just worn away by trouble; From day to day I look for peace, But find my sorrow double. Cries Satan, “Desp’rate is your state, Time’s been you might repented, But now you see it is too late, So make yourself contented!” How can I live, how can I rest Under this sore temptation, Fearing the day of grace is past, Lord, hear my lamentation! For I am weary of my life, My groans and bitter crying; My wants are great, my mind’s in strife, My spirit’s almost dying. Without relief I soon shall die, No hope of getting better; Show pity, Lord, and hear the cry Of a distress-ed sinner. For I’m resolv-ed here to trust At thy footstool for favor, Pleading for life, though death be just, Make haste, Lord, to deliver. “Come, hungry, weary, naked soul, For such I ne’er rejected; My righteousness sufficient is, Though you have long neglected. Come, weary soul, for right you have, I am such soul’s protector; My honor is engaged to save All under this character. “I came to seek, I came to save, I came to make atonement, I lived, I died, laid in the grave To save you from the judgment.” By faith, my glorious Lord I see; Oh, how it doth amaze me To see him bleeding on the tree, From death and hell to raise me. The above homespun text points to the rural preacher or revival song leader of the late eighteenth century as its source. It is a conversion story in dramatic form, the Savior, the Sinner and the Devil having parts in the drama. The earliest known occurrence of the tune is in the Vermont book, Ingalls’ Christian Harmony of 1805, p. 77. In the Sacred Harp of 1844, p. 89, it is found with a different text and is entitled ‘Church’s Desolation’. It is claimed there by J. T. White, and in the Christian Harmony of 1866, by William Walker. Both were South Carolinians, from which territory Reed Smith recorded the tune in 1913 as one of the ‘Barbara Allen’ settings; SCB 130. This tune was probably adopted for ‘Church’s Desolation’ and for the ‘Barbara Allen’ ballad from the Scotch ballad ‘Wae’s me for Prince Charlie’. See Kennedy’s Handbook of Scottish Song, p. 20. The London Era in the early 1860’s speaks of this as the “celebrated Jacobite song.” The ‘Prince Charlie’ of the song is Charles II of England. Hence the song, the text at least, is nearly 300 years old. The same tune is used also for ‘Geordie’, Last Leaves, p. 133; ‘Locks and Bolts’, Sharp, ii., 19; ‘Lazarus’, Sharp, ii., 30; an old Irish tune in Petrie, No. 363; ‘Johnny Fa’’, SMM, No. 62; and ‘Hynd Horn’, Motherwell, Appendix, Musick, No. 13. The noted composer of hymn tunes, J. B. Dykes, was influenced by the ‘Prince Charlie’ melody in the building up of ‘Lindisfarne’; see Hymns Ancient and Modern, No. 156, second tune. No. 29
ADDRESS FOR ALL, CHH 101 Hexatonic, mode 1 b (I II — IV V VI 7) I sing a song which doth belong To all the human race, Concerning death which steals the breath And blasts the comely face. Come listen all unto my call Which I do make to day, For you must die as well as I, And pass from hence away. No human power can stop the hour Wherein a mortal dies; A Caesar may be great today, Yet death will close his eyes. Though some do strive and do arrive To riches and renown, Enjoying health and swim in wealth, Yet death will bring them down. Though beauty grace your comely face With roses white and red, A dying fall will spoil it all, For Absalom is dead. Though you acquire the best attire, Appearing fine and fair, Yet death will come into the room And strip you naked there. The princes high and beggars die And mingle with the dust, The rich, the brave, the negro slave, The wicked and the just. Therefore prepare to meet thy God Before it be too late, Or else you’ll weep, lament and cry, Lost in a ruin’d state. William Walker claims this song. See ‘Church’s Desolation’, a variant of the tune, for source references. See also ‘Sweet William and Lady Margery’ (Wyman and Brockway, p. 94) for a secular tune variant. No. 30
CONDESCENSION, GOS 656 Hexatonic, mode 1 b (I II — IV V VI 7) How condescending and how kind Was God’s eternal Son! Our mis’ry reach’d his heav’nly mind And pity brought him down. When justice by our sins provoked, Drew forth its dreadful sword, He gave his soul up to the stroke, Without a murmuring word. Here we behold his bowels roll, As kind as when he died; And see the sorrows of his soul Bleed through his wounded side. This was compassion like a God, That when the Savior knew The price of pardon was his blood, His pity ne’er withdrew. Now though he reigns exalted high, His love is still as great; Well he remembers Calvary, Nor let his saints forget. Here let our hearts begin to melt, While we his death record, And with our joy for pardoned guilt, Mourn that we pierced the Lord. The words are attributed to Isaac Watts. I have supplied the second and third stanzas from The Olive Leaf, p. 129. The tune is from the eighteenth century; found also OSH 286, PB 38, HH 63, UHH 13. The tune’s frame is found with the text of ‘Good Morning, My Pretty Little Miss’, Sharp, ii., 90, also in ‘Ibby Damsel’, Sharp, ii., 137. I surmise that we have, in the last line of the second stanza above, the source of the negro spiritual refrain: An’ he never said a mumblin’ word. No. 31
GOOD PHYSICIAN, SOH 49 Pentatonic, mode 2 (I — 3 IV V — 7) How lost was my condition, Till Jesus made me whole; There is but one Physician Can cure a sin-sick soul. Next door to death he found me, And snatch’d me from the grave, To tell to all around me, His wondrous pow’r to save. The worst of all diseases Is light compared with sin; On every part it seizes, But rages most within. ’Tis palsy, plague, and fever, And madness, all combin’d; And none but a believer The least relief can find. From men great skill professing, I thought a cure to gain; But this proved more distressing And added to my pain. Some said that nothing ail’d me. Some gave me up for lost; Thus every refuge fail’d me, And all my hopes were cross’d. At length this great Physician (How matchless is his grace!) Accepted my petition And undertook my case. First gave me sight to view him, For sin my eyes had seal’d; Then bid me look unto him, I look’d, and I was heal’d. A dying, risen Jesus, Seen by the eye of faith, At once from anguish frees us And saves the soul from death. Come, then, to this Physician, His help he’ll freely give; He makes no hard condition, ’Tis only—look and live. This tune is found also in GOS, No. 227. A remake is in OSH 176. It is ‘Banks of Sweet Dundee’, Sharp i., 399. Related also to ‘Pinery Boy’, Shoemaker, 262; and ‘Virginian Lover’, Sharp, ii., 150. The negro song ‘Sin-Sick Soul’, SS, No. 66, is based textually and melodically on the above song. No. 32
LOOK OUT or WHEN I WAS YOUNG, OSH 90 Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III — V VI VII) When I was young of tender years, My Savior did arrest me; I then was fill’d with many fears, But Satan still did tempt me. He told me that I was too young To leave my earthly pleasure; That I might live till I was old, And serve God at my leisure. Again the spirit came one day With his almighty power, Which caused me to forsake my way And tremble every hour; And he caused me to weep and mourn, Saying, Lord Jesus, save me, If mercy thou canst me afford, And to thy glory raise me. When Jesus heard the rebel cry, He sent his kind compassion; Down at his feet my soul did lie, There pleading for a blessing. My heart was filled with tenderness. My mouth was filled with praises, While Abba, Father, I did cry, And glory to my Savior. B. F. White, compiler of the Sacred Harp, is given as the composer. It is dated 1842. The text is supplied from Good Old Songs, No. 154. A secular setting is ‘Three Crows’, Davis, p. 562, tune “P”. Both ‘Look Out’ and ‘Three Crows’ are adaptations of ‘Ye Banks and Braes’, or ‘Bonnie Doon’, see Kennedy, Handbook of Scottish Song, p. 27. In Church Harmony, p. 134, we find the ‘Bonnie Doon’ tune in its original form under the little ‘Star of Bethlehem’. A variant tune in this collection is ‘’Tis a Wonder’. No. 33
SAINT’S REQUEST, OSH 286 Pentatonic, mode 3 (I II III — V VI —) Young people all attention give And hear what I shall say; I wish your souls with Christ to live, In everlasting day. I want you to go to that bright world, To dwell with saints forever there. The Sacred Harp gives but one stanza of this ballad. The rest of the text is to be found in Zion Songster. The tune is widely used among the secular ballads. See ‘Barbara Allen’, Sharp, i., 183; ‘Geordie’, Sharp, i., 240; ‘False Young Man’, Sharp, ii., 52; ‘Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor’, Smith, 115; ‘True Lover’s Farewell’, Sharp, ii., 114; ‘Lizzie Wan’, Sharp, i., 89; and ‘Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard’, Sharp, i., 164 and 166. No. 34
NEWBERRY or LONESOME GROVE, SOC 131 Pentatonic, mode 3 (I II III — V VI —) One day while in a lonesome grove, Sat o’er my head a little dove; For her lost mate began to coo, Which made me think of my mate too. Ah! little dove, you’re not alone, For I, like you, can only mourn; I once, like you, did have a mate, But now, like you, am desolate. Consumption seized my love severe And preyed upon her one long year, Till death came at the break of day, And my poor Mary he did slay. Her sparkling eyes and blooming cheeks Withered like the rose and died; The arms that once embraced me round Lie mould’ring under the cold ground. But death, grim death, did not stop here; I had one child, to me most dear; He, like a vulture, came again And took from me my little Jane. But, bless the Lord, his word is given, Declaring babes are heirs of heaven. Then cease, my heart, to mourn for Jane, Since my small loss is her great gain. I have a hope that cheers my breast, To think my love has gone to rest; For while her dying tongue could move, She praised the Lord for pardoning love. Shout on, ye heavenly pow’rs above, While I this lonesome desert rove; My master’s work will soon be done, And then I’ll join you in your song. O hasten on that happy day, When I must leave this clod of clay, And soar aloft o’er yon blest plain And there meet Mary and my Jane. The song is attributed in the Social Harp to Wm. C. Davis. The first stanza was evidently inspired by the lines in the traditional English ballad entitled ‘Giles Collins’, Sharp, i., 196, which reads: Look away, look away, that lonesome dove That sails from pine to pine; It’s mourning for its own true love Just like I mourn for mine. Four recently recorded (1917 and 1918) variants of the ‘Newberry’ tune, with one stanza of text each are in Sharp, ii., 197f. See also JAFL, xxv., 276. ‘Lonesome Dove’, Thomas, 162, has the same text but a different tune. ‘Heavenly Dove’ in this collection is a variant tune, but it is more closely related to the ‘Barbara Allen’ tune in Sharp, i., 183ff. ‘Newberry’ belongs to the ‘Lord Lovel’ type of tune mentioned in the Introduction, p. 14. Other melodies of the same type are listed under ‘Dulcimer’ in this collection. No. 35
DEEP SPRING or CONVERTED THIEF (B), KNH 90 Pentatonic, mode 3 (I II III — V VI —) As on the cross the Savior hung, and wept and bled and died, He pour’d salvation on a wretch that languish’d at his side; That languish’d at his side, That languish’d at his side, He pour’d salvation on a wretch that languish’d at his side. His crimes, with inward grief and shame, the penitent confess’d; Then turn’d his dying eyes to Christ and thus his prayer address’d: “Jesus, thou son and heir of heaven! Thou spotless lamb of God! I see thee bathed in sweat and tears and welt’ring in thy blood. “Yet quickly from those scenes of wo, in triumph thou shalt rise, Burst through the gloomy shades of death and shine above the skies. “Amid the glories of that world, dear Savior, think on me, And in the vict’ries of thy death let me a sharer be.” His prayer the dying Jesus hears and instantly replies: “Today thy parting soul shall be with me in paradise.” The tune is found also UH 89, SOC 249, HOC 93, OSH 44. It is reminiscent of ‘Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard’, Sharp, i., 166; ‘Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor’, Sharp, i., 118; and ‘O Land of Rest’ in this collection. No. 36
SALUTATION or GOOD MORNING BROTHER PILGRIM, GOS 298 Hexatonic, mode 2 A (I II 3 IV V — 7) Good morning, brother pilgrim, What, bound for Canaan’s coast? March you to Jerusalem To join the heav’nly host? Pray, wherefore are you smiling, While tears run down your face? We soon shall cease from toiling And reach that heav’nly place; And reach that heav’nly place, We soon shall cease from toiling And reach that heav’nly place. To Canaan’s coast we’ll hasten, to join the heavenly throng; Hark, from the banks of Jordan, how sweet the pilgrims’ song! Their Jesus they are viewing, by faith we see him, too, We smile and weep and praise him, and on our way pursue; (repeated as above) Though sinners do despise us and treat us with disdain, Our former comrades slight us, esteem us low and mean; No earthly joy shall charm us while marching on our way, Our Jesus will defend us in the distressing day. The frowns of old companions we’re willing to sustain, And, in divine compassion, to pray for them again; For Christ, our loving Savior, our Comforter and Friend, Will bless us with his favor and guide us to the end. With streams of consolation, we’re filled as with new wine, We die to transient pleasures, and live to things divine, We sink in holy raptures, while viewing things above, While, glory to my Savior, my soul is full of love. This is evidently a marching tune and from the eighteenth century vintage. It occurs also OSH 153, SOC 216, HH 387. ‘Walking on the Levy’ (Newell, Games and Songs of American Children, p. 231) has a similar beginning. Echoes of the text are found in Dett, p. 8: Good mornin’, brother trav’ler, Pray tell me where you’re bound, I’m bound for Canaan’s happy land, And de enchanted ground. Stephen Foster’s ‘Farewell My Lily Dear’ and ‘The Soldier’s Home’ show relationship to the tune. (See my article in The Musical Quarterly, vol. xxii., No. 2.) For the English source of this dialogue type of song, see the note under ‘Warrenton’ in this collection. No. 37
HEAVENLY UNION or EXPERIENCE, REV 42 Heptatonic aeolian, mode 1 A + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7) Come, saints and sinners, hear me tell, The wonders of Immanuel Who saved me from a burning hell, And brought my soul with him to dwell, And gave me heav’nly union. Union, union, Who sav’d me from a burning hell, And brought my soul with him to dwell, And gave me heav’nly union. When Jesus saw me from on high, Beheld my soul in ruin lie, He looked on me with pitying eye, And said to me as he passed by: “With God you have no union.” Then I began to weep and cry; And looked this way and that to fly; It grieved me so that I must die; I strove salvation then to buy, But still I had no union. But when I hated all my sin, My dear Redeemer took me in, And with his blood he washed me clean; And oh! what seasons I have seen Since first I felt this union. I now with saints can join to sing, And mount on faith’s triumphant wing And make the heavenly arches ring With loud hosannas to our King, Who brought our souls to union. The tune seems dorian in character. If so classed, the key signature should be natural. A variant of tune and text is in CHI 30 and SWP 69. No. 38
MARION or I’LL RAMBLE AND I’LL ROVE, SOC 228 Pentatonic, mode 2 (I — 3 IV V — 7) I have a loving old father at home, I’ve cost him many a tear; And to make lament to him, I’ll travel ten thousand year. I’ll ramble and I’ll rove and I’ll call upon my God. They may all say what they will, Resolv’d as I am so long as I live, For to be a rover still. Further stanzas are made merely by the substitution of “mother” etc. for “father”. The song, tune and words, was probably parodied from ‘Seven Long Years’. See Sharp, ii., 79. From the latter song I quote the second stanza. I have a good old father at home, And I’ve cost him many a pound, And now to make amends for this, I’ll travel the whole world round. Chorus I’ll romp and I’ll rave, and I’ll call for my bode, They may all say what they will; Resolved as I am, just as long as I can, For to drink good liquor still. Compare also ‘Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor’, Sharp, i., 124, tune ‘N’. ‘Marion’ belongs to the ‘Babe of Bethlehem’ group of tunes. See the song by that title in this collection. ‘Kingsfold’, No. 270 in the Christian Science Hymnal is the same. In the English Methodist Hymn Book, ‘Kingsfold’ is given as a traditional melody of England. See also Petrie, Nos. 193 and 863. No. 39
UNION, OSH 116 Heptatonic aeolian, mode 2 A + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7) Come, brothers and sisters who love one another And have done for years that are gone; How often we’ve met him in sweet heav’nly union Which opens the way to God’s throne; With joy and thanksgiving we’ll praise him who loved us, While we run the bright shining way; Though we part here in body we’re bound for one glory, And bound for each other to pray. There was Joshua and Joseph, Elias and Moses, That pray’d, and God heard from his throne; There was Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and David, And Solomon, and Stephen, and John, There was Simeon, and Anna, and I don’t know how many, That pray’d as they journey’d along; Some cast among lions, some bound with rough irons, Yet glory and praises they sung. Some tell us that praying, and also that praising Is labor that’s all spent in vain; But we have such a witness that God hears with swiftness, From praying we will not refrain. There was old father Noah, and ten thousand more, That witness’d that God heard them pray; There was Samuel and Hannah, Paul, Silas, and Peter, And Daniel and Jonah, we’ll say. That God, by his spirit, or an angel doth visit Their souls and their bodies while praying, Shall we all go fainting, while they go on praising, And glorify God in the flame? God grant us to inherit the same praying spirit, While we are journeying below, That when we cease praying, we shall not cease praising, But round God’s white throne we shall bow. James, editor of the Original Sacred Harp, 1911, says: “The hymn is from a very old edition, 1820. It is not in any of the hymn books found since that date.” The quick triple time of the tune indicates Irish influence and, probably, source. Similar is ‘Royal Band’, OSH 360. As to the remarkable rhyme or assonance in the text—see for example the repeated “o” assonance in the first lines—I am reminded of what Cecil Sharp said of this feature in Anglo-Irish ballads of this sort, namely, that “They imitate with more or less success in an alien tongue the assonantal Gaelic rhymes with which their makers, whether hedge-schoolmasters or peasants, were doubtless familiar.” The same metrical trend is in ‘Green Grows the Laurel’, Sharp, ii., 211. No. 40
POOR WAYFARING STRANGER, GOS 714 Pentatonic, mode 2 minorized (I — 3 IV V — VII) I am a poor wayfaring stranger While trav’ling through this world of woe, Yet there’s no sickness, toil nor danger In that bright world to which I go. I’m going there to see my father, I’m going there no more to roam; I’m only going over Jordan, I’m only going over home. I know dark clouds will gather round me, I know my way is rough and steep; Yet beauteous fields lie just before me Where God’s redeem’d their vigils keep. I’m going there to see my mother, She said she’d meet me when I come; I’m only going over Jordan, I’m only going over home. I’ll soon be freed from every trial, My body sleep in the church-yard; I’ll drop the cross of self-denial And enter on my great reward. I’m going there to see my class-mates, Who’ve gone before me one by one; I’m only going over Jordan, I’m only going over home. I want to wear a crown of glory, When I get home on that good land; I want to shout salvation’s story, In concert with the blood-wash’d band; I’m going there to see my Savior, To sing his praise forever more; I’m only going over Jordan, I’m only going over home. This is a comparatively recent recording (around the beginning of the present century) of an extremely widely sung folk-tune. It appears in Good Old Songs as a bare melody, no harmonic parts. I suggest, as an explanation of the d-flat in the fifth measure from the end, the intrusion of dorian influence. The earliest known recording among the fasola folk was in the first edition of the Sacred Harp, 1844. The negro adoptions and adaptations are reviewed WS 251ff. The tune is quite evidently borrowed from secular environment. I list here a number of secular songs whose tunes are variously related: ‘Barbara Allen’, Sharp, i., 194 and 195; ‘In Old Virginny’, Sharp, ii., 232-234; ‘Come All Ye Fair and Tender Ladies’, Sharp, ii., 128-136; ‘Katie Morey’, Sharp, ii., 120; ‘Dear Companion’, Sharp, ii., 109; ‘George Reilly’, Sharp, ii., 26; ‘Awake, Awake’, Sharp, i., 358-364, and Petrie, Nos. 1222 and 265. A note on this song in the Social Harp says that the compiler, John G. McCurry, Hartwell, Georgia, “when eight years old, learned the air of this tune from Mrs. Catherine Penn.” That was therefore in the year 1829. Text passages in the secular ballads which remind of those in the fasola song are seen in ‘In Old Virginny’, where we read: I am a man of constant sorrow, I have seen troubles all my days. I’ll bid farewell to old Virginia, The place where I was partly raised. We see also in ‘Awake, Awake’, how the poor wayfaring stranger appears as “your true love” who “is going away.” No. 41
ZION’S SOLDIER, SWP 118 Heptatonic aeolian, mode 4 a + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7). Christ is set on Zion’s hill; He receiveth sinners still: Who will serve this blessed King? Come, enlist, and help me sing. This soldier sure will be Happy in eternity, This soldier sure will be Happy in eternity. I by faith enlisted am in the service of the Lamb; Present pay I now receive, future happiness he’ll give. This soldier etc. Zion’s King my Captain is, conquest I shall never miss; Let the fiends of hell engage, fret and fume and roar in rage. Let the world their forces join, with the fiends of hell combine; Greater is my King than they, through him I shall win the day. Wicked men I scorn to fear, though they persecute me here; True, they may my body kill, but my King’s on Zion’s hill. What a Captain I have got! Is not mine a happy lot? Hear, ye worldlings, hear my song, this the language of my tongue. When this life’s short space is o’er, I shall live to die no more; Therefore will I take the sword, fight for Jesus Christ, my Lord. Come, ye worldlings, come enlist; ’tis the voice of Jesus Christ: Whosoever will may come; Jesus Christ refuseth none. Jesus is my Captain’s name, now, as yesterday, the same; In his name I notice give, all who come he will receive. Be persuaded, take his pay, all your sins he’ll wash away; Now in Jesus’ name believe; future happiness he’ll give. (last chorus) Yes! in heaven you sure will be praising God eternally. (repeat) For a related chorus text see ‘O Ye Young and Gay and Proud’ in this collection. The tune, claimed by William Walker, is keyed in the natural minor (aeolian) of a. I suggest the signature of one sharp, bringing the tune into the dorian mode, as more natural. No. 42
FEMALE CONVICT, SOH (1835) 160 Heptatonic aeolian, mode 4 a + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7) O sleep not my babe, for the morn of tomorrow Shall soothe me to slumber more tranquil than thine; The dark grave shall shield me from shame and from sorrow, Tho’ the deed and the doom of the guilty are mine. Not long shall the arm of affection enfold thee; Not long shalt thou hang on thy mother’s fond breast; And who with the eye of delight shall behold thee, And watch thee and guard thee when I am at rest? And yet it doth grieve me to wake thee, my dearest, The pangs of thy desolate mother to see; Thou wilt weep when the clank of my cold chains thou hearest; And none but the guilty should weep over me. And yet I must wake thee, and whilst thou art weeping, To calm thee I’ll stifle my tears for a while. Thou smil’st in thy dreams whilst thus placidly sleeping, And O how it wounds me to gaze on thy smile. Alas, my sweet babe, with what pride I had press’d thee To the bosom that now throbs with terror and shame, If the pure tie of virtue’s affection had bless’d thee, And hail’d thee the heir of thy father’s high name. But now with remorse that avails not I mourn thee, Forsaken and friendless as soon thou wilt be, In a world, if they cannot betray, that will scorn thee, Avenging the guilt of thy mother on thee. And when the dark thought of my fate shall awaken The deep blush of shame on thy innocent cheek, Then by all but the God of the orphan forsaken, A home and a father in vain thou wilt seek. I know that the base world will seek to deceive thee With falsehood like that which thy mother beguiled; Deserted and helpless, with whom can I leave thee? O God of the fatherless, pity my child! The tune shows remarkable similarity to ‘As I Was A-Walking’ or ‘Grenadier and the Lady’, see JFSS viii., 194; also to ‘Westron Wynde’ from the early 16th century, see Jackson, English Melodies from the 13th to the 18th Century, p. 11. ‘Female Convict’ was widely sung in the early nineteenth century. The full title reads: “A Female Convict, After receiving pardon in the sight of God, thus addrest her infant. Set to music by R. Boyd.” No. 43
WEDLOCK (B), OSH 115 Heptatonic aeolian, mode 2 A + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7) When Adam was created, he dwelt in Eden’s shade, As Moses has related, before a bride was made. Ten thousand times ten thousand of creatures swarm’d around, Before a bride was formed or any mate was found. He had no consolation, but seemed as one alone, Till, to his admiration, he found he’d lost a bone. This woman was not taken from Adam’s head, we know; And she must not rule o’er him, ’tis evidently so. This woman she was taken from near to Adam’s heart, By which we are directed that they should never part. The book that’s called the bible, be sure you don’t neglect, For in every sense of duty, it will you both direct. The woman is commanded to do her husband’s will, In everything that’s lawful, her duty to fulfill. Great was his exultation to see her by his side; Great was his elevation to have a loving bride. This woman she was taken from under Adam’s arm; And she must be protected from injury and harm. This woman was not taken from Adam’s feet, we see; And she must not be abus-ed, the meaning seems to be. The husband is commanded to love his loving bride, And live as does a Christian, and for his house provide. The woman is commanded her husband to obey, In everything that’s lawful, until her dying day. Avoiding all offenses, not sow the seed of strife, These are the solemn duties of every man and wife. A variant of the third line of the first stanza, found in SOC 188, reads: Ten thousand times ten thousand things wheel-ed all around. The tune is especially announced in the Sacred Harp as “original” and by Elder E. Dumas, a Primitive Baptist. And it is dated 1869. An older tune to the same text is given in this collection as ‘Wedlock (A)’. See also ‘Wedlock’, Sharp, ii., 272. ‘The Banks of Newfoundland’, a capstan shanty, is essentially the same tune. See JFSS, v., 300. No. 44
LEP’ROUS JEW, SWP 43 Heptatonic aeolian, mode 2 A + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7) Behold the lep’rous Jew, Oppress’d with pain and grief, Pouring his tears at Jesus’ feet, For pity and relief, For pity and relief. “O speak the word,” he cries, “and heal me of my pain: Lord, thou art able, if thou wilt, to make a leper clean, To make a leper clean.” Compassion moves his heart, he speaks the gracious word; The leper feels his strength return, and all his sickness cured, And all his sickness cured. To thee, dear Lord, I look, sick of a worse disease; Sin is my painful malady, and none can give me ease, And none can give me ease. But thy almighty grace can heal my lep’rous soul; O bathe me in thy precious blood and that will make me whole, And that will make me whole. A tune quite similar to the one above, though cast in two-four time, is ‘Dependence’, HH 250. No. 45
SPRING PLACE or CHURCH OF MY YOUTH, GOS 44 Hexatonic, mode 2 b (I — 3 IV V 6 7) I’m thinking today of the church of my youth, Where first I rejoic’d at the sound of the truth, Where oft I assembled with those that I love, And join’d them in praising our Father above. Ah! well I remember, when youthful and gay, In mirthfulness sporting while time sped away, With my parents went to the house of the Lord, And wonder’d what made them rejoice in His word. But when my dear Savior, so precious to me, My blind eyes did open, my sins all to see, With fearfulness, trembling, too great to express, I went to that house fill’d with woe and distress. When Jesus, my blessed Redeemer and Friend, Reveal’d that He was the Beginning and End, I long’d for the season of worship once more, That I might join His saints, His dear name adore. And when in that dear place of worship and praise, My voice with His saints I endeavor’d to raise, My heart fill’d with love and my hope bright and clear, I thought surely trouble could no more appear. When deeply impress’d with a sense of His love, When this world could no more a resting place prove, I went with a feeling I could not control, And told what my Savior had done for my soul. With loving caresses they welcomed me home, And bade me no longer in darkness to roam; The great joy of that hour I never can tell, When I with such friends was permitted to dwell. Though now sunder’d far from that blessed abode, I feel, that I’m still with the children of God. Dear brethren, I love you in deed and in truth, Yet my heart oft goes to the church of my youth. Ah! well I remember their kindness to me, In my memory now their kind deeds I can see; Wherever my lot is to publish the truth, I’ll never forget the church of my youth. The oldest occurrence of the text seems to be in the Hesperian Harp, 1848. This song is a parody (words and music) of ‘In the Days of My Youth’, Beggars Opera, No. 42; Act 3, Scene 1. The tune there was that sung earlier to ‘A Shepherd Kept Sheep’. No. 46
REDEMPTION (B), OSH 501 Hexatonic, mode 2 A (I II 3 IV V — 7) Come, friends and relations, let’s join hearts and hands; The voice of the turtle is heard in the land. Let’s all walk together and follow the sound, And march to the place where redemption is found. The place it is hidden, the place it is seal’d, The place it is hidden till it is reveal’d; The place is in Jesus, to Jesus we’ll go, And there find redemption from sorrow and wo. That place it is hidden by reason of sin; Alas! you can’t see the sad state you are in! You’re blind and polluted, in prison and pain; O how can such rebels redemption obtain! But if you are wounded and bruised by the fall, Then up and be doing! For you he doth call; And if you are tempted to doubt and despair, Then come home to Jesus, redemption is there. And you, my dear brethren, that love my dear Lord, Have witness for pardon, thro’ faith in his blood; Let patience attend you wherever you go, Your Savior has purchased redemption for you. The tune of ‘Redemption (C)’ is a variant of the above, as is also that of ‘Redemption (A)’. See the last named song for mention of its tune relationship to the ‘Grenadier and the Lady’. No. 47
WEEPING MARY (B), SWP 102 Hexatonic, mode 2 A (I II 3 IV V — 7) When weeping Mary came to seek Her loving Lord and Savior, ’Twas early in the morning she In tears to gain his favor. With guards and soldiers placed around The tomb that held the body Of him whom she thought under ground, By wicked hands all bloody. But how her aching heart was torn, To find the tomb was empty, In solemn silence did she mourn, As onward she did venture. ’Twas angels in bright raiment shone, Anticipate [imagine?] her sorrow, And said, why doth this creature mourn, And why this gloomy horror. Whom seek’st thou, Mary, they did say, And why this solemn mourning? Because they’ve took my Lord away, I thought to see this morning. He, standing by her, though unknown, She thought it was the gardener; In flowing tears she made her moan, Not knowing ’twas her partner. I’ll grieve, and my poor Mary said, ’Till I know where they laid him; And quickly turning round her head, Began for to upbraid him. Whom seek’st thou, Mary? said the Son; She then perceived her Savior, And quickly to his feet she run, Not fearing harm or danger. And now, like Mary, let us go And kiss the feet of Jesus, That we may hear his word also, Which he delights to give us. From God we have the word of life, Through Christ the Mediator; Like him we hope to die and rise, And dwell with the Creator. A version of both tune and words is found in Ingalls’ Christian Harmony of 1805, p. 73. Its seventh and eighth stanzas, reminding of the above text, are: When weeping Mary came to seek Her Lord with a perfume, The napkin and the sheet she found Together in the tomb. The angels said, he is not here; He’s risen from the dead; And streams of grace to sinners flow, As free as did his blood. The tune shows unmistakable family resemblance to a number of secular folk-melodies. See for example the score of ‘Daemon Lover’ tunes, Sharp, i., pp. 244-258; ‘Lady Maisry’, Sharp, i., 97; ‘Locks and Bolts’, Sharp, ii., 17; ‘Betty Anne’, Sharp, ii., 37; ‘Swing a Lady’, Sharp, ii., 379. No. 48
REDEMPTION (A), WH 101 Heptatonic aeolian, mode 4 a + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7) Come, friends and relations, let’s join heart and hand, The voice of the turtle is heard in our land. Let’s all join together and follow the sound, And march to the place where redemption is found. The tune was perhaps the inspiration of R. Boyd in making the melody for ‘Female Convict’, which is in this collection. (Or did the influence flow in the opposite direction?) The ‘Grenadier and the Lady’, as sung in England, is practically the same tune. See JFSS, viii., 194. Full text and a variant melody are given under ‘Redemption (B)’. An ancestor of all these tunes seems to be ‘Westron Wynde’ of the early part of the sixteenth century. See Jackson, English Melodies from the 13th to the 18th Century, p. 11. No. 49
PRODIGAL, SKH 35 Heptatonic aeolian, mode 2 A + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7) Afflictions, tho’ they seem severe, Are oft in mercy sent; They stopt the prodigal’s career And caused him to repent, Altho’ he no relenting felt Till he had spent his store; His stubborn heart began to melt When famine pinch’d him sore. What have I gain’d by sin, he said, but hunger, shame and fear; My father’s house abounds with bread, while I am starving here. I’ll go and tell him all I’ve done, fall down before his face; Unworthy to be called his son, I’ll seek a servant’s place. The father saw him coming back, he looked, he ran, he smiled; He throws his arms around the neck of his rebellious child. Father, I’ve sinned, but O forgive; enough, the father said. Rejoice, my house, my son’s alive for whom I mourn’d as dead. Now let the fatted calf be slain, go spread the news around; My son was dead, but lives again, was lost but now is found. ’Tis thus the Lord his love reveals, to call poor sinners home. More than a father’s love he feels and welcomes all that come. Davisson, the compiler of the SKH, claimed this tune. It functioned as the melodic material out of which the “fuguing” tune ‘Alabama’, in the Sacred Harp, was built. No. 50
HAPPY SOULS (A), OL 145 Hexatonic, mode 4 A (I II — IV V VI 7) O happy souls, how fast you go, And leave me far behind! Don’t stay for me, for now I see, The Lord is good and kind. Go on, go on, my soul says go; And I’ll come after you; Tho’ I’m behind, I feel inclin’d To sing hosanna too. God give you strength your race to run And keep your footsteps right; Though fast you go and I so slow, You are not out of sight. When you get to that world above, And all God’s glory see, On that bright shore, your journey o’er, Then look you out for me. I’m coming on fast as I can. Nor toil nor danger fear; God give me strength!—may I at length Be one among you there. Then all together we shall meet— Together we will sing; Together we will praise our God And everlasting King. The tune is one of the comparatively few correct dorian recordings—not minorized—in the fasola song books. The compiler of the Olive Leaf gives the following note below the song: “I learned this air of Rev. Samuel Anthony, of Georgia, more than thirty years ago, Wm. Hauser, M. D., March, 1878.” See Introduction, p. 14, as to the ‘Babe of Bethlehem’ tune family to which ‘Happy Souls’ belongs. An Irish variant is ‘The Peevish Child’, Petrie, No. 591. No. 51
BABE OF BETHLEHEM, SOH 78 Hexatonic, mode 4 a (I II — IV V 6 7) Ye nations all, on you I call, Come hear this declaration, And don’t refuse this glorious news, Of Jesus and salvation. To royal Jews came first the news Of Christ the great Messiah, As was foretold by prophets old, Isaiah, Jeremiah. To Abraham the promise came, And to his seed forever, A light to shine in Isaac’s line, By scripture we discover; Hail, promised morn, the Savior’s born, The glorious Mediator— God’s blessed word made flesh and blood, Assumed the human nature. His parents poor in earthly store, To entertain the stranger They found no bed to lay his head, But in the ox’s manger; No royal things, as used by kings, Were seen by those that found him, But in the hay the stranger lay, With swaddling bands around him. On the same night a glorious light To shepherds there appeared, Bright angels came in shining flame, They saw and greatly feared; The angels said, “Be not afraid, Although we much alarm you, We do appear good news to bear, As now we will inform you. “The city’s name is Bethlehem, In which God hath appointed, This glorious morn a Savior’s born, For him God hath anointed; By this you’ll know, if you will go To see this little stranger, His lovely charms in Mary’s arms, Both lying in a manger.” When this was said, straightway was made A glorious sound from heaven, Each flaming, tongue an anthem sung, “To men a Savior’s given, In Jesus’ name, the glorious theme, We elevate our voices, At Jesus’ birth be peace on earth, Meanwhile all heaven rejoices.” Then with delight they took their flight, And wing’d their way to glory, The shepherds gazed and were amazed, To hear the pleasing story; To Bethlehem they quickly came, The glorious news to carry, And in the stall they found them all, Joseph, the Babe, and Mary. The shepherds then return’d again, To their own habitation, With joy of heart they did depart, Now they have found salvation. Glory, they cry, to God on high, Who sent his son to save us, This glorious morn the Savior’s born, His name it is Christ Jesus. The tune, evidently dorian, is of a type that was widely used and varied by folk singers. I mentioned this type in the Introduction, page 14, and called it the ‘Babe of Bethlehem’ family of tunes because the above seems to have been one of its best members. Other members, in either the dorian or the aeolian mode, are ‘Happy Souls (A)’, ‘Marion’, ‘Atonement’, and ‘Enquirer’ in this collection; related spiritual tunes not included here are ‘Help me to Sing’, OSH 376; ‘Staunton’, SKH 26; ‘Melody’, PB 313; ‘Brownson’, OL 259; ‘Howland’, REV 73; and ‘Sweet Prospect’, OSH 65. Related worldly songs are ‘The Peevish Child’, Petrie, No. 591; a song without title, Petrie, No. 193; ‘When First I Left Old Ireland’, Petrie, No. 863; ‘Lowlands of Holland’, Sharp, i., 200; ‘Virginian Lover’, Sharp, ii., 149; and ‘The Little Red Lark of the Mountain’, Petrie, No. 383. John Powell has set ‘Babe of Bethlehem’ in a beautiful dorian-mixolydian form for mixed chorus. It is published by J. Fischer and Brother, New York.
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