the otterbein hymnal for use in public and social worship. prepared by edmund s. lorenz. dayton, ohio: united brethren publishing house, . the general conference of the church of the united brethren in christ, at its session in may, , ordered,-- "that a small hymnal, adapted to general church purposes, be published soon." _advisory committee_ musical. samuel e. kumler. calvin h. lyon. mrs. a.r. shauck. judge john a. shauck literary. prof. j.p. landis, d.d., ph.d. copyright, , by w.j. shuey, agent. introduction the general conference of ordered the publication of a hymnal that should be fully adapted to the needs of our church. in compliance with these instructions, the publishing agent, rev. w.j. shuey, arranged for its issue. rev. e.s. lorenz, well and favorably known throughout the church, was asked to edit it, and, with the assistance of a thoroughly competent committee, has accomplished his task. i have carefully examined it in every part, and cannot see where any improvement can be made. it is pre-eminently a united brethren hymn-book, providing as it does for every phase of our characteristic church life. it combines the solidity and stateliness of the standard hymns of the ages, with the life and sprightliness of the modern gospel song. the most recent songs are here for the young people, while the older members of the church will hail with delight the reappearance of old songs dear to the hearts of many of us, because they are precious and good, and because our mothers sang them. meeting every need of the public service, revival and social meetings, the sunday-school, and the family, i can most cheerfully recommend this collection of hymns to our people, and trust that it will speedily be permitted to bring its help and blessing into every united brethren church in our broad land, and beyond the seas, and that it will prove one of the many tender ties that unite our widely scattered members. a. weaver, _senior bishop._ dayton, ohio, april , . preface. to he useful, a hymnal must express the peculiar type of christian life characterizing the denomination it is to serve. the church of the united brethren in christ emphasizes the necessity of christian experience--experimental religion, the fathers would have phrased it--and recognises revival effort as the characteristic phase of its church activity; hence, its hymnal must furnish ample expression for its full and varied christian experience and large facilities for revival work. in attempting to do this, the other phases of church life, which it has in common with other denominations, have not been forgotten or ignored, and it is hoped this collection of hymns and songs will be found as full and symmetrical as the church life it seeks to express. in order to meet the needs of the many stages of literary and musical culture, hymns and tunes of the highest artistic merit stand side by side with songs whose practical value and spiritual purpose must atone for lack of literary and musical grace. doubtless many favorites will be missed from these pages, but the body of popular sacred songs is so large and rich that it was impossible to include everything desirable in so small a volume. to the many brethren, whose number makes personal mention impossible, who kindly responded to a call for suggestions and advice, the thanks of the editor are due. while all could not be accepted, they have been very helpful, and have had large influence in giving character to the book. the valuable assistance furnished by the advisory committee deserves most kindly and hearty recognition. the owners of the many valuable copyright songs, in connection with which their names severally appear, will accept thanks for the kindness which so greatly enriches these pages. that this volume will prove an effective instrument in the hands of the workers of the church of the united brethren in christ for the accomplishment of great and lasting good, and bring to many hearts the same comfort and joy which its preparation brought to that of the editor, is his earnest hope and prayer. e.s.l. dayton ohio, april , . (otterbein hymnal.) table of contents worship: nos. general praise - sanctuary - sabbath day - morning and evening - holy scriptures - god, being and attributes - christ: incarnation and birth - life and character - suffering and death - resurrection and ascension - exaltation and reign - holy spirit - man's lost estate: man a sinner - atonement provided - invitation - warning - repentance - the christian life: conversion - consecration - love and praise to christ - graces and privileges - faith and trust - affliction - prayer - christian activity - christian warfare - the christian church: security and success - missions - ministry - church fellowship - ordinances - the life beyond: death - judgment - eternity and heaven - miscellaneous - the otterbein hymnal. gloria patri. glory be to the father, and to the son, and to the holy ghost, and to the holy ghost, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end, world without end. amen. gloria patri. glory be to the father, and to the son, and to the holy ghost, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. amen. old hundred. l.m. _psalm ._ ( ) before jehovah's awful throne, ye nations, bow with sacred joy; know that the lord is god alone; he can create, and he destroy. his sovereign power, without our aid, made us of clay, and formed us men; and when like wandering sheep we strayed, he brought us to his fold again. we are his people, we his care-- our souls, and all our mortal frame; what lasting honors shall we rear, almighty maker, to thy name? we'll crowd thy gates with thankful songs, high as the heavens our voices raise; and earth, with her ten thousand tongues, shall fill thy courts with sounding praise. wide as the world is thy command; vast as eternity thy love; firm as a rock thy truth shall stand, when rolling years shall cease to move. isaac watts. old hundred. l.m. _all men invited to praise god._ ( ) from all that dwell below the skies let the creator's praise arise; let the redeemer's name be sung, through every land, by every tongue. eternal are thy mercies, lord; eternal truth attends thy word; thy praise shall sound from shore to shore, till suns shall rise and set no more. your lofty themes, ye mortals, bring, in songs of praise divinely sing: the great salvation loud proclaim, and shout for joy the savior's name. in every land begin the song; to every land the strains belong; in cheerful sounds all voices raise, and till the world with loudest praise. isaac watts, . old hundred. l.m. _psalm ._ ( ) awake, my soul, awake my tongue, my god demands the grateful song; let all my inmost powers record the wondrous mercy of the lord. divinely free his mercy flows, forgives my sins, allays my woes, and bids approaching death remove, and crowns me with indulgent love. his mercy, with unchanging rays, forever shines, while time decays; and children's children shall record the truth and goodness of the lord. while all his works his praise proclaim and men and angels bless his name, oh, let my heart, my life, my tongue attend, and join the blissful song! anne steele, . old hundred. l.m. _doxology._ praise god, from whom all blessings flow; praise him, all creatures here below; praise him above, ye heavenly host; praise father, son and holy ghost. thos. ken. lord of all being. l.m. _omnipresence._ ( ) lord of all being! throned afar, thy glory flames from sun and star; center and soul of ev'ry sphere, yet to each loving heart how near! sun of our life! thy quick'ning ray sheds on our path the glow of day; star of our hope! thy softened light cheers the long watches of the night. our midnight is thy smile withdrawn; our noontide is thy gracious dawn; our rainbow arch thy mercy's sign; all, save the clouds of sin, are thine. grant us thy truth to make us free, and kindling hearts that burnt for thee, till all thy living altars claim one holy light, one heavenly flame. oliver wendell holmes, . duke street. l.m. _the majesty of god._ ( ) come, oh, my soul, in sacred lays, attempt thy great creator's praise; but oh! what tongue can speak his fame? what mortal verse can reach the theme? enthroned amidst the radiant spheres, he glory like a garment wears; to form a robe of light divine, ten thousand suns around him shine. in all our master's grand designs, omnipotence with wisdom shines; his works, through all this wondrous frame, bear the great impress of his name. raised on devotion's lofty wing, do thou, my soul! his glories sing; and let his praise employ thy tongue, till listening worlds applaud the song. thomas blacklock, . rockingham. l.m. _life-long praise._ ( ) god of my life! through all my days my grateful powers shall sound my praise; the song shall wake with opening light, and warble to the silent night. when anxious cares would break my rest, and griefs would tear my throbbing breast, thy tuneful praises, raised on high, shall check the murmur and the sigh. when death o'er nature shall prevail, and all its powers of language fail, joy thro' my swimming eyes shall break, and mean the thanks i cannot speak. soon shall i learn th' exalted strains, which echo o'er the heavenly plains, and emulate, with joy unknown, the growing seraphs round thy throne. philip doddridge, . rockingham. l.m. _psalm ._ ( ) oh, render thanks to god above, the fountain of eternal love; whose mercy firm, through ages past, hath stood, and shall forever last. who can his mighty deeds express, not only vast--but numberless? what mortal eloquence can raise his tribute of immortal praise? extend to me that favor, lord, thou to thy chosen dost afford; when thou return'st to set them free. let thy salvation visit me. tate-brady. rockingham. l.m. _god revealed in christ._ ( ) now to the lord, a noble song! awake, my soul! awake, my tongue, hosanna to th' eternal name, and all his boundless love proclaim. see where it shines in jesus' face,-- the brightest image of his grace! god, in the person of his son, has all his mightiest works outdone. grace!--'tis a sweet, a charming theme; my thoughts rejoice at jesus' name: ye angels! dwell upon the sound; ye heavens! reflect it to the ground. oh! may i live to reach the place, where he unveils his lovely face, where all his beauties you behold, and sing his name to harps of gold. isaac watts, . rockingham. l.m. _unceasing praise._ ( ) my god! my king! thy various praise shall fill the remnant of my days; thy grace employ my humble tongue, till death and glory raise the song. the wings of every hour shall bear some thankful tribute to thine ear; and every setting sun shall see new works of duty, done for thee. but who can speak thy wondrous deeds? thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds; vast and unsearchable thy ways-- vast and immortal be thy praise. isaac watts, . otterbein. l.m. _psalm ._ ( ) oh, come, loud anthems let us sing, loud thanks to our almighty king! for we our voices high should raise, when our salvation's rock we praise. into his presence let us haste, to thank him for his favors past; to him address, in joyful songs, the praise that to his name belongs. oh, let us to his courts repair, and bow with adoration there; down on our knees, devoutly, all before the lord, our maker, fall. nahum tate, . park street. l.m. _joining in praise._ ( ) sweet is the work, my god! my king! to praise thy name, give thanks and sing; to show thy love by morning light, and talk of all thy truth at night. sweet is the day of sacred rest; no mortal care shall seize my breast; o may my heart in tune be found, like david's harp of solemn sound. my heart shall triumph in the lord, and bless his works, and bless his word; thy works of grace, how bright they shine! how deep thy counsels! how divine! isaac watts. harvey's chant. c. m. _the goodness of god in his works._ ( ) hail! great creator, wise and good! to thee our songs we raise; nature, through all her various scenes, invites us to thy praise. at morning, noon, and evening mild, fresh wonders strike our view; and, while we gaze, our hearts exult with transports ever new. thy glory beams in every star, which gilds the gloom of night; and decks the smiling face of morn with rays of cheerful light. and while, in all thy wondrous ways, thy varied love we see; oh, may our hearts, great god, be led through all thy works to thee. anon. . harvey's chant. c.m. _praise at all times._ ( ) my soul shall praise thee, o my god through all my mortal days, and in eternity prolong thy vast, thy boundless praise. in every smiling, happy hour, be this my sweet employ; thy praise refines my earthly bliss, and heightens all my joy. when anxious grief and gloomy care afflict my throbbing breast, my tongue shall learn to speak thy praise, and lull each pain to rest. nor shall my tongue alone proclaim the honors of my god; my life, with all its active powers, shall spread thy praise abroad. and when these lips shall cease to move, when death shall close these eyes, my soul shall then to nobler heights of joy and transport rise. o. heigenbotham. harvey's chant. c.m. _psalm ._ ( ) lift up to god the voice of praise, whose breath our souls inspired; loud, and more loud the anthem raise, with grateful ardor fired. lift up to god the voice of praise, whose goodness, passing thought, loads every minute as it flies, with benefits unsought. lift up to god the voice of praise from whom salvation flows, who sent his son, our souls to save from everlasting woes. lift up to god the voice of praise, for hope's transporting ray, which lights, through darkest shades of death, to realms of endless day. ralph wardlaw, . nicæa s, s, & s. _adoration._ holy, holy, holy! lord god almighty! early in the morning our song shall rise to thee; holy, holy, holy! merciful and mighty! god over all and blest eternally. holy, holy, holy! all saints adore thee, casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea; cherubim and seraphim falling down before thee, who wast, and art, and evermore shall be. holy, holy, holy! tho' the darkness hide thee, though the eye of sinful man thy glory may not see; only thou art holy, there is none beside thee; perfect in power, in love, and purity. holy, holy, holy! lord god almighty! all thy works shall praise thy name in earth, and sky, and sea; holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty! god over all, and blest eternally. reginald heber--_alt._ nicæa s, s, & s. _psalm ._ ( ) sing to the lord jehovah's name, and in his strength rejoice; when his salvation is our theme, exalted be our voice. with thanks approach his awful sight, and psalms of honor sing; the lord's a god of boundless might-- the whole creation's king. come, and with humble souls adore; come, kneel before his face; oh, may the creatures of his power be children of his grace. now is the time--he bends his ear, and waits for your request; come, lest he rouse his wrath, and swear, "ye shall not see my rest." isaac watts, . st. thomas. s.m. _bless the lord._ ( ) oh, bless the lord, my soul! let all within me join, and aid my tongue to bless his name, whose favors are divine. oh, bless the lord, my soul, nor let his mercies lie forgotten in unthankfulness, and without praises die. 'tis he forgives thy sins-- 'tis he relieves thy pain-- 'tis he that heals thy sicknesses, and gives thee strength again. he crowns thy life with love, when ransomed from the grave; he who redeemed my soul from hell, hath sovereign power to save. isaac watts. silver street. s.m. _psalm ._ ( ) come, sound his praise abroad, and hymns of glory sing; jehovah is the sov'reign god, the universal king. he formed the deeps unknown; he gave the seas their bound; the watery worlds are all his own, and all the solid ground. come, worship at his throne; come, bow before the lord; we are his works, and not our own; he formed us by his word. to-day attend his voice, nor dare provoke his rod; come, like the people of his choice, and own your gracious god. isaac watts, . gates of praise. _gates of praise._ lift up the gates of praise, that we may enter in, and o'er salvation's walls proclaim that christ redeems from sin. cho.--the stars may praise the hand that decks the sky above, but man alone can tell the pow'r of christ's redeeming love. god's works reveal his might, his majesty and grace; but not the tender father's love that saves a dying race. then let the voice of praise to heavenly courts ascend, till with the songs the angels sing our hallelujahs blend. to him that hath redeemed our souls from sin's dark maze; the hope and savior of mankind, be everlasting praise. m. e. servoss. leighton. s.m. _exhortation to praise._ ( ) stand up, and bless the lord, ye people of his choice! stand up, and bless the lord, your god,. with heart, and soul, and voice. though high above all praise, above all blessing high, who would not fear his holy name, and laud and magnify? oh, for the living flame from his own altar brought, to touch our lips, our minds inspire, and wing to heaven our thought! god is our strength and song, and his salvation ours; then be his love in christ proclaimed, with all our ransomed powers. james montgomery, . wilmot. s & s. _psalm ._ ( ) praise the lord, ye heavens! adore him; praise him, angels in the height! sun and moon! rejoice before him; praise him, all ye stars of light! praise the lord, for he hath spoken; worlds his mighty voice obeyed; laws, which never shall be broken, for their guidance he hath made. praise the lord, for he is glorious; never shall his promise fail; god hath made his saints victorious; sin and death shall not prevail. praise the god of our salvation, hosts on high! his power proclaim heaven and earth, and all creation! laud and magnify his name. john kempthorne, . horton. s. _psalm ._ ( ) thank and praise jehovah's name; for his mercies, firm and sure, from eternity the same to eternity endure. let the ransomed thus rejoice, gathered out of every land; as the people of his choice, plucked from the destroyer's hand. praise him, ye who know his love; praise him from the depths beneath; praise him in the heights above; praise your maker all that breathe. for his truth and mercy stand, past, and present, and to be, like the years of his right hand-- like his own eternity. james montgomery, . hallelujah! s & s. _praise the lord._ hallelujah! song of gladness; song of everlasting joy; hallelujah! song the sweetest that can angel hosts employ. cho.--praise ye the lord! sing hallelujah! praise ye the lord! sing hallelujah! praise ye the lord! sing hallelujah! praise ye the lord! hallelujah! church victorious, thou mayst lift this joyful strain; hallelujah! songs of triumph, well befit the ransomed train. hallelujah! let our voices rise to heav'n with full accord; hallelujah! ev'ry moment brings us nearer to the lord. but our earnest supplication, holy god, we raise to thee; bring us to thy blissful presence. let us all thy glory see. anon. let us praise him to-day. s & s. _the universal song._ praise to thee, thou great creator! praise to thee from ev'ry tongue; join, my soul, with ev'ry creature, join the universal song. cho.--glory to the father and the son, glory to the spirit! three in one! let us praise him, let us praise him, let us praise him to-day, and sing his loving kindness on our way. father! source of all compassion! pure, unbounded grace is thine; hail the lord of our salvation! praise him for his love divine. for ten thousand blessings given, for the hope of future joy, sound his praise thro' earth and heaven, sound jehovah's praise on high. praise to god, our great creator! father, son, and holy ghost; praise him, ev'ry living creature, earth and heav'n's united host. j. w. fawcett, . lyons. s & s. _praise of divine love._ o worship the king, all-glorious above, and gratefully sing his wonderful love; our shield and defender, the ancient of days, pavilioned in splendor and girdled with praise. thy bountiful care, what tongue can recite? it breathes in the air, it shines in the light; it streams from the hills, it descends to the plain, and sweetly distills in the dew and the rain. frail children of dust, and feeble as frail, in thee do we trust, nor find thee to fail; thy mercies, how tender! how firm to the end, our maker, defender, redeemer, and friend! our father and god, how faithful thy love! while angels delight to hymn thee above, the humbler creation, though feeble their lays. with true adoration shall lisp to thy praise. sir robert grant, . lyons. s & s. _salvation to god._ ye servants of god, your master proclaim, and publish abroad his wonderful name. the name, all-victorious, of jesus extol; his kingdom is glorious, and rules over all. god ruleth on high, almighty to save; and still he is nigh, his presence we have; the great congregation his triumph shall sing, ascribing salvation to jesus our king. "salvation to god, who sits on the throne," let all cry aloud, and honor the son; our savior's high praises the angels proclaim,-- fall down on their faces, and worship the lamb. c. wesley, . gerar. s.m. _the glories of the sanctuary._ ( ) how charming is the place where my redeemer god unveils the glories of his face, and sheds his love abroad! here, on the mercy seat, with radiant glory crowned, our joyful eyes behold him sit, and smile on all around. to him their prayers and cries, each contrite soul presents; and while he hears their humble sighs he grants them all their wants. give me, o lord, a place within thy blest abode; among the children of thy grace, the servants of my god. s. stennett. hendon. s. _a blessing implored._ ( ) lord! we come before thee now; at thy feet we humbly bow; oh, do not our suit disdain; shall we seek thee, lord, in vain? send some message from thy word, that may joy and peace afford; let thy spirit now impart full salvation to each heart. comfort those who weep and mourn; let the time of joy return; those that are cast down lift up, strong in faith, in love, and hope. grant that those who seek may find thee, a god sincere and kind; heal the sick, the captive free, let us all rejoice in thee. william hammond, . sicily. s, s, & s. _opening of service._ ( ) in thy name, o lord! assembling, we, thy people, now draw near; teach us to rejoice with trembling; speak, and let thy servants hear-- hear with meekness-- hear thy word with godly fear. while our days on earth are lengthened, may we give them, lord, to thee; cheered by hope, and daily strengthened, may we run, nor weary be, till thy glory without clouds in heaven we see. there, in worship, purer, sweeter, thee thy people shall adore; tasting of enjoyment greater far than thought conceived before; full enjoyment, full, unmixed, and evermore. thomas kelly, . sicily. s, s, & s. _close of service._ ( ) lord, dismiss us with thy blessing, fill our hearts with joy and peace; let us each, thy love possessing, triumph in redeeming grace; oh! refresh us, traveling through this wilderness. thanks we give and adoration, for thy gospel's joyful sound; may the fruits of thy salvation in our hearts and lives abound; may thy presence with us, evermore, be found. so, whene'er the signal's given, us from earth to call away, borne on angel's wings to heaven, glad the summons to obey, we shall surely reign with christ in endless day. walter shirley, . sicily. s, s, & s. _plea for parting blessing._ ( ) god of our salvation! hear us; bless, oh, bless us, ere we go; when we join the world, be near us, lest we cold and careless grow. savior! keep us; keep us safe from every foe. as our steps are drawing nearer to our everlasting home, may our view of heaven grow clearer, hope more bright of joys to come; and, when dying, may thy presence cheer the gloom. thomas kelly, . mendon. l.m. _psalm ._ ( ) great god! attend while zion sings the joy that from thy presence springs; to spend one day with thee on earth exceeds a thousand days of mirth. might i enjoy the meanest place within thy house, o god of grace! not tents of ease, nor thrones of power, should tempt my feet to leave thy door. god is our sun, he makes our day; god is our shield, he guards our way from all th' assaults of hell and sin, from foes without and foes within. all needful grace will god bestow, and crown that grace with glory too; he gives us all things, and withholds no real good from upright souls. o god, our king! whose sovereign sway the glorious hosts of heaven obey, and devils at thy presence flee; blest is the man that trusts in thee! isaac watts, . mendon l.m. _the presence of christ._ ( ) how sweet to leave the world awhile, and seek the presence of our lord! dear savior! on thy people smile, and come, according to thy word. from busy scenes we now retreat, that we may here converse with thee: ah! lord! behold us at thy feet;-- let this the gate of heaven be. chief of ten thousand! now appear, that we by faith may see thy face; oh! speak, that we thy voice may hear and let thy presence fill this place. thomas kelly, . mendon. l.m. _psalm ._ ( ) how pleasant, how divinely fair, o lord of hosts, thy dwellings are! with long desire my spirit faints, to meet the assemblies of thy saints. my flesh would rest in thine abode; my panting heart cries out for god; my god! my king! why should i be so far from all my joys and thee? blest are the souls who find a place within the temple of thy grace; there they behold thy gentler rays, and seek thy face and learn thy praise. blest are the men whose hearts are set to find the way to zion's gate; god is their strength, and through the road they lean upon their helper, god. cheerful they walk with growing strength, till all shall meet in heaven at length; till all before thy face appear, and join in nobler worship there. isaac watts, ward. l.m. _before sermon._ ( ) thy presence, gracious god! afford: prepare us to receive thy word; now let thy voice engage our ear, and faith be mixed with what we hear. distracting thoughts and cares remove, and fix our hearts and hopes above; with food divine may we be fed and satisfied with living bread. to us thy sacred word apply, with sovereign power and energy; and may we, in thy faith and fear, reduce to practice what we hear. father, in us thy son reveal; teach us to know and do thy will; thy saving power and love display. and guide us to the realms of day. john fawcett. . migdol. l.m. _acts : ._ ( ) command thy blessing from above o god, on all assembled here; behold us with a father's love, while we look up with filial fear. command thy blessing, jesus, lord! may we thy true disciples be; speak to each heart the mighty word-- say to the weakest, follow me. command thy blessing in this hour, spirit of truth! and till the place with wounding and with healing power, with quickening and confirming grace. oh, thou, our maker, savior, guide, one true, eternal god confessed; whom thou hast joined none may divide, none dare to curse whom thou hast blest. james montgomery mear. c.m. _god's presence in sanctuary_. ( ) again our earthly cares we leave, and in thy courts appear; again, with joyful feet, we come to meet our savior here. within those walls let holy peace. and love, and concord dwell; here give the troubled conscience ease-- the wounded spirit heal. the feeling heart, the melting eye. the humble mind bestow; and shine upon us from on high, to make our graces grow. may we in faith receive thy word, in faith present our prayers; and in the presence of our lord, unbosom all our cares. shew us some token of thy love, our fainting hope to raise; and pour thy blessing from above, that we may render praise. john newton, , _a._ mear. c.m. _dedication_. ( ) oh, thou, whose own vast temple stands, built over earth and sea! accept the walls that human hands have raised to worship thee. lord! from thine inmost glory send, within these walls t' abide, the peace that dwelleth without end serenely by thy side! may erring minds, that worship here, be taught the better way; and they who mourn, and they who fear, be strengthened as they pray. may faith grow firm, and love grow warm, and pure devotion rise, while, round these hallowed walls, the storm of earth-born passion dies. william c. bryant, mear. c.m. _psalm ._ ( ) how did my heart rejoice to hear my friends devoutly say-- "in zion let us all appear-- and keep the solemn day!" i love her gates, i love the road; the church, adorned with grace, stands like a palace, built for god to show his milder face. up to her courts, with joys unknown, the holy tribes repair; the son of david holds his throne, and sits in judgment there. he hears our praises and complaints; and, while his awful voice divides the sinners from the saints, we tremble and rejoice. peace be within this sacred place, and joy a constant guest! with holy gifts and heavenly grace by her attendants blest! my soul shall pray for zion still, while life or breath remains; there my best friends, my kindred, dwell, there god, my saviour, reigns. isaac watts, lisbon. s.m. _the sabbath welcomed._ ( ) welcome! sweet day of rest, that saw the lord arise! welcome to this reviving breast, and these rejoicing eyes! the king himself comes near, and feasts his saints to-day; here we may sit and see him here, and love, and praise, and pray. one day in such a place, where thou, my god, art seen, is sweeter than ten thousand days of pleasurable sin. my willing soul would stay in such a frame as this, and sit and sing herself away to everlasting bliss. isaac watts, mendebras. s & s. d. _the sabbath holy._ o day of rest and gladness, o day of joy and light! o balm of care and sadness, most beautiful, most bright! on thee, the high and lowly, before th' eternal throne, sing holy! holy! holy! to the great three in one. on thee, at the creation. the light first had its birth; on thee for our salvation, christ rose from depths of earth. on thee, our lord, victorious, the spirit sent from heaven, and thus on thee, most glorious, a triple light was given. new graces ever gaining from this our day of rest, we reach the rest remaining to spirits of the blest; to holy ghost be praises, to father and to son; the church her voice upraises to thee, blest three in one. christopher wordsworth, . auburn. c.m. _sweet day of rest._ ( ) come, dearest lord, and feed thy sheep, on this sweet day of rest; oh, bless this flock, and make this fold enjoy a heavenly rest. welcome, and precious to my soul are these sweet days of love; but what a sabbath shall i keep when i shall rest above! i come, i wait, i hear, i pray; thy footsteps. lord. i trace; here, in thine own appointed way, i wait to see thy face. those are the sweet and precious days on which my lord i've seen; and oft, when feasting on his word, in raptures i have been. oh, if my soul, when death appears. in this sweet frame be found, i'll clasp my savior in mine arms, and leave this earthly ground. john mason, . auburn. c.m. _sabbath morn._ ( ) how sweetly breaks the sabbath dawn along the eastern skies! so, when the night of time hath gone, eternity shall rise. how softly spreads the sabbath light! how soon the gloom hath fled! so o'er the new created sight celestial bliss is spread. what quiet reigns o'er earth and sea, through all the stilly air! so calm may we this sabbath be, and free from worldly care. thus let thy peace, o lord! pervade our bosoms all our days; and let each passing hour be made a herald of thy praise. this peace of god--how full! how sweet it flows from jesus' breast; it makes our bliss on earth complete, it brings eternal rest. edwin f. hatfield, auburn. c.m. _the lord's day morning._ ( ) when the worn spirit wants repose, and sighs her god to seek, how sweet to hail the evening's close that ends the weary week! how sweet to hail the early dawn that opens on the sight, when first that soul-reviving morn sheds forth new rays of light! sweet day! thine hours too soon will cease; yet, while they gently roll, breathe, heavenly spirit, source of peace, a sabbath o'er my soul. when will my pilgrimage be done, the world's long week be o'er, that sabbath dawn which needs no sun, that day which fades no more? james edmeston, . sabbath. s, or lines. _blessing of the sabbath._ ( ) safely thro' another week, god has bro't us on our way; let us now a blessing seek, waiting in his courts to-day; day of all the week the best, emblem of eternal rest. while we seek supplies of grace through the dear redeemer's name, show thy reconciling face; take away our sin and shame; from our worldly cares set free; may we rest, this day, in thee. may the gospel's joyful sound conquer sinners, comfort saints, make the fruits of grace abound, bring relief from all complaints; thus let all our sabbaths prove, till we join the church above. john newton, . _a._ lischer. (german.) h.m. _rejoicing in the sabbath._ ( ) welcome, delightful morn! thou day of sacred rest; i hail thy kind return; lord, make these moments blest; from the low train of mortal toys i soar to reach immortal joys. now may the king descend, and fill his throne of grace; thy scepter, lord, extend, while saints address thy face! let sinners feel thy quickening word, and learn to know and fear the lord. descend, celestial dove, with all thy quickening powers; disclose a savior's love, and bless the sacred hours; then shall my soul new life obtain, nor sabbaths be indulged in vain. hayward, . spanish hymn, s, . _the day of rest._ ( ) welcome, sacred day of rest! sweet repose from worldly care; day above all days the best, when our souls for heav'n prepare; day, when our redeemer rose, victor o'er the hosts of hell; thus he vanquished all our foes; let our lips his glory tell. gracious lord! we love this day, when we hear thy holy word; when we sing thy praise, and pray, earth can no such joys afford; but a better rest remains, heav'nly sabbaths, happier days, rest from sin, and rest from pains, endless joys and endless praise. william brown, . last hope. s. _sabbath evening._ ( ) softly fades the twilight ray of the holy sabbath day; gently as life's setting sun, when the christian's course is run. night her solemn mantle spreads o'er the earth as daylight fades; all things tell of calm repose at the holy sabbath's close. peace is on the world abroad; 'tis the holy peace of god-- symbol of the peace within, when the spirit rests from sin. savior, may our sabbaths be days of peace and joy in thee, till in heav'n our souls repose, where the sabbath ne'er shall close. samuel f. smith, . lowry. l.m. _morning praise._ awake, my soul, and with the sun thy daily stage of duty run; shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise to pay thy morning sacrifice. awake, lift up thyself, my heart, and with the angels bear thy part, who all night long unwearied sing high praises to th' eternal king. glory to thee, who safe hast kept, and hast refreshed me when i slept; grant, lord, when i from death shall wake, i may of endless life partake. lord, i my vows to thee renew; scatter my sins as morning dew; guard my first springs of thought and will, and with thyself my spirit fill. bp. ken, . vigil. s.m. _morning song._ ( ) see how the morning sun pursues his shining way; and wide proclaims his maker's praise, with ev'ry bright'ning ray. thus would my rising soul its heavenly parent sing, and to its great original the humble tribute bring. serene i laid me down, beneath his guardian care; i slept, and i awoke, and found my kind preserver near. my life i would anew devote, o lord, to thee; and in thy service i would spend a long eternity. t. scott. evening prayer. s & s. _evening blessing desired._ ( ) savior, breathe an evening blessing, e'er repose our spirits seal; sin and want we come confessing, thou canst save and thou canst heal. though destruction walk around us, though the arrows past us fly; angel guards from thee surround us, we are safe if thou art nigh. though the night be dark and dreary, darkness cannot hide from thee; thou art he who, never weary, watchest where thy people be. should swift death this night o'ertake us, and our couch become our tomb, may the morn in heaven awake us, clad in bright and deathless bloom. james edmeston, . hursley. l.m. _evening hymn._ ( ) sun of my soul, thou savior dear, it is not night if thou be near; oh, may no earth-born cloud arise to hide thee from thy servant's eyes. when the soft dews of kindly sleep my weary eye-lids gently steep, be my last thought, how sweet to rest forever on my savior's breast. abide with me from morn till eve, for without thee i cannot live; abide with me when night is nigh, for without thee i dare not die. come near and bless us when we wake, ere thro' the world our way we take, till in the ocean of thy love we lose ourselves in heaven above. rev. j. keble, . eventide. s. _evening of the day._ abide with me: fast falls the eventide; the darkness deepens; lord, with me abide! when other helpers fail, and comforts flee, help of the helpless, oh, abide with me! not a brief glance i beg, a passing word, but as thou dwell'st with thy disciples, lord, familiar, condescending, patient, free, come, not to sojourn, but abide with me. i need thy presence every passing hour; what but thy grace can foil the tempter's power? who like thyself my guide and stay can be? thro' cloud and sunshine, oh, abide with me! swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away: change and decay in all around i see; o thou, who changest not, abide with me! henry francis lyte, . eventide. s. _closing hymn._ savior, again to thy dear name we raise with one accord our parting hymn of praise; we rise to bless thee ere our worship cease, and now, departing, wait thy word of peace. grant us thy peace upon our homeward way; with thee begun, with thee shall end the day; guard thou the lips from sin, the hearts from shame, that in this house have called upon thy name. grant us thy peace, lord, through the coming night; turn thou for us its darkness into light; from harm and danger keep thy children free, for dark and light are both alike to thee. john ellerton, . seymour, s. _evening devotion._ softly now the light of day fades upon my sight away; free from care, from labor free, lord, i would commune with thee. thou whose all pervading eye naught escapes without, within, pardon each infirmity, open fault, and secret sin. soon, for me, the light of day shall forever pass away; then, from sin and sorrow free, take me, lord, to dwell with thee. thou who, sinless, yet hast known all of man's infirmity; then from thine eternal throne, jesus, look with pitying eye. g.w. doane, . stockwell. s & s. _evening meditations._ silently the shades of evening gather round my lowly door; silently they bring before me faces i shall see no more. o the lost, the unforgotten, tho' the world be oft forgot! o the shrouded and the lonely! in our hearts they perish not. living in the silent hours, where our spirits only blend-- they, unlinked with earthly trouble; we, still hoping for its end. how such holy memories cluster, like the stars when storms are past; pointing up to that far heaven we may hope to gain at last. c.c. cox fading, still fading p.m., with refrain. _evening prayer_. fading, still fading, the last beam is shining; father in heaven, the day is declining; safety and innocence flee with the light, temptation and danger walk forth with the night. from the fall of the shade till the morning bells chime, shield us from danger, keep us from crime. ref.--father, have mercy, father, have mercy, father, have mercy, thro' jesus christ our lord. amen. father in heaven, o hear when we call; hear, for christ's sake, who is savior of all. feeble and fainting, we trust in thy might; in doubting and darkness thy love be our light; let us sleep on thy breast while the night taper burns, wake in thine arms when morning returns. selina huntingdon god be with you. p.m. _parting blessing._ god be with you till we meet again, by his counsels guide, uphold you, with his sheep securely fold you, god be with you till we meet again cho.--till we meet, till we meet, till we meet at jesus' feet; till we meet, till we meet, god be with you till we meet again. god be with you till we meet again, 'neath his wings securely hide you, daily manna still provide you, god be with you till we meet again. god be with you till we meet again, when life's perils thick confound you, put his arms unfailing round you, god be with you till we meet again. god be with you till we meet again, keep love's banner floating o'er you, smite death's threat'ning wave before you, god be with you till we meet again. j.e. rankin d.d. wonderful words. p.m. _words of life._ sing them over again to me, wonderful words of life, let me more of their beauty see, wonderful words of life, words of life and beauty, teach me faith and duty. cho.--beautiful words, wonderful words, wonderful words of life, beautiful words, wonderful words, wonderful words of life. christ the blessed one gives to all wonderful words of life; sinner, list to the loving call, wonderful words of life; all so freely given, wooing us to heaven. sweetly echo the gospel call, wonderful words of life; offer pardon and peace to all, wonderful words of life; jesus, only savior, sanctify forever. p.p. bliss. give me the bible. p.m. _the bible desired._ give me the bible, star of gladness gleaming, to cheer the wand'rer lone and tempest-tossed; no storm can hide that radiance peaceful beaming, since jesus came to seek and save the lost. cho.--give me the bible! holy message shining, thy light shall guide me in the narrow way. precept and promise, law and love combining, till night shall vanish in eternal day. give me the bible, when my heart is broken, when sin and grief have filled my soul with fear; give me the precious words by jesus spoken, hold up faith's lamp to show my savior near. give me the bible, all my steps enlighten, teach me the danger of these realms below; that lamp of safety, o'er the gloom shall brighten, that light alone the path of peace can show. give me the bible, lamp of life immortal, hold up that splendor by the open grave; show me the light from heaven's shining portal, show me the glory gilding jordan's wave. priscilla j. owens. shirland. s.m. _psalm ._ ( ) behold! the morning sun begins his glorious way; his beams thro' all the nations run, and life and light convey. but, where the gospel comes, it spreads diviner light; it calls dead sinners from the tombs and gives the blind their sight. how perfect is thy word! and all thy judgments just; forever sure thy promise, lord! and men securely trust. my gracious god! how plain are thy directions given! oh! may i never read in vain, but find the path to heaven. isaac watts, . dallas. s. _book divine._ holy bible, book divine, precious treasure, thou art mine; mine to tell me whence i came; mine to teach me what i am. mine to chide me when i rove; mine to show a savior's love; mine thou art to guide and guard; mine to punish or reward. mine to comfort in distress, suffering in this wilderness; mine to show, by living faith, man can triumph over death. mine to tell of joys to come, and the rebel sinner's doom; o thou holy book divine, precious treasure, thou art mine. john burton, . evan. c.m. _psalm ._ ( ) lord! i have made thy word my choice, my lasting heritage; there shall my noblest powers rejoice, my warmest thoughts engage. i'll read the histories of thy love, and keep thy laws in sight, while through the promises i rove, with ever fresh delight. 'tis a broad land of wealth unknown where springs of life arise; seeds of immortal bliss are sown, and hidden, glory lies. the best relief that mourners have-- it makes our sorrows blest; our fairest hope, beyond the grave, and our eternal rest. isaac watts, . evan. c.m. _the latter day._ ( ) lord! send thy word, and let it fly, armed with thy spirit's power; ten thousands shall confess its sway, and bless the saving hour. beneath the influence of its grace, the barren wastes shall rise, with sudden flowers and fruits arrayed,-- a blooming paradise. peace, with her olives crowned, shall stretch her wings from shore to shore; no trump shall rouse the rage of war, nor murderous cannon roar. lord! for these days we wait;--these days are in thy word foretold; fly swifter, sun and stars! and bring this promised age of gold. amen!--with joy divine, let earth's unnumbered myriads cry; amen!--with joy divine, let heaven's unnumbered choirs reply. thomas gibbons, . evan. c.m. _the incomparable richness of god's word._ ( ) father of mercies, in thy word what endless glory shines! forever be thy name adored for these celestial lines. here may the wretched sons of want exhaustless riches find-- riches above what earth can grant, and lasting as the mind. here the fair tree of knowledge grows, and yields a free repast; sublimer sweets than nature knows invite the longing taste. here the redeemer's welcome voice spreads heavenly peace around; and life and everlasting joys attend the blissful sound. oh, may these heavenly pages be my ever dear delight; and still new beauties may i see and still increasing light. anne steele, . devizes. c.m. _the bible our light._ ( ) how precious is the book divine, by inspiration given! bright as a lamp its doctrines shine, to guide our souls to heaven. its light, descending from above, our gloomy world to cheer, displays a savior's boundless love, and brings his glories near. it sweetly cheers our drooping hearts, in this dark vale of tears; life, light, and joy it still imparts, and quells our rising fears. this lamp, through all the tedious night of life, shall guide our way, till we behold the clearer light of an eternal day. john fawcett, . devizes. c.m. _psalm ._ ( ) how shall the young secure their hearts, and guard their lives from sin? thy word the choicest rules imparts to keep the conscience clean. 'tis like the sun, a heavenly light, that guides us all the day; and, through the dangers of the night, a lamp to lead our way. thy precepts make me truly wise; i hate the sinners' road; i hate my own vain thoughts that rise but love thy law, my god! thy word is everlasting truth; how pure is every page! that holy book shall guide our youth, and well support our age. isaac watts, . devizes. c.m. _perfection of the law and testimony._ ( ) thy law is perfect, lord of light; thy testimonies sure; the statutes of thy realm are right, and thy commandments pure. let these, o god, my soul convert, and make thy servant wise; let those be gladness to my ears-- the dayspring to mine eyes. by these may i be warned betimes; who knows the guile within? lord, save me from presumptuous crimes; cleanse me from secret sin. so may the words my lips express-- the thoughts that throng my mind-- o lord, my strength and righteousness, with thee acceptance find. c. wesley. manoah. c.m. _faithfulness._ begin, my tongue, some heavenly theme, and speak some boundless thing; the mighty works or mightier name of our eternal king. tell of his wondrous faithfulness, and sound his power abroad; sing the sweet promise of his grace, and the performing god. his very word of grace is strong, as that which built the skies; the voice that rolls the stars along, speaks all the promises. oh, might i hear thy heavenly tongue but whisper, "thou art mine!" those gentle words should raise my song to notes almost divine. isaac watts. manoah. c.m. _power_. the lord, our god, is full of might, the winds obey his will; he speaks,--and, in his heavenly height, the rolling sun stands still. rebel, ye waves, and o'er the land with threatening aspect roar; the lord uplifts his awful hand, and chains you to the shore. howl, winds of night, your force combine; without his high behest, ye shall not, in the mountain pine, disturb the sparrow's nest. his voice sublime is heard afar, in distant peals it dies; he yokes the whirlwind to his car, and sweeps the howling skies. ye nations bend--in reverence bend; ye monarchs, wait his nod, and bid the choral song ascend to celebrate your god. h. kirke white. manoah. c.m. _eternity._ great god! how infinite art thou! what worthless worms are we! let the whole race of creatures bow, and pay their praise to thee. thy throne eternal ages stood, ere seas or stars were made: thou art the ever-living god, were all the nations dead. eternity, with all its years, stands present in thy view; to thee there's nothing old appears-- great god! there's nothing new. our lives through various scenes are drawn, and vexed with trifling cares; while thine eternal thought moves on thine undisturbed affairs. great god! how infinite art thou! what worthless worms are we! let the whole race of creatures bow. and pay their praise to thee. isaac watts. italy. s & s. _the trinity adored._ ( ) come, thou almighty king! help us thy name to sing, help us to praise; father all glorious! o'er all victorious, come and reign over us, ancient of days! come, thou incarnate word! gird on thy mighty sword; our prayer attend: come, and thy people bless, and give thy word success; spirit of holiness, on us descend. come, holy comforter! thy sacred witness bear in this glad hour: thou who almighty art, now rule in every heart, and ne'er from us depart, spirit of power! to the great one in three, the highest praises be, hence, evermore! his sovereign majesty may we in glory see, and to eternity love and adore. charles wesley, . all saints. l.m. _praise to the trinity_ ( ) blest be the father and his love, to whose celestial source we owe rivers of endless joy above, and rills of comfort here below. glory to thee, great son of god! from whose dear, wounded body rolls a precious stream of vital blood-- pardon and life for dying souls we give the sacred spirit praise, who, in our hearts of sin and woe, makes living springs of grace arise, and into boundless glory flow. thus, god, the father, god, the son, and god, the spirit, we adore; that sea of life and love unknown, without a bottom or a shore. isaac watts, . elizabethtown. c.m. _god incomprehensible._ ( ) thy way, o god! is in the sea, thy paths i cannot trace; nor comprehend the mystery of thine unbounded grace. 'tis but in part i know thy will; i bless thee for the sight; when will thy love the rest reveal, in glory's clearer light? here the dark veils of flesh and sense my captive soul surround; mysterious deeps of providence my wondering thoughts confound. as through a glass i dimly see the wonders of thy love; how little do i know of thee, or of the joys above! with rapture i shall soon survey thy providence and grace; and spend an everlasting day in wonder, love, and praise. john fawcett, . elizabethtown. c.m. _eternity of god._ ( ) o god! our help in ages past, our hope for years to come; our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home. under the shadow of thy throne, still may we dwell secure; sufficient is thine arm alone, and our defense is sure. before the hills in order stood, or earth received her frame, from everlasting thou art god, to endless years the same. a thousand ages in thy sight are like an evening gone; short as the watch that ends the night, before the rising sun. the busy tribes of flesh and blood, with all their cares and fears, are carried downward by the flood, and lost in following years. isaac watts, . elizabethtown. c.m. _divine perfections._ ( ) i sing th' almighty power of god, that made the mountains rise, that spread the flowing seas abroad, and built the lofty skies. i sing the wisdom that ordained the sun to rule the day; the moon shines full at his command, and all the stars obey. i sing the goodness of the lord, that filled the earth with food; he formed the creatures with his word, and then pronounced them good. lord! how thy wonders are displayed where'er i turn mine eye! if i survey the ground i tread, or gaze upon the sky. isaac watts. dundee. c.m. _our heavenly father._ ( ) my god how wonderful thou art! thy majesty how bright! how beautiful thy mercy seat, in depths of burning light. how dread are thine eternal years, oh, everlasting lord! by prostrate spirits day and night, incessantly adored. oh, how i fear thee, living god! with deepest, tenderest fears, and worship thee with trembling hope, and penitential tears. yet i may love thee, too, o lord! almighty as thou art, for thou hast stooped to ask of me the love of this poor heart. no earthly father loves like thee, no mother, half so mild, bears and forbears as thou hast done with me, thy sinful child. father of jesus! love's reward! what rapture will it be, prostrate before thy throne to lie, and gaze and gaze on thee. frederick wm. faber, . dundee. c.m. _god's ways not understood._ ( ) god moves in a mysterious way, his wonders to perform; he plants his footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm. deep in unfathomable mines of never-failing skill, he treasures up his bright designs, and works his sovereign will. ye fearful saints! fresh courage take; the clouds ye so much dread, are big with mercy, and shall break in blessings on your head. judge not the lord by feeble sense, but trust him for his grace; behind a frowning providence, he hides a smiling face. his purposes will ripen fast, unfolding every hour; the bud may have a bitter taste, but sweet will be the flower. blind unbelief is sure to err, and scan his work in vain; god is his own interpreter, and he will make it plain. william cowper, . dundee. c.m. _majesty. ps. ._ the lord descended from above, and bowed the heavens most high; and underneath his feet he cast the darkness of the sky. on cherub and on cherubim full royally he rode; and on the wings of mighty winds came flying all abroad. he sat serene upon the floods, their fury to restrain; and he, as sovereign lord and king, forevermore shall reign. thomas sternhold, d. . triumph. l.m. _the goodness of god._ ( ) yes, god is good; in earth and sky, from ocean depths and spreading wood, ten thousand voices seem to cry, "god made us all, and god is good." the sun that keeps his trackless way, and downward pours his golden flood, night's sparkling hosts all seem to sky, in accents clear, that god is good. yes, god is good, all nature says, by god's own hand with speech endued; and man, in louder notes of praise, should sing for joy that god is good. for all thy gifts, we bless thee, lord; but chiefly for our heavenly food, thy pardoning grace, thy quickening word; these prompt our song that god is good. john h. gurney. triumph. l.m. _the eternity of god._ ( ) ere mountains reared their forms sublime, or heaven and earth in order stood, before the birth of ancient time, from everlasting thou art god. a thousand ages in their flight with thee are as a fleeting day; past, present, future, to thy sight at once their various scenes display. but our brief life's a shadowy dream-- a passing thought, that soon is o'er; that fades with morning's earliest beam, and fills the musing mind no more. to us, o lord, the wisdom give, each passing moment so to spend, that we at length with thee may live where life and bliss shall never end. isaac watts. triumph. l.m. _god seen in nature._ ( ) there is a god--all nature speaks, through earth, and air, and sea, and skies; see, from the clouds his glory breaks, when earliest beams of morning rise. the rising sun, serenely bright, throughout the world's extended frame, inscribes in characters of light his mighty maker's glorious name. ye curious minds, who roam abroad, and trace creation's wonders o'er, confess the footsteps of your god-- bow down before him and adore. anne steele triumph. l.m. _the lord god omnipotent._ ( ) the lord is king; child of the dust! the judge of all the earth is just; holy and true are all his ways; let every creature speak his praise. the lord is king! lift up thy voice, oh, earth! and all ye heavens! rejoice; from world to world the joy shall ring-- the lord omnipotent is king. the lord is king! who then shall dare resist his will, distrust his care, or murmur at his wise decrees, or doubt his royal promises? oh, when his wisdom can mistake, his might decay, his love forsake, then may his children cease to sing-- the lord omnipotent is king. josiah conder. faben. s & s. d. _god is love._ god is love; his mercy brightens all the path in which we rove; bliss he wakes, and woe he lightens: god is wisdom, god is love. chance and change are busy ever; man decays and ages move; but his mercy waneth never; god is wisdom, god is love. e'en the hour the darkest seemeth will his changeless goodness prove; from the gloom his brightness streameth: god is wisdom, god is love. he with earthly cares entwineth hope and comfort from above; everywhere his glory shineth: god is wisdom, god is love. sir john bowring, . mannheim. s & s. _the divine glory._ ( ) lord! thy glory fills the heaven; earth is with its fullness stored; unto thee be glory given, holy, holy, holy lord. heaven is still with glory ringing, earth takes up the angels' cry-- "holy, holy, holy!" singing, "lord of hosts! the lord most high!" ever thus in god's high praises, brethren! let our tongues unite; chief the heart when duty raises god-ward at his mystic rite. richard mant, . azmon. c.m. _creating wisdom._ ( ) eternal wisdom! thee we praise, thee the creation sings; with thy loved name, rocks, hills, and seas, and heaven's high palace rings. thy hand, how wide it spread the sky! how glorious to behold! tinged with a blue of heavenly dye, and starred with sparkling gold. infinite strength and equal skill shine through the worlds abroad; our souls with vast amazement fill, and speak the builder--god. but the sweet beauties of thy grace our softer passions move; pity divine, in jesus' face, we see, adore, and love. isaac watts, . azmon. c.m. _the trinity._ ( ) hail! holy, holy, holy, lord, whom one in three we know; by all thy heavenly host adored, by all thy church below. one undivided trinity with triumph we proclaim; the universe is full of thee, and speaks thy glorious name. thee, holy father, we confess; thee, holy son, adore; and thee, the holy ghost, we bless, and worship evermore. hail! holy, holy, holy lord, our heavenly song shall be supreme, essential one, adored in co-eternal thee! c. wesley, . azmon. c.m. _god is love._ ( ) come, ye that know and fear the lord, and lift your souls above; let every heart and voice accord, to sing that--god is love. this precious truth his word declares, and all his mercies prove; jesus, the gift of gifts, appears, to show that--god is love. behold his patience lengthened out to those who from him rove, and calls effectual reach their hearts, to teach them--god is love. the work begun is carried on by power from heaven above; and every step from first to last, declares that--god is love. george burder, . azmon. c.m. _god's constant goodness._ ( ) jehovah god! thy gracious power on every hand we see; oh, may the blessings of each hour lead all our thoughts to thee. thy power is in the ocean deeps, and reaches to the skies; thine eye of mercy never sleeps, thy goodness never dies. in all the varying scenes of time, on thee our hopes depend; in every age, in every clime, our father and our friend. john thompson, god is love. p.m. _praise for god's love._ come, let us all unite to sing, god is love; let heav'n and earth their praises bring, god is love; let every soul from sin awake, each in his heart sweet music make, and sing with us for jesus' sake, for god is love. ref.--god is love, god is love. come, let us all unite to sing that god is love. oh, tell us to earth's remotest bound, god is love; in christ we have redemption found, god is love; his blood has washed our sins away, his spirit turned our night to day, and now we can rejoice to say that god is love. how happy is our portion here, god is love; his promises our spirits cheer, god is love; he is our sun and shield by day, our help, our hope, our strength, and stay; he will be with us all the way; our god is love. anon. carol. c.m.d. _the angels' song._ ( ) it came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old, from angels bending near the earth, to touch their harps of gold; "peace to the earth, good-will to men, from heaven's all gracious king:" the earth in solemn stillness lay, to hear the angels sing. still through the cloven skies they come, with peaceful wings unfurled; and still celestial music floats o'er all the weary world; above its sad and lowly plains they bend on heavenly wing, and ever o'er its babel sounds, the blessed angels sing. o ye, beneath life's crushing load, whose forms are bending low, who toil along the climbing way, with painful steps and slow;-- look up! for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing; oh, rest beside the weary road, and hear the angels sing! for lo! the days are hastening on, by prophet-bards foretold, when with the ever-circling years comes round the age of gold! when peace shall over all the earth its final splendors fling, and the whole world send back the song which now the angels sing! e.h. sears, . carol. c.m.d. _a light to lighten the gentiles._ ( ) the race that long in darkness pine have seen a glorious light; the people dwell in day who dwelt in death's surrounding night. to hail thy rise, thou better sun, the gathering nations come, with joy, as when the reapers bear the harvest treasures home. to us a child of hope is born; to us a son is given; and him shall all the earth obey, and all the hosts of heaven. his name shall be the prince of peace, forevermore adored, the wonderful, the counselor, the great and mighty lord. john morrison, . christmas. c.m. _the angel's message_ ( ) while shepherds watched their flocks by night, all seated on the ground, the angel of the lord came down, and glory shone around. "fear not," said he,--for mighty dread had seized their troubled mind,-- "glad tidings of great joy i bring to you and all mankind. "to you, in david's town, this day, is born of david's line, the savior, who is christ, the lord; and this shall be the sign: "the heavenly babe you there shall find to human view displayed, all meanly wrapped in swathing bands, and in a manger laid." thus spake the seraph; and forthwith appeared a shining throng of angels, praising god, and thus addressed their joyful song: "all glory be to god on high, and to the earth be peace: good-will henceforth from heaven to men begin and never cease!" nahum tate, . zerah. c.m. _the chorus of angels._ ( ) calm on the listening ear of night come heaven's melodious strains, where wild judea stretches far her silver-mantled plains. celestial choirs, from courts above, shed sacred glories there, and angels, with their sparkling lyres, make music on the air. the answering hills of palestine send back the glad reply, and greet, from all their holy heights, the day-spring from on high. "glory to god!" the sounding skies loud with their anthems ring-- "peace to the earth, good-will to men, from heaven's eternal king." edmund h. sears, . antioch. c.m. _psalm ._ ( ) joy to the world! the lord is come: let earth receive her king; let every heart prepare him room, and heaven and nature sing. joy to the earth! the savior reigns: let men their songs employ; while fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, repeat the sounding joy. no more let sins and sorrows grow, nor thorns infest the ground; he comes to make his blessings flow, far as the curse is found. he rules the world with truth and grace, and makes the nations prove the glories of his righteousness, and wonders of his love. isaac watts, . antioch. c.m. _christ's mission._ ( ) hark the glad sound! the savior comes-- the savior promised long; let every heart prepare a throne, and every voice a song. he comes, the prisoners to release, in satan's bondage held; the gates of brass before him burst, the iron fetters yield. he comes, the broken heart to bind, the bleeding soul to cure; and, with the treasures of his grace, t' enrich the humble poor. our glad hosannas, prince of peace, thy welcome shall proclaim; and heaven's eternal arches ring with thy beloved name. philip doddridge, . antioch. c.m. _jesus is god._ ( ) jesus is god! the glorious bands of holy angels sing songs of adoring praise to him, their maker and their king. he was true god in bethlehem's crib, on calvary's cross, true god; he who, in heaven, eternal reigned, in time, on earth abode. jesus is god! there never was a time when he was not; boundless, eternal, merciful, the word the sire begot. backward our thoughts through ages stretch, onward through endless bliss; for there are two eternities, and both alike are his. jesus is god! oh, could i now, but compass land and sea, to teach and tell this single truth, how happy should i be! oh, had i but an angel's voice, i would proclaim so loud, jesus, the good, the beautiful, is everlasting god. frederick wm. faber, . herald angels. s d. ( ) hark! the herald angels sing, "glory to the new-born king! peace on earth, and mercy mild, god and sinners reconciled." joyful all ye nations, rise; join the triumph of the skies! with the angelic host proclaim, christ is born in bethlehem. see, he lays his glory by, born that man no more may die; born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth. veiled in flesh the godhead see; hail the incarnate deity. pleased as man with men to dwell, jesus, our immanuel. hail the heaven-born prince of peace! hail the sun of righteousness; light and life to all he brings, risen with healing in his wings. let us, then, with angels sing, "glory to the new-born king! peace on earth, and mercy mild, god and sinners reconciled." c. wesley, herald angels. s d. _glory to god._ ( ) angels rejoiced and sweetly sung at our redeemer's birth; mortals! awake: let every tongue proclaim his matchless worth. glory to god, who dwells on high, and sent his only son to take a servant's form, and die, for evils we had done! good-will to men; ye fallen race! arise, and shout for joy; he comes, with rich abounding grace to save and not destroy. lord! send the gracious tidings forth, and fill the world with light, that jew and gentile, through the earth, may know thy saving might. william hurn, . o salvation morning, s & s. _god's salvation morning._ what means this glorious radiance across judea's plain? those white-winged angels singing in such exultant strain? cho.--the king of glory cometh, earth's broken hearts to bind, and god's salvation morning hath dawned for all mankind. what means this wondrous story the holy angels tell? of one who reigned in heaven, and now on earth would dwell? why bend these eastern sages to one of lowly birth? what means this heav'nly message of love and peace on earth? ye wand'rers in earth's darkness, on ocean deep and land, hail! hail! the joyful tidings, the morning is at hand. m. e. servoss. invitation. c.m. _the forgiving one._ ( ) what grace, o lord! and beauty shone around thy steps below! what patient love was seen in all thy life and death of woe! thy foes might hate, despise, revile, thy friends unfaithful prove; unwearied in forgiveness still, thy heart could only love. oh, give us hearts to love like thee; like thee, o lord! to grieve far more for others' sins, than all the wrongs that we receive. one with thyself, may every eye, in us, thy brethren, see that gentleness and grace that springs from union, lord, with thee. edward denny, . invitation. c.m. _the true test._ we may not climb the heavenly steeps to bring the lord christ down; in vain we search the lowest deeps, for him no depths can drown. but warm, sweet, tender, even yet a present help is he; and faith has yet its olivet, and love its galilee. the healing of the seamless dress is by our beds of pain; we touch him in life's throng and press, and we are whole again. through him the first fond prayers are said our lips of childhood frame; the last low whispers of our dead are burdened with his name. o lord and master of us all, whate'er our name or sign, we own thy sway, we hear thy call, we test our lives by thine! j. g. whittier. invitation. c.m. _childhood of jesus._ ( ) in stature grows the heavenly child, with death before his eyes; a lamb unblemished, meek and mild, prepared for sacrifice. the son of god his glory hides with parents mean and poor; and he who made the heavens abides in dwelling-place obscure. those mighty hands that stay the sky no earthly toil refuse; and he who set the stars on high a humble trade pursues. he before whom the angels stand. at whose behest they fly, now yields himself to man's command, and lays his glory by. the father's name we loudly raise, the son we all adore, the holy ghost, one god, we praise, both now and evermore. anon. invitation. c.m. _a man of sorrow._ ( ) a pilgrim through this lonely world, the blessed savior passed; a mourner all his life was he, a dying lamb at last that tender heart which felt for all, for us its life-blood gave; it found on earth no resting-place. save only in the grave. such was our lord; and shall we fear the cross with all its scorn? or love a faithless, evil world that wreathed his brow with thorn? no, facing all its frowns or smiles, like him obedient still, we homeward press, through storm or calm, to zion's blessed hill. h. bonar. olivet. l.m. _the meekness of jesus._ ( ) how beauteous were the marks divine, that in thy meekness used to shine; that lit thy lonely pathway, trod in wondrous love, o son of god! oh, who, like thee, so calm, so bright, thou god of god, thou light of light! oh, who, like thee, did ever go so patient through a world of woe? oh, who, like thee, so humbly bore the scorn, the scoffs of men before? so meek, forgiving, godlike, high, so glorious in humility? e'en death, which sets the prisoner free, was pang, and scoff, and scorn to thee; yet love, through all thy torture glowed, and mercy with thy life-blood flowed. oh, in thy light, be mine to go, illuming all my way of woe! and give me ever on the road to trace thy footsteps, son of god! arthur cleveland coxe, . olivet. l.m. _the teaching of jesus._ ( ) how sweetly flowed the gospel's sound from lips of gentleness and grace, when listening thousands gathered round, and joy and reverence filled the place! from heaven he came, of heaven he spoke; to heaven he led his followers' way; dark clouds of gloomy night he broke, unveiling an immortal day. "come, wanderers, to my father's home; come, all ye weary ones, and rest;" yes, sacred teacher, we will come, obey thee, love thee, and be blest. john bowring, . olivet. l.m. _christ's example._ ( ) my dear redeemer and my lord, i read my duty in thy word; but in thy life the law appears, drawn out in living characters. such was thy truth, and such thy zeal, such deference to thy father's will, such love and meekness so divine, i would transcribe and make them mine. cold mountains and the midnight air witnessed the fervor of thy prayer; the desert thy temptations knew; thy conflict and thy victory too. be thou my pattern, make me bear more of thy gracious image here; then god, the judge, shall own my name among the followers of the lamb. isaac watts, . overberg. l.m. _the miracles of christ._ ( ) behold! the blind their sight receive; behold! the dead awake and live; the dumb speak wonders, and the lame leap, like the hart, and bless his name. thus doth th' eternal spirit own and seal the mission of the son; the father vindicates his cause, while he hangs bleeding on the cross. he dies! the heavens in mourning stood; he rises, the triumphant god! behold the lord ascending high, no more to bleed, no more to die. hence, and forever, from my heart, i bid my doubts and fears depart; and to those hands my soul resign, which bear credentials so divine. isaac watts, . overberg. l.m. _entry into jerusalem._ ( ) ride on! ride on in majesty! hark! all the tribes hosanna cry; o savior meek, pursue thy road with palms and scattered garments strowed. bide on! ride on in majesty! in lowly pomp ride on to die; o christ, thy triumphs now begin o'er captive death and conquered sin. ride on! ride on in majesty! the angel armies of the sky look down with sad and wondering eyes to see the approaching sacrifice. ride on! ride on in majesty! the last and fiercest strife is nigh; the father on his sapphire throne awaits his own anointed son. ride on! ride on in majesty! in lowly pomp, ride on to die; bow thy meek head to mortal pain, then take, o god, thy power and reign. henry hart milman, . overberg. l.m. _the transfiguration._ ( ) oh, wondrous type, oh, vision fair, of glory that the church shall share, which christ upon the mountain shows, where brighter than the sun he glows! from age to age the tale declare, how with the three disciples there, where moses and elias meet, the lord holds converse high and sweet. the law and prophets there have place, two chosen witnesses of grace; the father's voice from out the cloud proclaimed his only son aloud. with shining face and bright array christ deigns to manifest to-day, what glory shall be theirs above who joy in god with perfect love. latin. tr. by j.m. neale, . bavaria. s & s d. _christ our example._ ( ) ever would i fain be reading, in the ancient holy book, of my savior's gentle pleading, truth in ev'ry word and look. how to all the sick and tearful help was ever gladly shown; how he sought the poor and fearful, called them brothers and his own. how no contrite soul e'er sought him, and was bidden to depart; how, with gentle words he taught him, took the death from out his heart. still i read the ancient story,-- and my joy is ever new,-- how for us he left his glory, how he still is kind and true. how the flock he gently leadeth, whom his father gave him here; how his arms he widely spreadeth, to his heart to draw us near. let me kneel, my lord! before thee, let my heart in tears o'erflow, melted by thy love adore thee, blessed in thee, mid joy or woe. ger., louisa hensel, . tr., catherine winkworth, heber. c.m. _the example of christ._ ( ) behold where, in the friend of man, appears each grace divine! the virtues all in jesus meet, with mildest radiance shine. to spread the rays of heavenly light, to give the mourner joy, to preach glad tidings to the poor, was his divine employ. in the last hour of deep distress, before his father's throne, with soul resigned, he bowed, and said, "thy will, not mine, be done!" be christ our pattern and our guide, his image may we bear; oh, may we tread his sacred steps, and his bright glories share. william endfield, . wonderful love of jesus. p.m. _christ's love._ in vain in high and holy lays my soul her grateful voice would raise; for who can sing the worthy praise of the wonderful love of jesus? cho.--wonderful love! wonderful love! wonderful love of jesus! wonderful love! wonderful love! wonderful love of jesus! a joy by day, a peace by night, in storms a calm, in darkness light; in pain a balm, in weakness might, is the wonderful love of jesus. my hope for pardon when i call, my trust for lifting when i fall; in life, in death, my all in all, is the wonderful love of jesus. e.s. lorenz. olive's brow. l.m. _christ in gethsemane._ ( ) 'tis midnight; and on olive's brow the star is dimmed that lately shone; 'tis midnight; in the garden, now, the suffering savior prays alone. 'tis midnight; and, from all removed, the savior wrestles lone with fears; e'en that disciple whom he loved heeds not his master's grief and tears. 'tis midnight; and for others' guilt the man of sorrows weeps in blood; yet he that hath in anguish knelt is not forsaken by his god. 'tis midnight; and from ether plains is borne the song that angels know; unheard by mortals are the strains that sweetly soothe the savior's woe. w.b. tappan, . windham. l.m. _"why hast thou forsaken me?"_ ( ) from calvary a cry was heard-- a bitter and heart-rending cry; my savior! ev'ry mournful word bespoke thy soul's deep agony a horror of great darkness fell on thee, thou spotless holy one! and all the eager hosts of hell conspired to tempt god's only son. the scourge, the thorns, the deep disgrace, these thou could'st bear, nor once repine; but when jehovah veiled his face, unutterable pangs were thine. let the dumb world its silence break; let pealing anthems rend the sky; awake, my sluggish soul, awake! he died that we might never die. john w. cunningham, . zephyr. l.m. _consecration in view of the cross._ ( ) when i survey the wondrous cross, on which the prince of glory died, my richest gain i count but loss, and pour contempt on all my pride. forbid it, lord, that i should boast, save in the death of christ, my god; all the vain things that charm me most, i sacrifice them to his blood. see, from his head, his hands, his feet sorrow and love flow mingled down; did e'er such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown? were all the realms of nature mine, that were a present far too small; love so amazing, so divine. demands my soul, my life, my all. isaac watts, . miriam, s & s. double. ( ) o sacred head, now wounded! with grief and shame weighed down, now scornfully surrounded with thorns, thine only crown; o sacred head, what glory, what bliss, till now, was thine! yet tho' despised and gory, i joy to call thee mine. what thou, my lord! hast suffered was all for sinners' gain; mine, mine was the transgression, but thine the deadly pain; lo! here i fall, my savior! 'tis i deserve thy place; look on me with thy favor; vouchsafe to me thy grace. the joy can ne'er be spoken, above all joys beside, when in thy body broken, i thus with safety hide; my lord of life! desiring thy glory now to see, beside thy cross expiring, i'd breathe my soul to thee. paul gerhardt, . avon. c.m. _before the cross._ ( ) alas! and did my savior bleed? and did my sovereign die? would he devote that sacred head for such a worm as i? was it for crimes that i have done he groaned upon the tree? amazing pity! grace unknown! and love beyond degree! well might the sun in darkness hide, and shut his glories in, when christ, the mighty maker, died for man, the creature's sin! thus might i hide my blushing face while his dear cross appears; dissolve my heart in thankfulness, and melt mine eyes to tears. but drops of grief can ne'er repay the debt of love i owe; here, lord, i give myself away; 'tis all that i can do. isaac watts, . cho.--jesus died for you, and jesus died for me, yes, jesus died for all mankind; bless god, salvation's free. cho.--help me, dear savior, thee to own, and ever faithful be; and when thou sittest on thy throne. o lord, remember me. avon. c.m. _jesus died for me._ great god, when i approach thy throne and all thy glory see; this is my stay, and this alone, that jesus died for me. how can a soul condemned to die, escape the just decree? helpless and full of sin am i, but jesus died for me. burdened with sin's oppressive chain, oh, how can i get free? no peace can all my efforts gain, but jesus died for me. and, lord, when i behold thy face, this must be all my plea; save me by thy almighty grace, for jesus died for me. w.b. bathurst, d. . cowper. c.m. _contrition at the cross._ ( ) o jesus! sweet the tears i shed, while at thy cross i kneel, gaze on thy wounded, fainting head, and all thy sorrows feel. my heart dissolves to see thee bleed, this heart so hard before; i hear thee for the guilty plead, and grief o'erflows the more. 'twas for the sinful thou didst die, and i a sinner stand; what love speaks from thy dying eye, and from each pierced hand! i know this cleansing blood of thine was shed, dear lord, for me; for me, for all--oh, grace divine!-- who look by faith on thee. ray palmer, . cowper. c.m. _resting beneath the cross._ ( ) oppressed with noon-day's scorching heat, to yonder cross i flee; beneath its shelter take my seat: no shade like this for me! beneath that cross clear waters burst, a fountain sparkling free; and there i quench my desert thirst: no spring like this for me! a stranger here, i pitch my tent beneath this spreading tree; here shall my pilgrim life be spent: no home like this for me! for burdened ones a resting-place beside that cross i see; here i cast off my weariness: no rest like this for me! h. bonar, . the cross. c.m. _the precious love._ ( ) the cross, the cross, the blood-stained cross! the hallowed cross i see; reminding me of precious blood that once was shed for me. cho.--oh, the blood, the precious blood, that jesus shed for me; upon the cross, in crimson flood, just now by faith i see. the cross, the cross, that heavy cross, my savior bore for me; it bowed him to the earth with grief on sad mount calvary the wounds, the wounds, those painful wounds; oh, they were made for me! his hands and feet, his holy head, all pierced and torn i see. the death, the death, the awful death! that jesus died for me; i heard his groans, his prayer, "forgive," his bleeding side i see. the love, the love, the matchless love, that bled upon the tree! it melts my heart, it wins my love, it brings me, lord, to thee. j.h. stockton. gorton. s.m. _our ransom paid._ ( ) our sins on christ were laid; he bore the mighty load; our ransom price he fully paid in groans, and tears, and blood. to save a world he dies; sinners, behold the lamb! to him lift up your longing eyes; seek mercy in his name. pardon and peace abound; he will your sins forgive; salvation in his name is found,-- he bids the sinner live. jesus, we look to thee;-- where else can sinners go? thy boundless love shall set us free from wretchedness and woe. j. fawcett, . gorton. s.m. _for me he died._ ( ) are there no wounds for me? hast thou received them all? how can i, lord, the anguish see, beneath which thou didst fall? 'tis over now, i know,-- that suffering life of thine; thy precious blood has ceased to flow, thou wear'st thy crown divine; but yet, i weeping see the thorns which pierced thy head; thou faint'st beneath thy cross for me, for me to death thou'rt led! meekly, with love divine, thy holy head is bent, and streams of blood, for sins of mine, flow where thy side is rent. beneath this sacred flood i bow my sinful soul; dear savior, let thy precious blood wash me and make me whole. mrs. grace webster hinsdale, . owen. s.m. _the savior's tears._ ( ) did christ o'er sinners weep, and shall our cheeks be dry? let floods of penitential grief burst forth from every eye. the son of god in tears-- the wondering angels see! be thou astonished, o my soul! he shed those tears for thee. he wept--that we might weep-- each sin demands a tear; in heaven alone no sin is found, and there's no weeping there. benjamin beddome, . toplady. s, . _rock of ages._ ( ) rock of ages, cleft for me! let me hide myself in thee: let the water and the blood, from thy side a healing flood, be of sin the double cure; save from wrath and make me pure. should my tears forever flow, should my zeal no languor know, all for sin could not atone; thou must save, and thou alone; in my hand no price i bring; simply to thy cross i cling. while i draw this fleeting breath, when mine eyelids close in death, when i rise to worlds unknown, see thee on thy judgment throne-- rock of ages cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee. augustus m. toplady, . cho.--rock of ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee, let me hide myself in thee. salvator mundi. s. d. _the litany._ ( ) by thy birth, and by thy tears; by thy human griefs and fears; by thy conflict in the hour of the subtle tempter's power-- savior, look with pitying eye; savior, help me, or i die. by the tenderness that wept o'er the grave where laz'rus slept; by the bitter tears that flow'd over salem's lost abode-- savior, look with thy pitying eye; savior, help me, or i die. by thy lonely hour of prayer; by the fearful conflict there; by thy cross and dying cries; by thy one great sacrifice,-- savior, look with pitying eye; savior, help me, or i die. by thy triumph o'er the grave; by thy power the lost to save; by thy high, majestic throne; by the empire all thine own,-- savior, look with pitying eye; savior, help me, or i die. sir robert grant, . rathbun. s & s. _glorying in the cross._ ( ) in the cross of christ i glory, towering o'er the wrecks of time; all the light of sacred story gathers round its head sublime. when the woes of life o'ertake me, hopes deceive, and fears annoy, never shall the cross forsake me; lo! it glows with peace and joy. when the sun of bliss is beaming light and love upon my way, from the cross the radiance streaming adds more luster to the day. bane and blessing, pain and pleasure by the cross are sanctified; peace is there, that knows no measure, joys that through all time abide. sir john bowring, . rathbun. s & s. _looking to the cross._ ( ) sweet the moments, rich in blessing, which before the cross i spend, life, and health, and peace possessing, from the sinner's dying friend! here i'll sit, forever viewing mercy's streams in streams of blood: precious drops, my soul bedewing, plead, and claim my peace, with god. truly blessed is this station, low before the cross to lie, while i see divine compassion floating in his languid eye. here it is i find my heaven, while upon the lamb i gaze; love i much?--i've much forgiven,-- i'm a miracle of grace. love and grief my heart dividing, with my tears his feet i'll bathe; constant still in faith abiding,-- life deriving from his death. james allen, . altered by walter shirley, . rathbun. s & s. _the price of salvation._ when i view my savior bleeding, for my sins upon the tree; oh, how wondrous!--how exceeding great his love appears to me! floods of deep distress and anguish. to impede his labors, came; yet they all could not extinguish love's eternal, burning flame. now redemption is completed, full salvation is procured; death and satan are defeated, by the sufferings he endured. now the gracious mediator, risen to the courts of bliss, claims for me, a sinful creature, pardon, righteousness, and peace! sure, such infinite affection lays the highest claims to mine; all my powers, without exception, should in fervent praises join. jesus, fit me for thy service; form me for thyself alone; i am thy most costly purchase,-- take possession of thine own. r. lee. what hast thou done for me? p.m. _return for christ's sufferings._ i gave my life for thee, my precious blood i shed, that thou mightst ransomed be, and quickened from the dead; i gave, i gave my life for thee, what hast thou given for me? my father's house of light, my glory-circled throne, i left for earthly night, for wand'rings sad and lone; i left, i left it all for thee, hast thou left aught for me? i suffered much for thee, more than thy tongue can tell, of bitterest agony, to rescue thee from hell; i've borne, i've borne it all for thee, what hast thou borne for me? and i have brought to thee, down from my home above, salvation full and free, my pardon and my love; i bring, i bring rich gifts to thee, what hast thou brought to me? frances r. havergal. come to the cross. p.m. _blessing at the cross._ come to the cross, where the savior died, look to the lamb that was crucified; turn to the mournful and tragic scene, gaze on the suffering nazarene. cho.--look at the crucified, look and live! look, for eternal life he will give. come to the cross, where the savior died, look to the lamb that was crucified. fall at the feet of the dying one, trust in the name of the father's son; wash in the fountain of jesus' blood, seek for thy cure in the healing flood. fly to the arms of his pard'ning love, cherish the hope of a crown above; taste of the sweetness of sins forgiven, lean on the promise of rest in heaven. rev. j.h. martin. near the cross. p.m. _near the cross._ jesus, keep me near the cross there a precious fountain free to all--a healing stream, flows from calvary's mountain. cho.--in the cross, in the cross, be my glory ever, till my raptured soul shall find rest beyond the river. near the cross, a trembling soul, love and mercy found me; there the bright and morning star shed its beams around me. near the cross, o lamb of god, bring its scenes before me; help me walk from day to day, with its shadows o'er me. near the cross i'll watch and wait, hoping, trusting ever, till i reach the golden strand, just beyond the river. fanny j. crosby. saw ye my savior? p.m. _christ's crucifixion._ 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; here he bowed his head and died; thus my lord was crucified, to atone for a world that was lost. hail, mighty savior! hail, mighty savior! prince, and the author of peace! oh! he burst the bars of death, and, triumphant from the earth, he ascended to mansions of bliss. there interceding, there interceding, pleading that sinners may live; crying, "father, i have died; oh, behold my hands and side! oh, forgive 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." baca. l.m. _pardon through the sufferings of christ._ ( ) deep in our hearts let us record the deeper sorrows of our lord; behold the rising billows roll, to overwhelm his holy soul. yet, gracious god, thy power and love have made the curse a blessing prove; those dreadful sufferings of thy son atoned for sins that we have done. the pangs of our expiring lord the honors of thy law restored; his sorrows made thy justice known. and paid for follies not his own. oh, for his sake our guilt forgive, and let the mourning sinner live; the lord will hear us in his name, nor shall our hope be turned to shame. isaac watts, . baca. l.m. _peace and safety at the cross._ ( ) beneath thy cross i lay me down, and mourn to see thy bloody crown; love drops in blood from every vein; love is the spring of all thy pain. here, jesus, will i ever stay, and spend my longing hours away; think on thy bleeding wounds and pain, and contemplate thy woes again. oh, unmolested, happy rest! where inward fears are all suppressed; here i shall love, and live secure, and patiently my cross endure. wm. williams. baca. l.m. _thanks to jesus for his love._ ( ) o love! who gav'st thy life for me, and won an everlasting good through thy sore anguish on the tree, i ever think upon thy blood! o love! who unto death hast grieved for this cold heart, unworthy thine, whom the cold grave and death received, i thank thee for that grief divine. i give thee thanks that thou didst die to win eternal life for me, to bring salvation from on high: oh, draw me up through love to thee! from the german. author unknown. woodstock. c.m. _christ's triumph over death._ ( ) the morning purples all the sky, the air with praises rings; defeated hell stands sullen by, the world exulting sings. while he, the king all strong to save, rends the dark doors away, and through the breaches of the grave strides forth into the day. death's captive, in his gloomy prison past fettered he has lain; but he has mastered death, is risen, and death wears now the chain. the shining angels cry, "away with grief; no spices bring; not tears, but songs, this joyful day, should greet the rising king!" dr. a. r. thompson, . warwick. c.m. _resurrection and ascension._ ( ) hosanna to the prince of light, who clothed himself in clay, entered the iron gates of death, and tore the bars away. death is no more the king of dread, since our immanuel rose; he took the tyrant's sting away, and spoiled our hellish foes. see how the conqueror mounts aloft and to his father flies, with scars of honor in his flesh, and triumph in his eyes. there our exalted savior reigns, and scatters blessings down; our jesus fills the middle seat of the celestial throne. isaac watts, . nuremburg. s. _the lord is risen._ ( ) christ, the lord, is risen to-day, sons of men and angels say: raise your joys and triumphs high; sing, ye heavens; thou earth, reply. love's redeeming work is done; fought the fight; the battle won: lo! our sun's eclipse is o'er; lo! he sets in blood no more. vain the stone, the watch, the seal-- christ hath burst the gates of hell; death in vain forbids his rise-- christ hath opened paradise. lives again our glorious king: where, o death, is now thy sting? once he died our souls to save: where's thy victory, boasting grave? charles wesley, . pleyel's hymn. s. _resurrection and ascension._ ( ) angel! roll the rock away; death! yield up thy mighty prey; see! he rises from the tomb, glowing with immortal bloom. 'tis the savior; angels! raise fame's eternal trump of praise: let the world's remotest bound hear the joy-inspiring sound. shout! ye saints! in rapturous song, let the strains be sweet and strong; shout the son of god, this morn from his sepulcher new-born. heaven displays her portals wide; glorious hero! through them ride! king of glory! mount the throne-- thy great father's and thine own. thomas scott, . hudson. s.m. _the lord is risen._ ( ) '"the lord is risen indeed!" the grave hath lost its prey; with him shall rise the ransomed seed to reign in endless day. "the lord is risen indeed!" he lives to die no more; he lives his people's cause to plead, whose curse and shame he bore. "the lord is risen indeed!" attending angels hear; up to the courts of heaven with speed, the joyful tidings bear. then take your golden lyres, and strike each cheerful chord; join all the bright celestial choirs, to sing our risen lord. thomas kelly, . mendon. l.m. _exaltation of christ._ ( ) now for a tune of lofty praise to great jehovah's equal son; awake, my voice, in heavenly lays, and tell the wonders he hath done. sing how he left the worlds of light, and those bright robes he wore above; how swift and joyful was his flight, on wings of everlasting love. among a thousand harps and songs, jesus, the god, exalted reigns; his sacred name fills all their tongues and echoes through the heavenly plains. isaac watts, . mendon. l.m. _the lord is risen indeed._ ( ) the morning kindles all the sky; the heavens resound with anthems high; the shining angels, as they speed, proclaim, "the lord is risen indeed." vainly with rocks his tomb was barred while roman guards kept watch and ward; majestic from the spoiled tomb, in pomp of triumph he has come! when the amazed disciples heard, their hearts with speechless joy were stirred; their lord's beloved face to see, eager they haste to galilee. his pierced hands to them he shows; his face with love's own radiance glows; they with the angel's message speed, and shout, "the lord is risen indeed!" latin tr. by mrs. e. charles. harmony grove. l.m. _christ the unsetting sun._ ( ) hail! morning known among the blest, morning of hope, and joy, and love, of heavenly peace, and holy rest, pledge of the endless rest above. blest be the father of our lord, who from the dead hath brought his son; hope to the lost was then restored, and everlasting glory won. mercy looked down with smiling eye when our immanuel left the dead; faith marked his bright ascent on high, and hope with gladness raised her head. e. wardlaw, . baltzell. l.m. _my redeemer lives._ i know that my redeemer lives! what comfort this sweet sentence gives; he lives, he lives, who once was dead; he lives, my ever-living head. he lives, to bless me with his love; he lives, to plead for me above; he lives, my hungry soul to feed; he lives, to bless in time of need; he lives, to grant me rich supply; he lives, to guide me with his eye; he lives, to comfort me when faint; he lives, to hear my soul's complaint; he lives, my kind, wise, heav'nly friend; he lives, and loves me to the end; he lives, and while he lives i'll sing; he lives, my prophet, priest, and king. he lives, all glory to his name! he lives, my savior still the same-- oh, the sweet joy this sentence gives: i know that my redeemer lives. samuel medley, . dort. s & s. _glorious conqueror._ ( ) rise, glorious conqueror, rise, into thy native skies, assume thy right; and where, in many a fold, the clouds are backward rolled; pass thro' these gates of gold, and reign in light. victor o'er death and hell, cherubic legions swell the radiant strain; praises all heav'n inspire; each angel sweeps his lyre, and claps his wings of fire; thou lamb, once slain. enter, incarnate god! no feet but thine have trod the serpent down; blow the full trumpets, blow! wider your portals throw! savior, triumphant, go and take thy crown. lion of judah, hail! and let thy name prevail from age to age; lord of the rolling years, claim for thine own the spheres, for thou hast bought with tears thine heritage. matthew bridges, . harwell. s & s. d. _jesus reigns._ ( ) hark! ten thousand harps and voices sound the note of praise above; jesus reigns, and heaven rejoices; jesus reigns, the god of love; see, he sits on yonder throne; jesus rules the world alone. king of glory! reign forever-- thine an everlasting crown; nothing, from thy love, shall sever those whom thou hast made thine own; happy objects of thy grace, destined to behold thy face. savior! hasten thine appearing; bring, oh, bring the glorious day when, the awful summons hearing, heaven and earth shall pass away;-- then, with golden harps, we'll sing,-- "glory to our king!" thomas kelly, . harwell. s & s. d. _the return to heaven._ ( ) jesus comes, his conflict over,-- comes to claim his great reward; angels round the victor hover, crowding to behold their lord; haste, ye saints! your tribute bring, crown him, everlasting king. yonder throne for him erected, now becomes the victor's seat; lo, the man on earth rejected! angels worship at his feet: haste, ye saints! your tribute bring, crown him, everlasting king. day and night they cry before him,-- "holy, holy, holy, lord!" all the powers of heaven adore him, all obey his sovereign word; haste, ye saints! your tribute bring, crown him, everlasting king. thomas kelly, . harwell. s & s. d. _we live in him._ ( ) see, the conqueror mounts in triumph, see the king in royal state, riding on the clouds, his chariot, to his heavenly palace gate! hark! the choirs of angel voices joyful hallelujahs sing, and the portals high are lifted to receive their heavenly king. who is this that comes in glory, with the trump of jubilee? lord of battles, god of armies, he has gained the victory; he, who on the cross did suffer, he, who from the grave arose, he has vanquished sin and satan, he by death has spoiled his foes. thou hast raised our human nature, on the clouds to god's right hand; there we sit in heavenly places, there with thee in glory stand; jesus reigns, adored by angels; man with god is on the throne; mighty lord! in thine ascension, we by faith behold our own. christopher wordsworth, . coronation. c.m. _crown him lord of all._ ( ) all hail the power of jesus' name, let angels prostrate fall; bring forth the royal diadem, and crown him lord of all. crown him, ye morning stars of light, who fixed this earthly ball; now hail the strength of israel's might, and crown him lord of all. ye chosen seed of israel's race, ye ransomed from the fall, hail him who saves you by his grace, and crown him lord of all. sinners, whose love can ne'er forget the wormwood and the gall; go, spread your trophies at his feet, and crown him lord of all. let every kindred, every tribe on this terrestrial ball, to him all majesty ascribe, and crown him lord of all. o that with yonder sacred throng we at his feet may fall! we'll join the everlasting song, and crown him lord of all. edward perronet, _alt._ . elizabethtown. c.m. _the sympathy of jesus._ ( ) come, let us join in songs of praise to our ascended priest; he entered heaven with all our names engraven on his breast. below he washed our guilt away, by his atoning blood; now he appears before the throne, and pleads our cause with god. clothed with our nature still, he knows the weakness of our frame, and how to shield us from the foes which he himself o'ercame. oh! may we ne'er forget his grace, nor blush to wear his name; still may our hearts hold fast his faith, our mouths his praise proclaim. anon. . elizabethtown. c.m. _perfect through suffering._ ( ) the head, that once was crowned with thorns, is crowned with glory now; a royal diadem adorns the mighty victor's brow. the highest place that heaven affords is his--is his by right; "the king of kings, and lord of lords," and heaven's eternal light. the joy of all who dwell above, the joy of all below, to whom he manifests his love, and grants his name to know. to them the cross, with all its shame, with all its grace, is given; their name--an everlasting name; their joy--the joy of heaven. they suffer with their lord below, they reign with him above; their profit and their joy--to know the mystery of his love. the cross he bore is life and health-- though shame and death to him; his people's hope, his people's wealth, their everlasting theme. thomas kelly, . elizabethtown. c.m. _christ's compassion to the weak._ ( ) with joy we meditate the grace of our high priest above; his heart is made of tenderness, his bowels melt with love. touched with a sympathy within, he knows our feeble frame; he knows what sore temptations mean, for he has felt the same. he, in the days of feeble flesh, poured out his cries and tears; and, in his measure, feels afresh what every member bears. then let our humble faith address his mercy and his power; we shall obtain delivering grace in the distressing hour. isaac watts, . the coming of the kingdom. p.m. _the lord is at hand._ there's a glorious kingdom waiting in the land beyond the sky, where the saints have been gath'ring year by year, and the days are swiftly passing that will bring the kingdom nigh, for the coming of the kingdom draweth near. cho.--oh, the coming of the kingdom draweth near; oh, the coming of the kingdom draweth near! be thou ready, o my soul, for the trumpet soon may roll, and the king in his glory shall appear. 'tis the hope of yonder kingdom, and the glory there prepared, and the looking for the savior to appear, that delivers us from bondage to the world that once ensnared, for the coming of the kingdom draweth near. with the coming of the kingdom we shall see our blessed lord, for the king ere the kingdom must appear; hallelujah to his name, who redeemed us by his blood! oh, the coming of the kingdom draweth near. oh, the world is growing weary, it has waited now so long, and the hearts of men are failing them for fear; let us tell them of the kingdom, let us cheer them with the song, that the coming of the kingdom draweth near. d. w. whittle. lebanon valley. s & s. _christ's coming desired._ ( ) come, thou long-expected jesus! born to set thy people free! from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee. israel's strength and consolation, hope of all the earth thou art; dear desire of ev'ry nation, joy of ev'ry longing heart. born, thy people to deliver; born a child, and yet a king; born to reign in us forever, now thy gracious kingdom bring. by thine own eternal spirit rule in all our hearts alone; by thine all-sufficient merit raise us to thy glorious throne. charles wesley, . the crowning day. s & s. _the day of the lord._ our lord is now rejected, and by the world disowned, by the many still neglected, and by the few enthroned, but soon he'll come in glory, the hour is drawing nigh, for the crowning day is coming by and by. cho.--oh, the crowning day is coming, is coming by and by, when our lord shall come in "power," and "glory" from on high. oh, the glorious sight will gladden, each waiting, watchful eye, in the crowning day that's coming by and by. the heavens shall glow with splendor, but brighter far than they the saints shall shine in glory, as christ shall them array, the beauty of the savior, shall dazzle every eye, in the crowning day that's coming by and by. our pain shall then be over, we'll sin and sigh no more, behind us all of sorrow, and nought but joy before, a joy in our redeemer, as we to him are nigh, in the crowning day that's coming by and by. let all that look for, hasten the coming joyful day, by earnest consecration, to walk the narrow way. by gathering in the lost ones, for whom our lord did die, for the crowning day that's coming by and by. d.w. whittle truro. l.m. _the church longing for christ._ ( ) jesus! thy church, with longing eyes for thine expected coming waits; when will the promised light arise, and glory beam from zion's gates? e'en now when tempests round us fall, and wintry clouds o'ercast the sky, thy words with pleasure we recall, and deem that our redemption's nigh. oh! come and reign o'er ev'ry land; let satan from his throne be hurled, all nations bow to thy command, and grace revive a dying world. teach us, in watchfulness and prayer, to wait for the appointed hour; and fit us by thy grace to share, the triumphs of thy conquering power. william h. bathurst, . middletown. s & s. d. _crown him lord of all._ ( ) crown his head with endless blessing, who, in god the father's name, with compassions never ceasing, comes salvation to proclaim. hail, ye saints, who know his favor, who within his gates are found; hail, ye saints, th' exalted savior, let his courts with praise resound. lo, jehovah, we adore thee; thee our savior! thee our god! from his throne his beams of glory shine through all the world abroad. jesus, thee our savior hailing thee our god in praise we own; highest honors, never failing, rise eternal round thy throne. william goode, . abt. s & s. _much forgiven._ ( ) hail! my ever blessed jesus! only thee i wish to sing. to my soul, thy name is precious, thou, my prophet, priest, and king. oh! what mercy flows from heaven! oh! what joy and happiness! love i much? i've much forgiven; i'm a miracle of grace. once with adam's race in ruin, unconcerned in sin i lay; swift destruction still pursuing, till my savior passed that way witness, all ye host of heaven! my redeemer's tenderness; love i much? i've much forgiven; i'm a miracle of grace. shout, ye bright angelic choir! praise the lamb enthroned above; whilst, astonished, i admire god's free grace, and boundless love. that blest moment i received him, filled my soul with joy and peace: love i much? i've much forgiven; i'm a miracle of grace. john wingrove, . olivet. s & s. _veni, sancte spiritus!_ ( ) come, holy ghost! in love, shed on us, from above, thine own bright ray: divinely good thou art; thy sacred gifts impart, to gladden each sad heart; oh! come to-day! come, tenderest friend, and best, our most delightful guest! with soothing power; rest, which the weary know; shade, 'mid the noontide glow; peace, when deep griefs o'erflow; cheer us, this hour! come, light serene, and still our inmost bosoms fill; dwell in each breast: we know no dawn but thine; send forth thy beams divine, on our dark souls to shine, and make us blest. exalt our low desires; extinguish passion's fires; heal every wound; our stubborn spirits bend; our icy coldness end; our devious steps attend, while heavenward bound. lat. robert ii. of france, . tr., ray palmer, . olivet. s & s. _the spirit of truth._ ( ) thou! whose almighty word chaos and darkness heard, and took their flight, hear us, we humbly pray, and, where the gospel's day sheds not its glorious ray, "let there be light!" thou! who didst come to bring, on thy redeeming wing, healing and sight, health to the sick in mind, sight to the inly blind;-- oh! now to all mankind, "let there be light!" spirit of truth and love, life-giving holy dove! speed forth thy flight: move o'er the water's face, bearing the lamp of grace, and, in earth's darkest place, "let there be light!" john marriott, . balerma. c.m. _breathing after the holy spirit._ ( ) come, holy spirit, heavenly dove! with all thy quickening powers,-- kindle a flame of sacred love, in these cold hearts of ours. look--how we grovel here below, fond of these trifling toys! our souls, how heavily they go, to reach eternal joys. in vain we tune our formal songs, in vain we strive to rise; hosannas languish on our tongues, and our devotion dies. dear lord! and shall we ever live, at this poor dying rate? our love so faint, so cold to thee, and thine to us so great? come, holy spirit, heavenly dove with all thy quickening powers; come, shed abroad a savior's love, and that shall kindle ours. isaac watts, . balerma. c.m. _the source of life and light._ ( ) great spirit! by whose mighty power all creatures live and move, on us thy benediction shower; inspire our souls with love. hail, source of light! arise and shine; darkness and doubt dispel; give peace and joy, for we are thine; in us forever dwell. from death to life our spirits raise; complete redemption bring; new tongues impart to speak the praise of christ, our god and king. thine inward witness bear, unknown to all the world beside; exalting, then, we feel, and own our jesus glorified. thomas howels, . arlington. c.m. _the descent of the spirit._ ( ) spirit divine! attend our prayers, and make this house thy home; descend with all thy gracious powers, oh, come, great spirit! come. come as the light; to us reveal our emptiness and woe; and lead us in those paths of life where all the righteous go. come as the fire; and purge our hearts, like sacrificial flame; let our whole soul an offering be to our redeemer's name. come as the dove; and spread thy wings, the wings of peaceful love; and let thy church on earth become blessed as the church above. come as the wind; with rushing sound and pentecostal grace; that all, of woman born, may see the glory of thy face. andrew reed, . arlington. c.m. _assurance._ why should the children of a king go mourning all their days? great comforter, descend, and bring some tokens of thy grace. dost thou not dwell in all the saints, and seal the heirs of heaven? when wilt thou banish my complaints, and show my sins forgiven? assure my conscience of her part in the redeemer's blood; and bear thy witness with my heart, that i am born of god. thou art the earnest of his love, the pledge of joys to come; and thy soft wings, celestial dove, will safe convey me home. isaac watts, . arlington. c.m. _the spirit's work._ ( ) eternal spirit! by whose power are burst the bands of death, on our cold hearts thy blessings shower, and stir them with thy breath. 'tis thine to point the heavenly way, each rising fear control, and, with a warm, enlivening ray, to melt the icy soul. 'tis thine to cheer us when distressed, to raise us when we fall; to calm the doubting, troubled breast, and aid when sinners call. 'tis thine to bring god's sacred word, and write it on our heart; there its reviving truths record, and there its peace impart. almighty spirit! visit thus our hearts, and guide our ways; pour down thy quickening grace on us, and tune our lips to praise. wm. riley bathurst, . holy spirit, faithful guide. s. d. _the guide._ holy spirit, faithful guide, ever near the christian's side; gently lead us by the hand, pilgrims in a desert land; weary souls fore'er rejoice, while they hear that sweetest voice whisper softly, wanderer come! follow me, i'll guide thee home. ever present, truest friend, ever near thine aid to lend, leave us not to doubt and fear, groping on in darkness drear, when the storms are raging sore, hearts grow faint, and hopes give o'er whisper softly, wanderer come! follow me, i'll guide thee home. when our days of toil shall cease, waiting still for sweet release, nothing left but heaven and prayer, wondering if our names were there; wading deep the dismal flood, pleading nought but jesus' blood, whisper softly, wanderer come! follow me, i'll guide thee home. m.m. wells. pleyel. s. _the holy spirit in conversion._ ( ) gracious spirit, love divine, let thy light within me shine; all my guilty fears remove, fill me full of heaven and love. speak thy pardoning grace to me, set the burdened sinner free; lead me to the lamb of god, wash me in his precious blood. life and peace to me impart! seal salvation on my heart; breathe thyself into my breast, earnest of immortal rest. let me never from thee stray, keep me in the narrow way; fill my soul with joy divine, keep me, lord, forever thine. john stocker, . zephyr. l.m. _the descent of the spirit._ ( ) spirit of pow'r, and truth, and love, who sitt'st enthroned in light above! descend, and bear us on thy wings, far from these low and fleeting things. 'tis thine the wounded soul to heal, 'tis thine to make the hardened feel; thine to give light to blinded eyes, and bid the groveling spirit rise. when faith is weak, and courage fails, when grief or doubt our soul assails, who can, like thee, our spirits cheer? great comforter! be ever near. come, holy spirit! like the fire; with burning zeal our souls inspire; come, like the south-wind, breathing balm, our joys refresh, our passions calm. come, like the sun's enlightening beam; come like the cooling, cleansing stream; with all thy graces present be:-- spirit of god! we wait for thee. william lindsay alexander, . whitefield. s.m. _the spirit's sanctifying influence._ ( ) come, holy spirit, come; let thy bright beams arise, dispel the sorrow from our minds, the darkness from our eyes. revive our drooping faith, our doubts and fears remove, and kindle in our breasts the flame of never dying love. 'tis thine to cleanse the heart, to sanctify the soul, to pour fresh life in ev'ry part, and new create the whole. dwell, spirit, in our hearts; our minds from bondage free. then shall we know, and praise, and love, the father, son, and thee. joseph hart, . fill me now. s & s. _the fullness of the spirit._ hover o'er me, holy spirit; bathe my trembling heart and brow; fill me with thy hallowed presence, come, oh, come and fill me now. cho.--fill me now, fill me now; jesus, come, and fill me now; fill me with thy hallowed presence, come, oh, come, and fill me now. thou canst fill me, gracious spirit, tho' i cannot tell thee how; but i need thee, greatly need thee, come, oh, come, and fill me now. i am weakness, full of weakness; at thy sacred feet i bow; blest, divine, eternal spirit, fill with power, and fill me now. cleanse and comfort, bless and save me; bathe, oh, bathe my heart and brow; thou art comforting and saving, thou art sweetly filling now. e.h. stokes, d.d. fill me now. s & s. _guide and comforter._ holy spirit, fount of blessing, ever watchful, ever kind, thy celestial aid possessing, prisoned souls deliverance find. seal of truth, and bond of union, source of light, and flame of love, symbol of divine communion, in the olive-bearing dove. heavenly guide from paths of error, comforter of minds distressed, when the billows fill with terror; pointing to an ark of rest. promised pledge, eternal spirit, greater than all gifts below, may our hearts thy grace inherit; may our lips thy glories show! thomas j. judkin. fill me now. s & s. _the source of consolation._ holy ghost, dispel our sadness; pierce the clouds of nature's night; come, thou source of joy and gladness, breathe thy life, and spread thy light. from the height which knows no measure, as a gracious shower descend, bringing down the richest treasure man can wish, or god can send. author of the new creation, come with unction and with power; make our hearts thy habitation; on our souls thy graces shower. hear, o hear our supplication, blessed spirit, god of peace! rest upon this congregation, with the fullness of thy grace. paul gerhardt, . tr. by j.c. jacobi, . alt. kentucky. s.m. _guilt and helplessness of man._ ( ) ah! how shall fallen man be just before his god? if he contend in righteousness, we fall beneath his rod. if he our ways should mark with strict inquiring eyes, could we for one of thousand faults a just excuse devise? all-seeing, powerful god, who can with thee contend? or who that tries the unequal strife, shall prosper in the end? ah! how shall guilty man contend with such a god? none, none can meet him and escape, but through the savior's blood. isaac watts, . kentucky. s.m. _an evil heart._ ( ) astonished and distressed, i turn mine eyes within; my heart with loads of guilt oppressed, the source of every sin. what crowds of evil thoughts, what vile affections there! envy and pride, deceit and guile, distrust and slavish fear. almighty king of saints! these tyrant lusts subdue; drive the old serpent from his seat, and all my powers renew. this done,--my cheerful voice shall loud hosannas raise; my heart shall glow with gratitude, my lips be filled with praise. benjamin beddome, . olmutz. s.m. _the reign of sin._ ( ) how heavy is the night that hangs upon our eyes, till christ with his reviving light over our souls arise. our guilty spirits dread to meet the wrath of heaven; but, in his righteousness arrayed, we see our sins forgiven. the powers of hell agree to hold our souls in vain; he sets the sons of bondage free, and breaks the cursed chain. lord, we adore thy ways to bring us near to god, thy sovereign power, thy healing grace, and thine atoning blood. isaac watts, . downs. c.m. _the need of regeneration._ ( ) how helpless guilty nature lies, unconscious of its load! the heart, unchanged, can never rise to happiness and god. can aught, beneath a power divine, the stubborn will subdue? 'tis thine, almighty spirit! thine, to form the heart anew. 'tis thine, the passions to recall, and upward bid them rise; to make the scales of error fall, from reason's darkened eyes. oh! change these wretched hearts of ours, and give them life divine; then shall our passions and our powers, almighty lord! be thine. anne steele, . downs. c.m. _pardon and sanctification in christ._ ( ) how sad our state by nature is! our sin--how deep it stains! and satan binds our captive minds, fast in his slavish chains. but there's a voice of sovereign grace sounds from the sacred word;-- "ho! ye despairing sinners! come and trust a faithful lord." my soul obeys the gracious call and runs to this relief; i would believe thy promise, lord! oh! help my unbelief. to the blest fountain of thy blood, incarnate god! i fly; here let me wash my spotted soul, from crimes of deepest dye. a guilty, weak, and helpless worm, on thy kind arms i fall; be thou my strength and righteousness my jesus, and my all. isaac watts, . downs. c.m. _man's need of the new birth._ ( ) sinners, this solemn truth regard, hear, all ye sons of men; for christ, the savior, hath declared, "ye must be born again." whate'er might be your birth or blood, the sinner's boast is vain; thus saith the glorious son of god, "ye must be born again." that which is born of flesh is flesh, and flesh it will remain: then marvel not that jesus saith, "ye must be born again." spirit of life, thy grace impart, and breathe on sinners slain: bear witness, lord, in ev'ry heart, that we are born again. john fawcett. rockbridge. l.m. _man's need of christ._ ( ) buried in shadows of the night we lie, till christ restores the light; till he descends to heal the blind, and chase the darkness of the mind. our guilty souls are drowned in tears, till his atoning blood appears; then we awake from deep distress, and sing the lord our righteousness. jesus beholds where satan reigns, and binds his slaves in heavy chains; he sets the prisoners free, and breaks the iron bondage from our necks. poor, helpless worms in thee possess grace, wisdom, power, and righteousness thou art our mighty all, and we give our whole selves, o lord, to thee. isaac watts, . melody. c.m. _law and grace._ ( ) vain are the hopes, the sons of men on their own works have built; their hearts by nature all unclean, and all their actions, guilt. let jew and gentile stop their mouths, without a murm'ring word; and the whole race of adam stand guilty before the lord. in vain we ask god's righteous law to justify us now, since to convince, and to condemn, is all the law can do. jesus! how glorious is thy grace! when in thy name we trust, our faith receives a righteousness, that makes the sinner just. isaac watts, . glorious fountain. c.m. _glorious fountain._ ( ) there is a fountain filled with blood, drawn from immanuel's veins, and sinners plunged beneath that flood, lose all their guilty stains. cho.--oh, glorious fountain! here will i stay, and in thee ever wash my sins away. the dying thief rejoiced to see, that fountain in his day, and there may i, though vile as he, wash all my sins away. thou dying lamb, thy precious blood, shall never lose its power, till all the ransomed church of god, are saved to sin no more. e'er since by faith i saw the stream thy flowing wounds supply, redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till i die. and when this feeble, faltering tongue lies silent in the grave, then in a nobler, sweeter song, i'll sing thy power to save. william cowper, . siloam. c.m. _the all-sufficient grace._ ( ) when wounded sore, the stricken soul lies bleeding and unbound: one hand alone, a pierced hand, can heal the sinner's wound. when sorrow swells the laden breast, and tears of anguish flow, one heart alone, a broken heart, can feel the sinner's woe. 'tis jesus' blood that washes white, his hand, that brings relief; his heart, that's touched with all our joys, and feeleth for our grief. lift up thy bleeding hand, o lord! unseal that cleansing tide; we have no shelter from our sin, but in thy wounded side. mrs. cecil f. alexander, . siloam. c.m. _salvation._ salvation! oh, the joyful sound! what pleasure to our ears; a sovereign balm for every wound, a cordial for our fears. salvation! let the echo fly the spacious earth around, while all the armies of the sky conspire to raise the sound. salvation! o thou bleeding lamb! to thee the praise belongs: salvation shall inspire our hearts, and dwell upon our tongues. isaac watts. dunbar. s.m. _all invited._ ( ) how, vast, how full, how free, the mercy of our god! proclaim the blessed news around, and spread it all abroad. cho.--i'm glad salvation's free! i'm glad salvation's free! salvation's free for you and me, i'm glad salvation's free! how vast! "whoever will" may drink at mercy's stream, and know that faith in jesus brings salvation now to him. how full! it doth remove the stain of every sin; and makes the soul as white and pure, as though no sin had been. poor trembling sinner, come! god waits to comfort thee, come, cast thyself upon his love, so vast, so full, so free. vestry h. & t. book. boylston. s.m. _the better sacrifice._ ( ) not all the blood of beasts, on jewish altars slain, could give the guilty conscience peace, or wash away the stain. but christ, the heavenly lamb, takes all our sins away; a sacrifice of nobler name, and richer blood than they. my faith would lay her hand on that dear head of thine, while like a penitent i stand, and there confess my sin. my soul looks back to see the burden thou didst bear; while hanging on the cursed tree, and knows her guilt was there. isaac watts jesus saves. p.m. _atonement for all._ we have heard the joyful sound, jesus saves, jesus saves! spread the tidings all around, jesus saves, jesus saves! bear the news to ev'ry land, climb the steeps and cross the waves; onward! 'tis our lord's command; jesus saves, jesus saves! waft it on the rolling tide, jesus saves, jesus saves! tell to sinners far and wide, jesus saves, jesus saves! sing, ye islands of the sea, echo back, ye ocean caves; earth shall keep her jubilee; jesus saves, jesus saves! sing above the battle strife, jesus saves, jesus saves! by his death and endless life, jesus saves, jesus saves! sing it softly thro' the gloom, when the heart for mercy craves; sing in triumph o'er the tomb, jesus saves, jesus saves! give the winds a mighty voice, jesus saves, jesus saves! let the nations now rejoice, jesus saves, jesus saves! shout salvation full and free, highest hills and deepest caves; this our song of victory, jesus saves, jesus saves! priscilla j. owens. boylston. s.m. _ark of salvation._ like noah's weary dove that soared the earth around, but not a resting place above the cheerless waters found, oh, cease, my wandering soul, on restless wing to roam; all the wide world, to either pole, has not for thee a home. behold the ark of god, behold the open door; hasten to gain that dear abode, and rove, my soul, no more. there safe thou shalt abide, there sweet shall be thy rest, and every longing satisfied, with full salvation blessed. wm. a. muhlenberg. christ receiveth sinful men. s. _a joyful message._ sinners jesus will receive; sound this word of grace to all who the heavenly pathway leave, all who linger, all who fall. ref.--sing it o'er and o'er again; christ receiveth sinful men, make the message clear and plain: christ receiveth sinful men. come, and he will give you rest; trust him for his word is plain; he will take the sinfulest; christ receiveth sinful men. now my heart condemns me not, pure before the law i stand; he who cleansed me from all spot, satisfied its last demand. christ receiveth sinful men, even me with all my sin; purged from every spot and stain, heaven with him i'll enter in. arr. from neumaster, . depth of mercy. s. _the chief of sinners_ ( ) depth of mercy! can there be mercy still reserved for me? can my god his wrath forbear? me, the chief of sinners, spare? cho.--god is love; i know, i feel; jesus weeps and loves me still; jesus weeps and loves me still. i have long withstood his grace, long provoked him to his face; would not hearken to his calls; grieved him by a thousand falls. there for me the savior stands; shows his wounds and spreads his hands; god is love; i know, i feel; jesus weeps, and loves me still. now incline me to repent; let me now my fall lament; now my foul revolt deplore; weep, believe, and sin no more. charles wesley, . lenox. h.m. _the jubilee proclaimed._ ( ) blow ye the trumpet, blow! the gladly solemn sound, let all the nations know, to earth's remotest bound, the year of jubilee is come, return, ye ransomed sinners, home. jesus, our great high priest, hath full atonement made: ye weary spirits! rest, ye mournful souls! be glad; the year of jubilee is come; return, ye ransomed sinners! home. extol the lamb of god,-- the all-atoning lamb; redemption in his blood, throughout the world, proclaim; the year of jubilee is come; return, ye ransomed sinners! home. ye, who have sold for naught your heritage above! shall have it back unbought, the gift of jesus' love; the year of jubilee is come; return, ye ransomed sinners! home. charles wesley, . lenox. h. m. _the sacrifice._ arise, my soul, arise, shake off thy guilty fears; the bleeding sacrifice in my behalf appears; before the throne my surety stands, my name is written on his hands. he ever lives above, for me to intercede; his all-redeeming love, his precious blood to plead; his blood atoned for all our race, and sprinkles now the throne of grace. five bleeding wounds he bears, received on calvary; they pour effectual prayers, they strongly speak for me; forgive him, o forgive, they cry, nor let that ransomed sinner die. the father hears him pray, his dear anointed one; he cannot turn away the presence of his son; his spirit answers to the blood, and tells me i am born of god. my god is reconciled, his pard'ning voice i hear, he owns me for his child, i can no longer fear; with confidence i now draw nigh, and father, abba, father, cry. all to christ i owe. s. _jesus paid it all._ i hear the savior say, thy strength indeed is small; child of weakness, watch and pray, find in me thine all in all. cho.--jesus paid it all, all to him i owe; sin had left a crimson stain, he washed it white as snow. lord, now indeed i find thy power, and thine alone, can change the leper's spots, and melt the heart of stone. for nothing good have i whereby thy grace to claim-- i'll wash my garment white in the blood of calvary's lamb. when from my dying bed my ransomed soul shall rise, then "jesus paid it all" shall rend the vaulted skies. and when before the throne i stand in him complete, i'll lay my trophies down, all down at jesus' feet. mrs. elvina m. hall. all to christ i owe. s. _rev. : ._ ( ) come to the blood-stained tree; the victim bleeding lies; god sets the sinner free, since christ, a ransom, dies. the spirit will apply his blood to cleanse thy stain; oh, burdened soul, draw nigh, for none can come in vain! dark though thy guilt appear, and deep its crimson stain, there's boundless mercy here, oh, do not still disdain. look not within for peace, within, there's nought to cheer; look up, and find release from sin, and self, and fear. what a wonderful savior. p.m. _a complete atonement._ christ has for sin atonement made, what a wonderful savior! we are redeem'd, the price is paid, what a wonderful savior! cho.--what a wonderful savior is jesus, my jesus! what a wonderful savior is jesus, my lord! i praise him for the cleansing blood, what a wonderful savior! that reconciled my soul to god, what a wonderful savior! he cleansed my heart from all its sin, what a wonderful savior! and now he reigns and rules therein, what a wonderful savior! he walks beside me in the way, what a wonderful savior! and keeps me faithful day by day, what a wonderful savior! he gives me overcoming power, what a wonderful savior! and triumph in each conflict hour, what a wonderful savior! to him i've given all my heart, what a wonderful savior! the world shall never share a part, what a wonderful savior! e. a. hoffman. wonderful grace. p.m. _divine grace._ 'tis grace, 'tis grace, 'tis wonderful grace, this great salvation brings; the soul, delivered of its load, in sweetest rapture sings. cho.--'tis grace, 'tis grace, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful grace, 'tis grace, 'tis grace, flowing still freely for me. 'tis grace, 'tis grace, 'tis wonderful grace, which saves the soul from sin, the power of rising evil days, and reigns supreme within. 'tis grace, 'tis grace, 'tis wonderful grace; its streams are full and free; are flowing now for all the race, they even flow to me. rev. w. h. burrell. seeking for me. p.m. _christ's atoning work._ jesus, my savior, to bethlehem came, born in a manger to sorrow and shame; oh, it was wonderful, blest be his name, seeking for me, for me. jesus, my savior, on calvary's tree paid the great debt, and my soul he set free; oh, it was wonderful, how could it be? dying for me, for me. jesus, my savior, the same as of old, while i did wander afar from the fold, gently and long he hath plead with my soul, calling for me, for me. jesus, my savior, shall come from on high; sweet is the promise as weary years fly; oh, i shall see him descending the sky, coming for me, for me. e. e. hasty the stranger at the door. l.m. _at the door._ ( ) behold a stranger at the door, he gently knocks, has knocked before; has waited long, is waiting still; you treat no other friend so ill. cho.--oh, let the dear savior come in, he'll cleanse the heart from sin, oh, keep him no more out at the door, but let the dear savior come in. oh, lovely attitude--he stands with melting heart and loaded hands; oh, matchless kindness--and he shows this matchless kindness to his foes. but will he prove a friend indeed? he will--the very friend you need; the friend of sinners? yes, 'tis he. with garments died on calvary. rise, touched with gratitude divine, turn out his enemy and thine; that soul-destroying monster, sin, and let the heavenly stranger in. admit him, ere his anger burn-- his feet, departed, ne'er return; admit him, or the hour's at hand you'll at his door rejected stand. joseph grigg, . the stranger at the door. l.m. _why not be saved to-night?_ ( ) oh, do not let the word depart, and close thine eyes against the light; poor-sinner, harden not thy heart; thou would'st be saved, why not to-night? to-morrow's sun may never rise to bless thy long-deluded sight; this is the time, oh, then be wise! thou would'st be saved, why not to-night? our god in pity lingers still; and wilt thou thus his love requite? renounce at length thy stubborn will; thou would'st be saved, why not to-night? the world has nothing left to give, it has no new, no pure delight; oh, try the life which christians live; thou would'st be saved, why not to-night? spanish hymn. s. d. _sinners, turn!_ sinners, turn; why will ye die? god, your maker, asks you why? god, who did your being give, made you with himself to live; he the fatal cause demands; asks the work of his own hands,-- why, ye thankless creatures, why will ye cross his love, and die? sinners, turn; why will ye die? god, your savior, asks you why? he, who did your souls retrieve, died himself, that ye might live. will ye let him die in vain? crucify your lord again? why, ye ransomed sinners, why will ye slight his grace and die? sinners, turn; why will ye die? god; the spirit, asks you why? he who all your lives hath strove, urged you to embrace his love. will ye not his grace receive? will ye still refuse to live? o ye dying sinners, why, why will ye forever die? rev. c. wesley, . spanish hymn. s. d. _delay._ ( ) hasten, sinner! to be wise, stay not for the morrow's sun; wisdom, if thou still despise, harder is she to be won. hasten, mercy to implore, stay not for the morrow's sun, lest thy season should be o'er, ere this evening's stage be run. hasten, sinner! to return, stay not for the morrow's sun, lest thy lamp should fail to burn, ere salvation's work is done. hasten, sinner! to be blessed, stay not for the morrow's sun, lest perdition thee arrest, ere the morrow is begun. thomas scott, . spanish hymn. s. d. _the voice of jesus._ ( ) come, says jesus' sacred voice, come, and make my paths your choice; i will guide you to your home; weary pilgrim! hither come. thou, who, houseless, sole, forlorn, long hast borne the proud world's scorn, long hast roamed this barren waste, weary pilgrim! hither haste. ye, who, tossed on beds of pain, seek for ease, but seek in vain! ye, by fiercer anguish torn, in remorse for guilt who mourn!-- hither come, for here is found balm that flows for every wound, peace that ever shall endure, rest eternal, sacred, sure. mrs. anna l. barbauld, . why do you wait? p.m. _immediate decision._ why do you wait, dear brother, oh, why do you tarry so long? your savior is waiting to give you a place in his sanctified throng. cho.--why not? why not? why not come to him now? why not? why not? why not come to him now? what do you hope, dear brother, to gain by a further delay? there's no one to save you but jesus, there's no other way but his way. do you not feel, dear brother, his spirit now striving within? oh, why not accept his salvation, and throw off thy burden of sin? why do you wait, dear brother, the harvest is passing away, your savior is longing to bless you, there's danger and death in delay. george f. root. spanish hymn. s. d. _come and welcome._ ( ) from the cross uplifted high, where the savior deigns to die, what melodious sounds we hear, bursting on the ravished ear!-- "love's redeeming' work is done-- come and welcome, sinner, come! "sprinkled now with blood the throne-- why beneath thy burdens groan? on my pierced body laid, justice owns the ransom paid-- bow the knee, and kiss the son-- come and welcome, sinner, come! "spread for thee, the festal board-- see with richest bounty stored; to thy father's bosom pressed, thou shalt be a child confessed, never from his house to roam; come and welcome, sinner, come! "soon the days of life shall end-- lo, i come--your savior, friend! safe your spirit to convey to the realms of endless day, up to my eternal home come and welcome, sinner, come!" t. haweis, . azmon. c.m. _the gospel feast._ ( ) ye wretched, hungry, starving poor! behold a royal feast, where mercy spreads her bounteous store, for every humble guest. see, jesus stands, with open arms; he calls,--he bids you come; guilt holds you back, and fear alarms; but, see! there yet is room. room, in the savior's bleeding heart; there love and pity meet; nor will he bid the soul depart, that trembles at his feet oh! come, and with his children taste the blessings of his love: while hope attends the sweet repast of nobler joys above. there, with united heart and voice, before th' eternal throne, ten thousand thousand souls rejoice, in ecstasies unknown. and yet ten thousand thousand more are welcome still to come; ye longing souls! the grace adore, approach, there yet is room. anne steele, . azmon. c.m. _gen. : ._ there is a line by us unseen, that crosses every path, the hidden boundary between god's patience and his wrath. to pass that limit is to die, to die as if by stealth; it does not quench the beaming eye, nor pale the glow of health. oh! where is this mysterious bourne by which our path is crossed; beyond which god himself hath sworn that he who goes is lost? how far may we go on to sin? how long will god forbear? where does hope end, and where begin the confines of despair? an answer from the skies is sent,-- "ye that from god depart, while it is called to-day, repent, and harden not your heart." joseph addison alexander. azmon. c.m. _the last resolve._ ( ) come, humble sinner! in whose breast a thousand thoughts revolve: come, with your guilt and fear oppressed, and make this last resolve:-- "i'll go to jesus, though my sin like mountains round me close; i know his courts, i'll enter in whatever may oppose. "prostrate i'll lie before his throne, and there my guilt confess; i'll tell him i'm a wretch undone, without his sovereign grace. "perhaps he will admit my plea; perhaps will hear my prayer; but, if i perish, i will pray, and perish only there. "i can but perish if i go, i am resolved to try; for, if i stay away, i know i must forever die." edmund jones, . sessions. l.m. _my spirit shall not always strive._ ( ) say, sinner, hath a voice within oft whispered to thy secret soul, urged thee to leave the ways of sin, and yield thy heart to god's control? sinner! it was a heavenly voice,-- it was the spirit's gracious call; it bade thee make the better choice, and haste to seek in christ thine all. spurn not the call for life and light; regard in time the warning kind; that call thou may'st not always slight and yet the gate of mercy find. god's spirit will not always strive with hardened self-destroying men; ye, who persist his love to grieve, may never hear his voice again. sinner! perhaps this very day thy last accepted time may be: oh! should'st thou grieve him now away then hope may never beam on thee. mrs. ann b. hyde. just as thou art. l.m. _just as thou art._ ( ) just as thou art--without one trace of love, or joy, or inward grace,-- or meekness for the heav'nly place,-- oh, guilty sinner! come,--now come. thy sins i bore on calvary's tree; the stripes, thy due, were laid on me, that peace and pardon might be free;-- oh, wretched sinner! come,--now come. burdened with guilt, would'st thou be blessed? trust not the world; it gives no rest; i bring relief to hearts oppressed;-- oh, weary sinner! come,--now come. come, hither bring thy boding fears, thy aching heart, thy bursting tears; 'tis mercy's voice salutes thine ears;-- oh, trembling sinner! come,--now come. "the spirit and the bride say, come!" rejoicing saints re-echo, "come!" who faints, who thirsts, who will, may come; thy savior bids thee come,--now come. russell s. cook, , _a._ jesus is calling. p.m. _the call of christ._ jesus is tenderly calling thee home-- calling to-day, calling to-day; why from the sunshine of love wilt thou roam farther and farther away? ref.--calling to-day, calling to-day. jesus is calling, is tenderly calling to-day. jesus is calling the weary to rest-- calling to-day, calling to-day; bring him thy burden and thou shalt be blest; he will not turn thee away. jesus is waiting, oh, come to him now-- waiting to-day, waiting to-day; come with thy sins, at his feet lowly bow; come, and no longer delay. jesus is pleading, oh, list to his voice-- hear him to-day, hear him to-day; they who believe on his name shall rejoice; quickly arise and away. fanny j. crosby. goshen. s. _all things ready._ ( ) oh, turn ye, oh, turn ye, for why will ye die, when god, in great mercy, is coming so nigh? now jesus invites you, the spirit says, "come!" and angels are waiting to welcome you home. how vain the delusion, that while you delay, your hearts may grow better by staying away! come wretched, come starving, come just as you be, while streams of salvation are flowing so free. and now christ is ready your souls to receive; oh, how can you question, if you will believe? if sin is your burden, why will you not come? 'tis you he bids welcome; he bids you come home. why will you be starving, and feeding on air? there's mercy in jesus, enough and to spare; if still you are doubting, make trial and see. and prove that his mercy is boundless and free. josiah hopkins, . goshen. s. _danger of delay._ ( ) delay not, delay not; oh, sinner! draw near; the waters of life are now flowing for thee; no price is demanded, the savior is here, redemption is purchased, salvation is free. delay not, delay not; why longer abuse the love and compassion of jesus, thy god? a fountain is opened,--how canst thou refuse to wash, and be cleansed in his pardoning blood? delay not, delay not, oh, sinner! to come, for mercy still lingers and calls thee to-day; her voice is not heard in the vale of the tomb,-- her message, unheeded, will soon pass away. delay not, delay not; the spirit of grace, long grieved and resisted, may take its sad flight; and leave thee in darkness to finish thy race,-- to sink in the vale of eternity's night. thomas hastings, . he is calling. s & s. _divine sympathy._ ( ) there's a wideness in god's mercy, like the wideness of the sea; there's a kindness in his justice, which is more than liberty. ref.--he is calling, "come to me;" lord, i'll gladly haste to thee. there's no place where earthly sorrows are more felt than up in heaven; there's no place where earthly failings have such kindly judgment given. for the love of god is broader than the measure of man's mind, and the heart of the eternal is most wonderfully kind. but we make his love too narrow, by false limits of our own; and we magnify his strictness with a zeal he will not own. pining souls, come nearer jesus; come, but come not doubting thus; come with faith that trusts more freely his great tenderness for us. if our love were but more simple, we should take him at his word; and our lives would be all sunshine in the sweetness of our lord. frederick faber, _ab._ come to jesus. ( ) come to jesus, come to jesus, come to jesus just now, just now come to jesus, come to jesus just now. he will save you. oh, believe him. he is able. he is willing. he'll receive you. call upon him. he will hear you. look unto him. he'll forgive you. flee to jesus. he will cleanse you. he will clothe you. jesus loves you. don't reject him. only trust him. hallelujah. amen. who'll be the next? p.m. _delay deplored._ who'll be the next to follow jesus? who'll be the next the cross to bear? someone is ready, someone is waiting; who'll be the next a crown to wear? ref.--who'll be the next? who'll be the next? who'll be the next to follow jesus? who'll be the next to follow jesus now? follow jesus now? who'll be the next to follow jesus-- follow his weary, bleeding feet? who'll be the next to lay ev'ry burden down at the father's mercy-seat? who'll be the next to follow jesus? who'll be the next to praise his name? who'll swell the chorus of free redemption-- sing, hallelujah! praise the lamb? who'll be the next to follow jesus, down thro' the jordan's rolling tide? who'll be the next to join with the ransomed, singing upon the other side? annie s. hawks. let him in. p.m. _the stranger at the door._ there's a stranger at the door, let him in, he has been there oft before, let him in; let him in ere he is gone, let him in, the holy one, jesus christ, the father's son, let him in. open now to him your heart, let him in, if you wait he will depart, let him in; let him in, he is your friend, he your soul will sure defend, he will keep you to the end, let him in. hear you now his loving voice? let him in, now, oh, now make him your choice let him in; he is standing at the door, joy to you he will restore, and his name you will adore, let him in. now admit the heavenly guest, let him in, he will make for you a feast, let him in; he will speak your sins forgiv'n, and when earth ties all are riven, he will take you home to heaven, let him in. rev. j. b. atchison. almost persuaded. p.m. _"almost," but lost._ ( ) "almost persuaded" now to believe; "almost persuaded" christ to receive; seems now some soul to say, "go, spirit, go thy way; some more convenient day on thee i'll call." "almost persuaded," come, come to-day; "almost persuaded," turn not away, jesus invites you here, angels are ling'ring near, pray'rs rise from hearts so dear; oh, wand'rer, come! "almost persuaded," harvest is past! "almost persuaded," doom comes at last! "almost" cannot avail; "almost" is but to fail! sad, sad that bitter wail,-- "almost," but lost! p. p. bliss. to-day. s & s. ( ) to-day the savior calls! ye wand'rers, come, oh, ye benighted souls, why longer roam? to-day the savior calls! oh, hear him now; within these sacred walls to jesus bow. today the savior calls! for refuge fly! the storm of justice falls, and death is nigh. the spirit calls to-day; yield to his power; oh, grieve him not away, 'tis mercy's hour. greenville. s, s, & s. _invitation hymn._ ( ) come, ye sinners, poor and needy, weak and wounded, sick and sore; jesus ready stands to save you, full of pity, love, and pow'r; he is able, he is willing, doubt no more. now, ye needy, come and welcome; god's free bounty glorify; true belief and true repentance, every grace that brings you nigh, without money, come to jesus christ and buy. let not conscience make you linger, nor of fitness fondly dream; all the fitness he requireth is to feel your need of him; this he gives you; 'tis the spirit's glimmering beam. come, ye weary, heavy laden, bruised and mangled by the fall; if you tarry till you're better, you will never come at all; not the righteous,-- sinners jesus came to call. joseph hart, . cho.--turn to the lord and seek salvation, sound the praise of his dear name: glory, honor, and salvation, christ, the lord, is come to reign. cho.--i will arise and go to jesus, he will embrace me in his arms, in the arms of my dear savior, oh, there are ten thousand charms! greenville. s, s, & s. _the voice of mercy._ ( ) listen, sinner! mercy hails you; with her sweetest voice she calls; bids you hasten to the savior, ere the hand of justice falls: listen, sinner! 'tis the voice of mercy calls. see! the storm of vengeance gathering o'er the path you dare to tread! hark! the awful thunders rolling loud and louder o'er your head! flee, oh, sinner! lest the lightnings strike you dead. haste, ah! hasten to the savior; sue his mercy while you may; soon the day of grace is over; soon your life will pass away, hasten sinner! you must perish, if you stay. andrew reed, . rhinehart. s & s. _penitents encouraged._ ( ) dropping souls! no longer mourn, jesus still is precious; if to him you now return, heav'n will be propitious; jesus now is passing by, calling wand'rers near him; drooping souls! you need not die, go to him and hear him! he has pardons full and free, drooping souls to gladden; still he cries--"come unto me, weary, heavy laden!" tho' your sins, like mountains high, rise, and reach to heaven, soon as you on him rely, all shall be forgiven. precious is the savior's name, all his saints adore him; he to save the dying came;-- prostrate bow before him! wand'ring sinner! now return; contrite souls! believe him! jesus calls you; cease to mourn; worship him; receive him. thomas hastings. . are you ready? s & s. _judgment day._ soon the evening shadows falling close the day of mortal life; soon the hand of death appalling draws thee from its weary strife. cho.--are you ready? are you ready? 'tis the spirit calling, why delay? are you ready? are you ready? do not linger longer, come to-day. soon the awful trumpet sounding calls thee to the judgment throne; now prepare, for love abounding yet has left thee not alone. oh, how fatal 'tis to linger! art thou ready--ready now? ready should death's icy finger lay its chill upon thy brow? priceless love and free salvation freely still are offered thee; yield no longer to temptation, but from sin and sorrow flee. j. w. slaughenhaupt. windham. l.m. _the broad road._ broad is the road that leads to death, and thousands walk together there; but wisdom shows a narrow path, with here and there a traveler. "deny thyself and take thy cross," is the redeemer's great command; nature must count her gold but dross, if she would gain this heavenly land. the fearful soul that tires and faints, and walks the ways of god no more, is but esteemed almost a saint. and makes his own destruction sure. lord, let not all my hopes be vain; create my heart entirely new-- which hypocrites could ne'er attain, which false apostates never knew. isaac watts. gorton. s.m. _the second death._ ( ) oh, where shall rest be found-- rest for the weary soul? 'twere vain the ocean depths to sound, or pierce to either pole. the world can never give the bliss for which we sigh; 'tis not the whole of life to live, nor all of death to die. beyond this vale of tears there is a life above, unmeasured by the flight of years; and all that life is love. there is a death, whose pang outlasts the fleeting breath; oh, what eternal horrors hang around the second death! lord god of truth and grace, teach us that death to shun, lest we be banished from thy face, and evermore undone. james montgomery, . no room in heaven. p.m. _shut out._ how sad would it be, if when thou didst call, all hopeless and unforgiven, the angel that stands at the beautiful gate, should answer, no room in heaven. ref.--sad, sad, sad would it be! no room in heaven for thee! no room, no room, no room in heaven for thee! how sad it would be, the harvest all past, the bright summer days all over; to know that the reapers had gathered the grain, and left thee alone forever. oh, haste thee, and fly, while mercy is near, remember the love that he gave you; the love that has sought thee is seeking thee still, and jesus now waits to save you. w. o. cushing. when the king comes in. p.m. _the final test._ called to the feast by the king are we, sitting, perhaps, where his people be, how will it fare, friend, with thee and me, when the king comes in? ref.--when the king comes in, brother, when the king comes in! how will it fare with thee and me when the king comes in? crowns on the head where the thorns have been, glorified he who once died for men, splendid the vision before us then, when the king comes in. like lightning's flash will that instant show things hidden long from both friend and foe, just what we are will each neighbor know, when the king comes in. joyful his eye shall on each one rest who is in white wedding garments dressed, ah, well for us if we stand the test, when the king comes in. endless the separation then, bitter the cry of deluded men, awful that moment beyond all ken, when the king comes in. lord, grant us all, we implore thee, grace, so to await thee each in his place, that we may fear not to see thy face when thou comest in. j.e. landor. when the door is shut. p.m. _the present invitation._ the door of salvation is open wide, and jesus invites you to come; while mercy and pardon await within, oh, enter while yet there is room. ref.--when the door once is shut, to entreat will be vain; 'twill never, no, never be opened again. the feast of the gospel awaits its guests, the day and the hour are at hand; ye hungry and perishing souls, draw near; oh, why do you doubtingly stand? dear friends, if you ever should stand without, and plead for admittance in vain, you'd think of the savior's entreating voice, and long for this moment again. m. e. servoss. hebron. l.m. _my yoke is easy, my burden light._ ( ) oh, that my load of sin were gone; oh, that i could at last submit at jesus' feet to lay it down-- to lay my soul at jesus' feet. rest for my soul i long to find; savior of all, if mine thou art, give me the meek and lowly mind, and stamp thine image on my heart. break off the yoke of inbred sin, and fully set my spirit free; i cannot rest till pure within-- till i am wholly lost in thee. fain would i learn of thee, my god; thy light and easy burden prove; the cross all stained with hallowed blood, the labor of thy dying love. i would, but thou must give the power; my heart from every sin release; bring near, bring near the joyful hour, and fill me with thy perfect peace. charles wesley, . hebron. l.m. _pardon penitently implored._ ( ) show pity, lord, o lord, forgive; let a repenting rebel live; are not thy mercies large and free? may not a sinner trust in thee? my crimes, though great, cannot surpass the power and glory of thy grace; great god, thy nature hath no bound, so let thy pard'ning love be found. oh, wash my soul from every sin, and make my guilty conscience clean; here, on my heart, the burden lies and past offenses pain mine eyes. my lips with shame my sins confess, against thy law, against thy grace; lord, should thy judgment grow severe, i am condemned, but thou art clear. yet save a trembling sinner, lord, whose hope, still hovering round thy word, would light on some sweet promise there, some sure support against despair. charles wesley, . hebron. l.m. _deprecating the withdrawal of the spirit._ ( ) stay, thou insulted spirit, stay, though i have done thee such despite, nor cast the sinner quite away, nor take thine everlasting flight. though i have steeled my stubborn heart, and still shook off my guilty fears; and vexed and urged, thee to depart, for many long rebellious years. though i have most unfaithful been, of all whoe'er thy grace received! ten thousand times thy goodness seen; ten thousand times thy goodness grieved; this only woe i deprecate; this only plague i pray remove; nor leave me in my lost estate; nor curse me with this want of love. now, lord, my weary soul release, upraise me with thy gracious hand, and guide into thy perfect peace, and bring me to the promised land. charles wesley, . woodworth. l.m. _coming in humility._ ( ) just as i am, without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me, and that thou bidd'st me come to thee, o lamb of god, i come! i come! just as i am, and waiting not to rid my soul of one dark blot, to thee whose blood can cleanse each spot, o lamb of god, i come! i come! just as i am, tho' tossed about with many a conflict, many a doubt, fightings within, and fears without, o lamb of god, i come! i come! just as i am--poor, wretched, blind; sight, riches, healing of the mind, yea, all i need, in thee to find, o lamb of god, i come! i come! just as i am--thou wilt receive, wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve; because thy promise i believe, o lamb of god, i come! i come! just as i am--thy love unknown hath broken every barrier down; now to be thine, yea, thine alone, o lamb of god, i come! i come! charlotte elliott, . badea. s.m. _decision._ ( ) and can i yet delay my little all to give? to tear my soul from earth away, for jesus to receive? nay, but i yield, i yield, i can hold out no more: i sink, by dying love compelled, and own thee conqueror. tho' late, i all forsake, my friends, my all resign; gracious redeemer, take, oh, take, and seal me ever thine. come and possess me whole, nor hence again remove; settle and fix my wav'ring soul with all thy weight of love. charles wesley, . i am listening. s & s. _the call answered._ do you hear the savior calling, by the wooings of his voice? do you hear the accents falling? will you make the precious choice? ref.--i am list'ning; oh, i'm list'ning just to hear the accents fall! i am list'ning; oh, i'm list'ning to the savior's gentle call! by his spirit he is wooing, softly drawing us to him, thro' the day and night pursuing, with his gentle voice to win. by the word of truth he's speaking to the wand'ring, erring ones; list! the voice the stillness breaking! hear the sweet and solemn tones! in his providential dealings, even in his stern decrees, in the loudest thunders pealing, or the murm'ring of the breeze. w. s. marshall. i do believe. c.m. _unwearied earnestness._ ( ) father, i stretch my hand to thee; no other help i know: if thou withdraw thyself from me, ah! whither shall i go? cho.--i do believe, i now believe that jesus died for me; and thro' his blood, his precious blood, i shall from sin be free. what did thine only son endure. before i drew my breath? what pain, what labor, to secure my soul from endless death! o jesus, could i this believe, i now should feel thy power; and all my wants thou would'st relieve, in this accepted hour. author of faith! to thee i lift my weary, longing eyes; oh, let me now receive that gift-- my soul without it dies. surely thou canst not let me die; oh, speak, and i shall live, and here i will unwearied lie, till thou thy spirit give. how would my fainting soul rejoice, could i but see thy face; now let me hear thy quick'ning voice, and taste thy pard'ning grace. charles wesley i do believe. c.m. _the friend of sinners._ ( ) jesus! thou art the sinner's friend; as such i look to thee; now, in the fullness of thy love, o lord! remember me. remember thy pure word of grace,-- remember calvary; remember all thy dying groans, and, then, remember me. thou wondrous advocate with god! i yield myself to thee; while thou art sitting on thy throne, dear lord! remember me. lord! i am guilty--i am vile, but thy salvation's free; then, in thine all abounding grace, dear lord! remember me. richard burnham, , _a._ brown. c.m. _approaching the mercy-seat._ ( ) approach, my soul, the mercy-seat, where jesus answers prayer; there humbly fall before his feet, for none can perish there. thy promise is my only plea, with this i venture nigh; thou call'st the burdened souls to thee, and such, o lord, am i. bowed down beneath a load of sin, by satan sorely pressed; by wars without and fears within, i come to thee for rest. oh, wondrous love! to bleed and die, to bear the cross and shame; that guilty sinners, such as i, might plead thy gracious name. john newton, . take me as i am. p.m. _no hope in self._ jesus, my lord, to thee i cry; unless thou help me, i must die; oh, bring thy free salvation nigh and take me as i am. ref.--take me as i am, take me as i am; oh, bring thy free salvation nigh, and take me as i am. helpless i am, and full of guilt, but yet for me thy blood was spilt, and thou canst make me as thou wilt, but take me as i am. i thirst, i long to know thy love, thy full salvation i would prove; but since to thee i cannot move oh, take me as i am. if thou hast work for me to do, inspire my will, my heart renew, and work both in and by me, too, but take me as i am. and when at last the work is done. the battle o'er, the victory won, still, still my cry shall be alone, oh, take me as i am. eliza h. hamilton. fix your eyes upon jesus. p.m. _the source of peace._ would you lose your load of sin? fix your eyes upon jesus; would you know god's peace within? fix your eyes upon jesus. cho.--jesus who on the cross did die, jesus who lives and reigns on high, he alone can justify; fix your eyes upon jesus. would you calmly walk the wave? fix your eyes upon jesus; would you know his pow'r to save? fix your eyes upon jesus. would you have your cares grow light? fix your eyes upon jesus; would you songs have in the night? fix your eyes upon jesus. grieving, would you comfort know? fix your eyes upon jesus; humble be when blessings flow? fix your eyes upon jesus. would you strength in weakness have? fix your eyes upon jesus; see a light beyond the grave? fix your eyes upon jesus. d. w. whittle. at the cross. c.m. _rom. : ._ ( ) i stand; but not as once i did, beneath my load of guilt; the blessed jesus bore it all-- for me his blood was spilt. i stand; but not on calvary's mount, with arms around the cross; i have been there, and left behind earth's pleasures, joys, and dross. i stand e'en now where he appears, in union with my lord; in him i'm saved, oh, wondrous thought. i read it in his word. oh, bless the lord! in him alone-- in him we are complete; we live by faith! but soon in sight our coming christ we'll greet. unknown. at the cross. c.m. _salvation at the cross._ ( ) oh, wondrous, deep, unbounded love, my savior, can it be that thou hast borne the crown of thorns and suffered death for me? cho.--at the cross, at the cross, where i first saw the light and, the burden of my heart rolled away-- it was there by faith i received my sight, and now i am happy all the day. i kneel, repenting, at thy feet, i give myself to thee; i plead thy merits, thine alone, for thou hast died for me. oh, let me plunge beneath the tide, for sinners flowing free, then rise, renewed by grace divine, and shout salvation free. and when i reach thy place above, my sweetest notes will be, redemption through a savior's name, who bled and died for me. fanny crosby, . saved by faith. p.m. _justified by faith._ i have found redemption in the savior's blood, i am saved by faith in his blood, in his blood; i am sweetly trusting in the word of god i am saved by faith in his blood. cho.--i am saved, yes, sweetly saved, i am saved by faith in the blood he shed for me, i am saved, yes, sweetly saved, i am saved by faith in his blood. oh, how sweet the story of his wondrous grace, i am saved by faith in his blood, in his blood; i will trust in jesus while i run my race, i am saved by faith in his blood. i will sing of jesus while the days go by, i am saved by faith in his blood, in his blood; i will trust his promise, on his strength rely, i am saved by faith in his blood. i will keep on singing as i march along, i am saved by faith in his blood, in his blood; in my home in glory this shall be my song, i am saved by faith in his blood. only trust him. c.m. _peace in believing._ come, ev'ry soul by sin oppressed, there's mercy with the lord; and he will surely give you rest by trusting in his word. cho.--only trust him, only trust him, only trust him now; he will save you, he will save you, he will save you now. for jesus shed his precious blood rich blessings to bestow; plunge now into the crimson flood that washes white as snow. yes, jesus is the truth, the way, that leads you into rest; believe in him without delay, and you are fully blest. come, then, and join this holy band, and on to glory go, to dwell in that celestial land, where joys immortal flow. j. h. stockton. is my name written there? p.m. _the book of life._ lord, i care not for riches, neither silver nor gold; i would make sure of heaven, i would enter the fold. in the book of thy kingdom, with its pages so fair, tell me, jesus, my savior, is my name written there? cho.--is my name written there? on the page white and fair? in the book of thy kingdom, is my name written there? lord, my sins, they are many, like the sands of the sea, but thy blood, oh, my savior, is sufficient for me; for thy promise is written, in bright letters that glow, "tho' your sins be as scarlet, i will make them like snow." oh, that beautiful city, with its mansions of light, with its glorified beings, in pure garments of white; where no evil thing cometh to despoil what is fair; where the angels are watching, yes, my name's written there. mrs. mary a. kidder. convert. p.m. _joy in christ._ oh, how happy are they who their savior obey, and have laid up their treasures above; tongue cannot express the sweet comfort and peace of a soul in its earliest love. that sweet comfort was mine, when the favor divine i first found in the blood of the lamb; when my heart it believed, what a joy i received, what a heaven in jesus' name. 'twas a heaven below my redeemer to know, and the angels could do nothing more than to fall at his feet, and the story repeat, and the lover of sinners adore. jesus, all the day long, was my joy and my song; o that all his salvation might see! he hath loved me, i cried, he hath suffered and died to redeem such a rebel as me. on the wings of his love i was carried above all sin and temptation and pain, and i could not believe that i ever should grieve-- that i ever should suffer again. i then rode on the sky, freely justified i, nor did envy elijah his seat; my soul mounted higher, in a chariot of tire, and the moon it was under my feet. o the rapturous height of that holy delight which i felt in the life-giving blood, of my savior possessed, i was perfectly blest, as if filled with the fullness of god. never more will i stray from my savior away, but i'll follow the lamb till i die; i will take up my cross, and count all things but loss, till i meet with my lord in the sky. charles wesley. hallowed spot. p.m. _the place of conversion._ ( ) there is a spot to me more dear than native vale or mountain; a spot to which affection's tear springs grateful from its fountain; 'tis not where kindred souls abound-- tho' that is almost heaven-- but where i first my savior found, and felt my sins forgiven. hard was my toil to reach the shore, long tossed upon the ocean, above me was the thunder's roar, beneath, the wave's commotion. darkly the pall of night was thrown around me, faint with terror; in that dark hour how did my groans ascend for years of error. sinking and panting as for breath, i knew not help was nigh me, and cried, o save me, lord, from death-- immortal jesus, hear me. then, quick as thought, i felt him mine-- my savior stood before me; i saw his brightness round me shine, and shouted glory, glory. o sacred hour, o hallowed spot! where love divine first found me; wherever falls my distant lot, my heart shall linger round thee: and as from earth i rise, to soar up to my home in heaven, down will i cast my eyes once more, where i was first forgiven. william hunter, d. d. boylston. s.m. _the need of conversion_ how solemn are the words, and yet to faith how plain, which jesus uttered while on earth-- "ye must be born again!" "ye must be born again!" for so hath god decreed; no reformation will suffice-- 'tis life poor sinners need. "ye must be born again!" and life in christ must have; in vain the soul may elsewhere go-- 'tis he alone can save. "ye must be born again!" or never enter heaven; 'tis only blood-washed ones are there-- the ransomed and forgiven. anon. it is well with my soul. p.m. _the soul redeemed._ when peace, like a river, attendeth my way, when sorrows, like sea-billows, roll; whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul. cho.--it is well with my soul, it is well, it is well with my soul. tho' satan should buffet, tho' trials should come, let this blest assurance control, that christ hath regarded my helpless estate, and hath shed his own blood for my soul. my sin--oh, the bliss of this glorious tho't-- my sin--not in part but the whole, is nailed to his cross and i bear it no more, praise the lord, praise the lord, oh, my soul! and, lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight, the clouds be rolled back as a scroll, the trump shall resound, and the lord shall descend, "even so"--it is well with my soul. h.g. spafford. hallelujah! 'tis done. s. _an accomplished work._ 'tis the promise of god, full salvation to give unto him who on jesus, his son, will believe cho.--hallelujah! 'tis done, i believe on the son; i am saved by the blood of the crucified one. tho' the pathway be lonely, and dangerous, too, surely jesus is able to carry me through. many loved ones have i in yon heavenly throng; they are safe now in glory, and this is their song: little children i see standing close by their king, and he smiles as their song of salvation they sing. there are prophets and kings in that throng i behold, and they sing as they march thro' the streets of pure gold, there's a part in that chorus for you and for me, and the theme of our praises forever will be. bartimeus. s & s. _from darkness to light._ ( ) lord! i know thy grace is nigh me, thee thyself i cannot see; jesus, master! pass not by me; son of david! pity me. while i sit in weary blindness, longing for the blessed light, many taste thy loving kindness; "lord! i would receive my sight." i would see thee and adore thee, and thy word the power can give; hear the sightless soul implore thee; let me see thy face and live. ah! what touch is this that thrills me? what this burst of strange delight? lo! the rapturous vision fills me! this is jesus! this is sight! room, ye saints that throng behind him! let me follow in the way; i will teach the blind to find him who can turn their night to day. h.d. ganse. bartimeus. s & s. _the blind man healed._ ( ) "mercy, oh, thou son of david!" thus blind bartimeus prayed; "others by thy word are saved, now to me afford thine aid." many for his crying chid him,-- but he called the louder still; till the gracious savior bade him,-- "come, and ask me what you will." 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 in the way. oh! methinks i hear him praising, publishing to all around, "friends! is not my case amazing? what a savior i have found! "oh! that all the blind but knew him, and would be advised by me! surely would they hasten to him, he would cause them all to see." john newton, . sitting at the feet of jesus. p.m. oh, the peace that fills my soul, sitting at the feet of jesus; cleansed from sin, made free and whole, sitting at the feet of jesus. cho.--this is my abiding place, clothed with his abounding grace, looking upward to his face, sitting at the feet of jesus. christ is mine in storm and calm, sitting at the feet of jesus; all my wounds are filled with balm, sitting at the feet of jesus. here i rest from toil and strife, sitting at the feet of jesus; safe beneath the tree of life, sitting at the feet of jesus. come ye guilty and be healed, sitting at the feet of jesus; freely is god's love revealed, sitting at the feet of jesus. priscilla j. owens. ortonville. c.m. _prayer for entire purification._ ( ) forever here my rest shall be, close to thy bleeding side; 'tis all my hope and all my plea, "for me the savior died." my dying savior and my god, fountain for guilt and sin, sprinkle me ever with thy blood, and cleanse and keep me clean. wash me and make me thus thine own, wash me, and mine thou art! wash me, but not my feet alone, my hands, my head, my heart! th' atonement of thy blood apply till faith to sight improve, till hope in full fruition die, and all my soul be love. charles wesley, . ortonville. c.m. _the believer's rest._ ( ) lord, i believe a rest remains to all thy people known; a rest where pure enjoyment reigns, and thou art loved alone. a rest where all our soul's desire is fixed on things above; where fear, and sin, and grief expire, cast out by perfect love. oh, that i now the rest might know, believe and enter in: now, savior, now the power bestow, and let me cease from sin. remove this hardness from my heart; this unbelief remove: to me the rest of faith impart-- the sabbath of thy love. charles wesley. ortonville. c.m. _longing for christ._ ( ) oh! could i find from day to day, a nearness to my god; then should my hours glide sweet away, and live upon thy word. lord! i desire with thee to live. anew from day to day, in joys the world can never give, nor ever take away. o jesus! come and rule my heart and i'll be wholly thine; and never, nevermore depart; for thou art wholly mine. thus, till my last expiring breath, thy goodness i'll adore; and, when my flesh dissolves in death, my soul shall love thee more. benjamin cleveland, . ortonville. c.m. _self-dedication._ ( ) welcome, o savior! to my heart; possess thine humble throne; bid every rival hence depart, and claim me for thine own. the world and satan i forsake,-- to thee i all resign; my longing heart, o jesus! take, and make it all divine. oh! may i never turn aside, nor from thy bosom flee; let nothing here my heart divide-- i give it all to thee. hugh bourne, . rhine. c.m. _prayer for entire sanctification._ ( ) my god, i know, i feel thee mine, and will not quit my claim till all i have is lost in thine, and all renewed i am. i hold thee with a trembling hand, and will not let thee go, till steadfastly by faith i stand and all thy goodness know. jesus, thine all-victorious love shed in my heart abroad: then shall my feet no longer rove, rooted and fixed in god. refining fire, go through my heart, illuminate my soul; scatter thy life through every part, and sanctify the whole. charles wesley. bemerton. c.m. _self-consecration._ ( ) my god! accept my heart this day, and make it always thine, that i from thee no more may stray, no more from thee decline. before the cross of him who died, behold i prostrate fall; let every sin be crucified; let christ be all in all. may the dear blood, once shed for me, my blest atonement prove, that i, from first to last, may be the purchase of thy love. let every thought, and work, and word, to thee be ever given; then life shall be thy service, lord! and death the gate of heaven. matthew bridges, . uxbridge. l.m. _living to christ alone._ ( ) my gracious lord! i own thy right to every service i can pay, and call it my supreme delight, to hear thy dictates and obey. what is my being, but for thee, its sure support, its noblest end? thine ever-smiling face to see, and serve the cause of such a friend. i would not breathe for worldly joy, or to increase my worldly good; nor future days or powers employ, to spread a sounding name abroad. 'tis to my savior i would live, to him, who for my ransom died; nor could all worldly honor give such bliss as crowns me at his side. philip doddridge. . gratitude. l.m. _god wills our holiness._ ( ) he wills that i should holy be; that holiness i long to feel; that full divine conformity to all my savior's righteous will. see, lord, the travail of thy soul accomplished in the change of mine; and plunge me, every whit made whole, in all the depths of love divine. on thee, o god, my soul is stayed, and waits to prove thine utmost will; the promise by thy mercy made, thou canst, thou wilt in me fulfill. no more i stagger at thy power, or doubt thy truth, which cannot move; hasten the long-expected hour, and bless me with thy perfect love. charles wesley. duane street. l.m.d. _the way to god._ jesus, my all, to heav'n is gone, he whom i fixed my hopes upon; his track i see, and i'll pursue the narrow way till him i view. the way the holy prophets went, the road that leads from banishment; the king's highway of holiness; i'll go, for all his paths are peace. this is the way i long have sought, and mourned because i found it not; my grief a burden long has been, because i was not saved from sin. the more i strove against its power, i felt its weight and guilt the more; till late i heard my savior say, "come hither, soul, i am the way." lo! glad i come; and thou, blest lamb, shalt take me to thee, as i am; nothing but sin have i to give; nothing but love shall i receive. then will i tell to sinners round, what a dear savior i have found; i'll point to thy redeeming blood, and say, "behold the way to god." john cennick, duane street. l.m.d. _bought with a price._ lord, i am thine, entirely thine, purchased and saved by blood divine, with full consent thine i would be, and own thy sovereign right in me. grant one poor sinner more a place among the children of thy grace; a wretched sinner, lost to god, but ransomed by immanuel's blood. thine would i live, thine would i die, be thine through all eternity; the vow is past beyond repeal; and now i set the solemn seal. here at that cross where flows the blood, that bought my guilty soul for god, thee, my new master now i call, and consecrate to thee my all. rev. samuel davies, . _ab._ ellesdie. s & s. d. _leaving all to follow christ._ ( ) jesus, i my cross have taken, all to leave and follow thee; naked, poor, despised, forsaken, thou, from hence, my all shalt be! perish, every fond ambition, all i've sought, or hoped, or known, yet how rich is my condition, god and heaven are still my own! let the world despise and leave me-- they have left my savior too; human hearts and looks deceive me-- thou art not, like them, untrue. and while thou shalt smile upon me, god of wisdom, love, and might, foes may hate and friends disown me, show thy face and all is bright. go, then, earthly fame and treasure; come, disaster, scorn, and pain! in thy service pain is pleasure, with thy favor, loss is gain. i have called thee, abba, father, i have set my heart on thee; storms may howl, and clouds may gather-- all must work for good to thee. haste thee on from grace to glory, armed by faith, and winged by prayer; heaven's eternal day's before thee, god's own hand shall guide thee there. soon shall close thy earthly mission, soon shall pass thy pilgrim days; hope shall change to glad fruition, faith to sight, and prayer to praise. henry francis lyte, . autumn. s & s. double. _desiring sanctification._ ( ) love divine, all love excelling, joy of heaven, to earth come down; fix in us thy humble dwelling; all thy faithful mercies crown; jesus, thou art all compassion; pure, unbounded love thou art; visit us with thy salvation; enter every trembling heart. breathe, oh, breathe thy holy spirit into every troubled breast, let us all thy grace inherit; let us find thy promised rest; take away the love of sinning; take our load of guilt away; end the work of thy beginning; bring us to eternal day. carry on thy new creation; pure and holy may we be; let us see our whole salvation perfectly secured by thee: change from glory into glory, till in heaven we take our place, till we cast our crowns before thee, lost in wonder, love, and praise. charles wesley, . autumn. s & s. double. _union with jesus._ ( ) in thy service will i ever, jesus, my redeemer, stay; nothing me from thee shall sever, gladly would i go thy way. yes, lord jesus, i am ever thine in sorrow and in joy; death the union shall not sever, nor eternity destroy. let thy light on me be shining when the day is almost gone, when the evening is declining, and the night is drawing on: bless me, oh, my savior! laying thy hands on my weary head; "here thy day is ended," saying, "yonder live the faithful dead." stay beside me, when the stillness and the icy touch of death fill my trembling soul with chillness, like the morning's frosty breath; as my failing eyes grow dimmer, let my spirit grow more bright, as i see the first faint glimmer of the everlasting light. p. spitta, . even me. s & s. _pass me not._ ( ) lord! i hear of showers of blessing, thou art scattering, broad and free; showers, the thirsty land refreshing; let their fullness fall on me. ref.--even me, even me, let their fullness fall on me. pass me not, oh, gracious father! sinful, though my heart may be; thou might'st curse me, but the rather let thy mercy fall on me. pass me not, oh, tender savior! let me love and cling to thee; i am longing for thy favor; when thou comest, call for me. pass me not, oh, mighty spirit! thou canst make the blind to see; witnesser of jesus' merit, speak the word of power to me. have i long in sin been sleeping, long been slighting, grieving thee? has the world my heart been keeping? oh! forgive and rescue me. love of god, so pure and changeless,-- blood of god, so rich and free,-- grace of god, so strong and boundless,-- magnify them all in me. elizabeth coduer, . even me. s & s. _self-consecration._ ( ) take me, oh, my father! take me, take me, save me, through thy son; that which thou would'st have me, make me, let thy will in me be done. long from thee my footsteps straying, thorny proved the way i trod; weary come i now, and praying-- take me to thy love, my god! fruitless years with grief recalling, humbly i confess my sin; at thy feet, o father! falling, to thy household take me in. freely now to thee i proffer this relenting heart of mine; freely, life and soul i offer-- gift unworthy love like thine. once the world's redeemer dying, bore our sins upon the tree; on that sacrifice relying, now i look in hope to thee. father! take me; all forgiving, fold me to thy loving breast; in thy hope forever living, i must be forever blest! ray palmer, . ferguson. s.m. _restore my peace._ ( ) o jesus! full of grace, to thee i make my moan: let me again behold thy face-- call home thy banished one. again my pardon seal, again my soul restore, and freely my backslidings heal, and bid me sin no more. thine utmost mercy show; say to my drooping soul-- in peace and full assurance go; thy faith hath made thee whole. charles wesley, . i cannot do without thee. s & s. _dependence on christ._ i cannot do without thee, o savior of the lost! whose precious blood redeemed me at such tremendous cost. cho.--i cannot, would not, dare not, could not, will not do without thee. i have no strength or goodness, no wisdom of my own. i cannot do without thee, i cannot stand alone; i have no strength or goodness, no wisdom of my own. i cannot do without thee, i do not know the way; thou knowest and thou leadest, and wilt not let me stray. i cannot do without thee, for years are fleeting fast, and soon, in solemn loneliness, the river must be passed. frances h. havergal, alt. ferguson. s.m. _absorbed in christ._ ( ) mine eyes and my desire are ever to the lord; i love to plead his promises, and rest upon his word. lord, turn thee to my soul; bring thy salvation near; when will thy hand release my feet from sin's destructive snare? when shall the sov'reign grace of my forgiving god restore me from those dangerous ways my wand'ring feet have trod? oh, keep my soul from death, nor put my hope to shame; for i have placed my only trust in my redeemer's name. isaac watts, . trusting. s. _at the cross._ ( ) i am coming to the cross; i am poor, and weak, and blind; i am counting all but dross; i shall thy salvation find. cho.--i am trusting, lord, in thee, blest lamb of calvary; humbly at thy cross i bow; save me, jesus, save me now. long my heart has sighed for thee; long has evil reigned within; jesus sweetly speaks to me-- i will cleanse you from all sin. here i give my all to thee-- friends, and time, and earthly store; soul and body thine to be-- wholly thine--forevermore. in the promises i trust; now i feel the blood applied; i am prostrate in the dust; i with christ am crucified. jesus comes! he fills my soul! perfected in love i am! i am ev'ry whit made whole; glory! glory to the lamb! wm. mcdonald. i'll live for him. p.m. _dedication of self._ my life, my love i give to thee, thou lamb of god, who died for me; oh, may i ever faithful be my savior and my god. cho.--i'll live for him who died for me, how happy, then, my life shall be! i'll live for him who died for me, my savior and my god. i now believe thou dost receive, for thou hast died that i might live; and now henceforth i'll trust in thee, my savior and my god. oh, thou who died on calvary, to save my soul and make me free, i consecrate my life to thee, my savior and my god. take my heart, dear jesus. p.m. _the offered heart._ take my heart, dear jesus, make it all thine own, let thy holy spirit break this heart of stone, and make me all thine own. cho.--take my heart, and let it be ev'ry moment more like thee; at thy feet i bow; take my heart just now, and make me all thine own. take my heart, dear jesus, make it pure and clean; let thy blood, still flowing, wash away my sin, and make me pure and clean. take my heart, dear jesus, make it white as snow; may the cleansing fountain, may the precious flow, still keep me white as snow. baltzell entire consecration. s. _self-dedication_ take my life, and let it be consecrated, lord, to thee; take my hands and let them move at the impulse of thy love. cho.--wash me in the savior's precious blood, the precious blood, cleanse me in its purifying flood, the healing flood, lord, i give to thee my life and all, to be thine, henceforth, eternally. take my feet, and let them be swift and beautiful for thee; take my voice, and let me sing always, only for my king take my lips, and let them be filled with messages for thee; take my silver and my gold-- not a mite would i withhold. take my moments and my days, let them flow in endless praise; take my intellect, and use ev'ry pow'r as thou shalt choose. take my will, and make it thine; it shall be no longer mine; take my heart,--it is thine own,-- it shall be thy royal throne. take my love,--my lord, i pour at thy feet its treasure-store! take myself, and i will be ever, only, all for thee! frances ridley havergal. draw me to thee. s & s. _nearness to christ desired._ lord, weak and impotent i stand, as fettered by an unseen hand; break thou the strong and subtle band, and draw me close to thee. cho.--draw me close to thee, savior, draw me close to thee; beneath thy wing do thou me hide, and draw me close to thee. in vain i struggle to be free; i would, but cannot, fly to thee; ope thou the prison door for me, and draw me close to thee. oh, bring me nearer, nearer still, that thine own peace my soul may fill, and i may rest in thy sweet will; lord, draw me close to thee. here, lord, i would forever bide, and never wander from thy side; beneath thy wing do thou me hide, and draw me close to thee. m.a.w. cook. draw me to thee. s & s. _clinging to christ._ ( ) o holy savior! friend unseen, since on thine arm thou bid'st me lean, help me, throughout life's changing scene, by faith to cling to thee! cho.--help me cling to thee, savior, help me cling to thee! help me, throughout life's changing scene, by faith to cling to thee! without a murmur i dismiss my former dreams of earthly bliss; my joy, my recompense be this, each hour to cling to thee! though faith and hope are often tried, i ask not, need not, aught beside; so safe, so calm, so satisfied, the soul that clings to thee! charlotte elliott. draw me nearer. p.m. _communion with christ._ i am thine, o lord, i have heard thy voice, and it told thy love to me; but i long to rise in the arms of faith, and be closer drawn to thee. ref.--draw me nearer, nearer, blessed lord, to the cross where thou hast died; draw me nearer, nearer, nearer, blessed lord, to thy precious, bleeding side. consecrate me now to thy service, lord, by the pow'r of grace divine; let my soul look up with a steadfast hope, and my will be lost in thine. o the pure delight of a single hour that before thy throne i spend, when i kneel in pray'r, and with thee, my god, i commune as friend with friend. there are depths of love that i cannot know till i cross the narrow sea, there are heights of joy that i may not reach till i rest in peace with thee. fanny j. crosby. whiter than snow. s. _desire for purity._ lord jesus, i long to be perfectly whole; i want thee forever to live in my soul; break down ev'ry idol, cast out ev'ry foe; now wash me, and i shall be whiter than snow. cho.--whiter than snow, yes, whiter than snow; now wash me, and i shall be whiter than snow. lord jesus, look down from thy throne in the skies, and help me to make a complete sacrifice; i give up myself and whatever i know-- now wash me, and i shall be whiter than snow. lord jesus, for this i most humbly entreat; i wait, blessed lord, at thy crucified feet, by faith for my cleansing, i see thy blood flow-- now wash me, and i shall be whiter than snow. lord jesus, thou seest i patiently wait; come now, and within me a new heart create; to those who have sought thee, thou never said'st no-- now wash me, and i shall be whiter than snow. james nicholson. are you washed in the blood? p.m. _resting in christ's merits._ have you been to jesus for the cleansing pow'r? are you washed in the blood of the lamb? are you fully trusting in his grace this hour? are you washed in the blood of the lamb? cho.--are you washed in the blood, in the soul-cleansing blood of the lamb? are your garments spotless, are they white as snow? are you washed in the blood of the lamb? are you walking daily by the savior's side? are you washed in the blood of the lamb? do you rest each moment in the crucified? are you washed in the blood of the lamb? when the bridegroom cometh will your robes be white, pure and white in the blood of the lamb? will your soul be ready for the mansions bright? and be washed in the blood of the lamb? lay aside the garments that are stained with sin, and be washed in the blood of the lamb; there's a fountain flowing for the soul unclean, oh, be washed in the blood of the lamb. e.a. hoffman. the cleansing wave. c.m. _it cleanseth me._ oh, now i see the crimson wave, the fountain deep and wide; jesus, my lord, mighty to save, points to his wounded side. cho.--the cleansing stream i see! i see! i plunge, and oh, it cleanseth me; oh, praise the lord! it cleanseth me, it cleanseth me, yes, cleanseth me. i rise to walk in heaven's own light, above the world and sin, with heart made pure, and garments white, and christ enthroned within. amazing grace! 'tis heaven below to feel the blood applied; and jesus, only jesus know, my jesus crucified. mrs. phoebe palmer beulah land. l.m. _rest of faith._ i've reached the land of corn and wine. and all its riches freely mine; here shines undimmed one blissful day, for all my night has passed away. cho.--o beulah land, sweet beulah land, as on thy highest mount i stand, i look away across the sea, where mansions are prepared for me, and view the shining glory shore, my heaven, my home forevermore. the savior comes and walks with me, and sweet communion here have we; he gently leads me with his hand, for this is heaven's border land. a sweet perfume upon the breeze, is borne from ever vernal trees, and flowers that never fading grow where streams of life forever flow. the zephyrs seem to float to me, sweet sounds of heaven's melody, as angels, with the white-robed throng, join in the sweet redemption song. edgar page stites. the land of beulah. s & s. d. _beulah land._ i am dwelling on the mountain, where the golden sunlight gleams o'er a land whose wondrous beauty far exceeds my fondest dreams; where the air is pure ethereal, laden with the breath of flow'rs, they are blooming by the fountain, 'neath the amaranthine bow'rs. cho.--is not this land of beulah, blessed, blessed land of light? where the flowers bloom forever, and the sun is always bright. i can see far down the mountains, where i wandered weary years, often hindered in my journey by the ghosts of doubts and fears; broken vows and disappointments, thickly sprinkled all the way, but the spirit led unerring, to the land i hold to-day. i am drinking at the fountain, where i ever would abide; for i've tasted life's pure river, and my soul is satisfied; there's no thirsting for life's pleasures, nor adorning, rich and gay, for i've found a richer treasure. one that fadeth not away. tell me not of heavy crosses, nor the burdens hard to bear, for i've found this great salvation makes each burden light appear; and i love to follow jesus, gladly counting all but dross, worldly honors all forsaking for the glory of the cross. oh, the cross has wondrous glory! oft i've proved this to be true; when i'm in the way so narrow i can see a pathway thro'; and how sweetly jesus whispers: take the cross, thou need'st not fear, for i've tried this way before thee. and the glory lingers near. rev. wm. hunter. ortonville. c.m. _christ incomparable._ ( ) majestic sweetness sits enthroned upon the savior's brow; his head with radiant glories crowned, his lips with grace o'erflow. no mortal can with him compare among the sons of men; fairer is he, than all the fair who fill the heavenly train. he saw me plunged in deep distress, and flew to my relief; for me he bore the shameful cross, and carried all my grief. to heaven, the place of his abode, he brings my weary feet; shows me the glories of my god, and makes my joys complete. samuel stennett, . ortonville. c.m. _christ jesus, all in all._ ( ) i've found the pearl of greatest price! my heart doth sing for joy; and sing i must, for christ is mine! christ shall my song employ. christ is my prophet, priest, and king; my prophet full of light, my great high priest before the throne, my king of heavenly might. christ is my peace; he died for me, for me he gave his blood; and, as my wondrous sacrifice, offered himself to god. christ jesus is my all in all,-- my comfort, and my love; my life below, and he shall be my joy and crown above. john mason, . _a._ ortonville. c.m. _invitation to praise the redeemer._ ( ) oh, for a thousand tongues, to sing my great redeemer's praise, the glories of my god and king the triumphs of his grace. my gracious master, and my god, assist me to proclaim-- to spread, through all the earth abroad, the honors of thy name. jesus! the name that charms our fears, that bids our sorrows cease; 'tis music in the sinner's ears, 'tis life, and health, and peace. he breaks the power of canceled sin, he sets the pris'ner free: his blood can make the foulest clean-- his blood availed for me. he speaks--and, list'ning to his voice new life the dead receive; the mournful, broken hearts rejoice, the humble poor believe. hear him, ye deaf; his praise, ye dumb, your loosened tongues employ; ye blind, behold your savior come; and leap, ye lame, for joy. charles wesley, . henry. c.m. _praise to christ._ ( ) come, let us all unite to praise the savior of mankind; our thankful hearts in solemn lays be with our voices joined. o lord! we cannot silent be; by love we are constrained to offer our best thanks to thee, our savior, and our friend. let every tongue thy goodness show, and spread abroad thy fame; let every heart with praise o'erflow, and bless thy sacred name. worship and honor, thanks and love, be to our jesus given, by men below, by hosts above, by all in earth and heaven. martin madan (?), . cambridge. c.m. _the incarnation._ ( ) awake, awake, the sacred song, to our incarnate lord; let every heart and every tongue adore th' eternal word. that awful word, that sovereign power, by whom the worlds were made; oh, happy morn--illustrious hour-- was once in flesh arrayed. to dwell with misery here below, the savior left the skies, and sunk to wretchedness and woe, that worthless man might rise. adoring angels tuned their songs, to hail the joyful day; with rapture, then, let human tongues their grateful worship pay. anne steele, st. agnes. c.m. _jesus our joy._ ( ) jesus, the very tho't of thee with sweetness fills my breast; but sweeter far thy face to see, and in thy presence rest. nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame, nor can the mem'ry find a sweeter sound than thy blest name, o savior of mankind! oh, hope of ev'ry contrite heart! oh, joy of all the meek! to those who fall, how kind thou art! how good to those who seek. and those who find thee, find a bliss nor tongue nor pen can show; the love of jesus, what it is none but his loved ones know. jesus! our only joy be thou, as thou our prize wilt be; jesus! be thou our glory now, and through eternity. bernard of clairvaux, . tr. f. caswall, . st. agnes. c.m. _all-absorbing love._ ( ) o jesus, jesus, dearest lord! forgive me, if i say, for very love, thy sacred name a thousand times a day. i love thee so, i know not how my transports to control; thy love is like a burning fire within my very soul. oh, wonderful! that thou should'st let so vile a heart as mine love thee with such a love as this, and make so free with thine! o light in darkness, joy in grief! o heaven begun on earth! jesus my love, my treasure! who can tell what thou art worth? o jesus, jesus, sweetest lord! what art thou not to me? each hour brings joys before unknown, each day new liberty. frederick wm. faber, . st. agnes. c.m. _supreme love to christ._ ( ) do not i love thee, oh, my lord? behold my heart, and see; and turn each worthless idol out, that dares to rival thee. do not i love thee, from my soul? then let me nothing love; dead be my heart to every joy, which thou dost not approve. is not thy name melodious still, to mine attentive ear? doth not each pulse with pleasure thrill my savior's voice to hear? thou know'st i love thee, dearest lord! but, oh! i long to soar far from the sphere of mortal joys, and learn to love thee more. philip doddridge, . how i love jesus. c.m. _the dearest name._ ( ) there is a name i love to hear, i love to sing its worth; it sounds like music in mine ear, the sweetest name on earth. cho.--oh, how i love jesus, oh, how i love jesus, oh, how i love jesus, because he first loved me. it tells me of a savior's love, who died to set me free; it tells me of his precious blood, the sinner's perfect plea. it tells me what my father hath in store for every day, and, though i tread a darksome path, yields sunshine all the way. it tells of one, whose loving heart can feel my deepest woe, who in each sorrow bears a part, that none can bear below. frederick whitfield, . how i love jesus. c.m. _the precious name._ ( ) how sweet the name of jesus sounds in a believer's ear; it soothes his sorrow, heals his wounds, and drives away his fear. it makes the wounded spirit whole, and calms the troubled breast; 'tis manna to the hungry soul, and to the weary, rest. dear name, the rock on which i build, my shield and hiding-place; my never-failing treasure, filled with boundless stores of grace. jesus, my shepherd, savior, friend, my prophet, priest, and king, my lord, my life, my way, my end, accept the praise i bring. i would thy boundless love proclaim with every fleeting breath, so shall the music of thy name refresh my soul in death. john newton, webb. s & s. d. _the joyful prospect._ oh, when shall i see jesus, and reign with him above? and drink the flowing fountain of everlasting love? when shall i be delivered from this vain world of sin? and with my blessed jesus drink endless pleasures in? but now i am a soldier, my captain's gone before; he's given me my orders, and tells me not to fear; and if i hold out faithful, a crown of life he'll give, and all his valiant soldiers eternal life shall have. through grace i am determined to conquer, though i die, and then away to jesus on wings of love i'll fly! farewell to sin and sorrow, i bid them all adieu; and you, my friends, prove faithful, and on your way pursue. oh! do not be discouraged, for jesus is your friend; and if you lack for knowledge, he'll not forget to lend: neither will he upbraid you, though often you request; he'll give you grace to conquer, and take you home to rest. anon. webb. s & s, d. _praise to the savior._ ( ) to thee, my god and savior! my heart exulting sings, rejoicing in thy favor, almighty king of kings! i'll celebrate thy glory, with all thy saints above, and tell the joyful story of thy redeeming love. soon as the morn with roses bedecks the dewy east, and when the sun reposes upon the ocean's breast; my voice, in supplication, well-pleased thou shalt hear: oh! grant me thy salvation, and to my soul draw near. by thee, through life supported, i pass the dangerous road, with heavenly hosts escorted, up to their bright abode; there, cast my crown before thee.-- now, all my conflicts o'er,-- and day and night adore thee:-- what can an angel more? thomas haweis, . heavenly king. s. d. _rejoicing on the way._ ( ) children of the heavenly king, as we journey let us sing; sing our savior's worthy praise, glorious in his works and ways. we are trav'ling home to god, in the way our fathers trod; they are happy now, and we soon their happiness shall see. fear not, brethren; joyful stand on the borders of our land; jesus christ, our father's son, bids us undismayed go on. lord! obediently we'll go, gladly leaving all below: only thou our leader be, and we still will follow thee. john cennick, . atoning lamb. s. _delight in christ._ ( ) earth has nothing sweet or fair, lovely forms or beauties rare, but before my eyes they bring christ, of beauty source and spring. when the morning paints the skies, when the golden sunbeams rise, then my savior's form i find brightly imaged on my mind. when the day-beams pierce the night, oft i think on jesus' light,-- think,--how bright that light will be, shining through eternity. when, as moonlight softly steals, heaven its thousand eyes reveals, then i think;--who made their light is a thousand times more bright. when i see, in spring-tide gay, fields their varied tints display, wakes the thrilling thought in me, what must their creator be? lord of all that's fair to see! come, reveal thyself to me; let me, 'mid thy radiant light, see thine unveiled glories bright. ger. johann scheffler, . tr. frances elizabeth cox, . luther. s.m. _the song of the seraphs._ ( ) crown him with many crowns, the lamb upon his throne; hark! how the heavenly anthem drowns all music but its own! awake, my soul! and sing of him who died for thee; and hail him as thy matchless king, through all eternity. crown him, the lord of love! behold his hands and side, rich wounds, yet visible above in beauty glorified. crown him, the lord of peace! whose power a scepter sways, from pole to pole, that wars may cease, absorbed in prayer and praise. crown him, the lord of years! the potentate of time; creator of the rolling spheres, ineffably sublime! matthew bridges, . luther. s.m. _the song of moses and the lamb._ ( ) awake, and sing the song of moses and the lamb; wake, every heart, and every tongue! to praise the savior's name. sing of his dying love; sing of his rising power; sing how he intercedes above for those whose sins he bore. sing on your heavenly way, ye ransomed sinners! sing; sing on, rejoicing, every day, in christ, th' eternal king. soon shall ye hear him say, "ye blessed children! come;" soon will he call you hence away, and take his wanderers home. william hammond, . altered by martin madan, . greenwood. s.m. _living to god._ ( ) bless'd be thy love, dear lord! that taught us this sweet way, only to love thee for thyself, and for that love obey. oh, thou, our soul's chief hope! we to thy mercy fly; where'er we are, thou canst protect, whate'er we need, supply. whether we sleep or wake, to thee we both resign; by night we see, as well as day, if thy light on us shine. whether we live or die, both we submit to thee; in death we live, as well as life, if thine in death we be. john austin, . ariel. c.p.m. _christ's character appreciated._ ( ) oh, could i speak the matchless worth, oh! could i sound the glories forth, which in my savior shine! i'd soar and touch the heav'nly strings, and vie with gabriel while he sings, in notes almost divine. i'd sing the precious blood he spilt, my ransom from the dreadful guilt, of sin and wrath divine; i'd sing his glorious righteousness, in which all-perfect heav'nly dress my soul shall ever shine. i'd sing the characters he bears, and all the forms of love he wears, exalted on his throne; in loftiest songs of sweetest praise, i would to everlasting days, make all his glories known. well--the delightful day will come, when he, dear lord! will bring me home, and i shall see his face: there, with my savior, brother, friend, a blessed eternity i'll spend, triumphant in his grace. samuel medley, . federal street. l.m. _ashamed of me._ jesus! and shall it ever be, a mortal man ashamed of thee! ashamed of thee, whom angels praise, whose glories shine thro' endless days. ashamed of jesus! sooner far let evening blush to own a star; he sheds the beams of light divine o'er this benighted soul of mine. ashamed of jesus! that dear friend on whom my hopes of heaven depend! no; when i blush, be this my shame, that i no more revere his name. ashamed of jesus! yes, i may, when i've no guilt to wash away; no tear to wipe, no good to crave, no fears to quell, no soul to save. till then--nor is my boasting vain-- till then, i boast a savior slain! and, oh, may this my glory be that christ is not ashamed of me! joseph grigg, . _ab. and alt._ federal street. l.m. _all-engrossing love._ ( ) jesus! my heart within me burns, to tell thee all its conscious love; and from earth's low delight it turns, to taste a joy like that above. when thou to me dost condescend, in love divine, thou blessed one, the moments that with thee i spend, seem e'en as heaven itself begun. though oft these lips my love have told, they still the story would repeat; to me the rapture ne'er grows old, that thrills me, bending at thy feet. i breathe my words into thine ear; i seem to fix mine eyes on thine; and sure that thou dost wait to hear, i dare in faith to call thee mine. reign thou sole sovereign of my heart; my all i yield to thy control; oh! let me never from thee part, thou best beloved of my soul! ray palmer, . federal street. l.m. _the song of songs._ ( ) come, let us sing the song of songs, with hearts and voices swell the strain; the homage which to christ belongs;-- "worthy the lamb, for he was slain!" slain to redeem us by his blood, to cleanse from every sinful stain; and make us kings and priests to god: "worthy the lamb, for he was slain!" to him who suffered on the tree, our souls, at his soul's price, to gain, blessing, and praise, and glory be!-- "worthy the lamb, for he was slain!" come, holy spirit! from on high, our faith, our hope, our love sustain, living to sing, and dying cry,-- "worthy the lamb, for he was slain!" james montgomery, . new haven. s & s. _looking to jesus._ ( ) my faith looks up to thee, thou lamb of calvary; savior divine; now hear me while i pray; take all my guilt away; o, let me, from this day, be wholly thine. may thy rich grace impart strength to my fainting heart; my zeal inspire; as thou hast died for me, oh! may my love to thee pure, warm, and changeless be, a living fire! while life's dark maze i tread, and griefs around me spread, be thou my guide; bid darkness turn to day, wipe sorrow's tears away, nor let me ever stray from thee aside. when ends life's transient dream, when death's cold, sullen stream shall o'er me roll, blest savior! then, in love, fear and distrust remove; oh! bear me safe above, a ransomed soul! ray palmer, . new haven. s & s. _jesus, my lord._ ( ) jesus, thy name i love, all other names above, jesus, my lord! oh, thou art all to me! nothing to please i see, nothing apart from thee, jesus, my lord! when unto thee i flee, thou wilt my refuge be, jesus, my lord! what need i now to fear? what earthly grief or care, since thou art ever near, jesus, my lord! soon thou wilt come again! i shall be happy then, jesus, my lord! then thine own face i'll see, then i shall like thee be, then evermore with thee, jesus, my lord! j.g. deck, . every day and hour. p.m. _nearness to christ._ savior, more than life to me, i am clinging, clinging close to thee; let thy precious blood applied, keep me ever, ever near thy side. cho.--every day, every hour, let me feel thy cleansing power; may thy tender love to me; bind me closer, closer, lord, to thee. thro' this changing world below, lead me gently, gently as i go; trusting thee, i cannot stray, i can never, never lose my way. let me love thee more and more, till this fleeting, fleeting life is o'er; till my soul is lost in love, in a brighter, brighter world above. fanny j. crosby. bethany. s & s. _love to christ desired._ ( ) more love to thee, o christ, more love to thee! hear thou the prayer i make on bended knee: this is my earnest plea-- more love, o christ, to thee! more love to thee! once earthly joy i craved-- sought peace and rest; now thee alone i seek: give what is best. this all my prayer shall be-- more love, o christ, to thee; more love to thee! then shall my latest breath whisper thy praise; this be the parting cry my heart shall raise-- this still its prayer shall be, more love, o christ, to thee! more love to thee! mrs. e.p. prentiss, . bethany. s & s. _nearer to god._ ( ) nearer, my god, to thee, nearer to thee; e'en though it be a cross that raiseth me. still all my song shall be nearer, my god, to thee,-- nearer to thee. though like the wanderer the sun gone down, darkness be over me, my rest a stone, yet, in my dreams, i'd be nearer, my god! to thee,-- nearer to thee. there let the way appear, steps unto heaven; all that thou send'st to me, in mercy given; angels to beckon me nearer, my god! to thee,-- nearer to thee. or if, on joyful wing, cleaving the sky, sun, moon, and stars forgot, upward i fly, still all my song shall be, nearer, my god! to thee,-- nearer to thee. mrs. sarah flower adams, . hope. s & s. _parting with the world._ ( ) fade, fade, each earthly joy, jesus is mine: break ev'ry mortal tie; jesus is mine. dark is the wilderness, distant the resting-place; jesus alone can bless, jesus is mine. tempt not my soul away: jesus is mine: here would i ever stay; jesus is mine: perishing things of clay, born but for one brief day! pass from my heart away, jesus is mine. farewell, ye dreams of night! jesus is mine: mine is a dawning bright, jesus is mine: all that my soul has tried, left but a dismal void; jesus has satisfied; jesus is mine. farewell, mortality! jesus is mine: welcome, eternity! jesus is mine: welcome, ye scenes of rest! welcome, ye mansions blest! welcome a savior's breast; jesus is mine. mrs. horatius bonar, . hendon. s. _jesus a joy._ ask ye what great thing i know that delights and stirs me so? what the high reward i win? whose the name i glory in? jesus christ, the crucified. what is faith's foundation strong? what awakes my lips to song? he who bore my sinful load, purchased for me peace with god; jesus christ, the crucified. who is life in life to me? who the death of death will be? who will place me on his right with the countless hosts of light? jesus christ, the crucified. this is that great thing i know; this delights and stirs me so; faith in him who died to save, him who triumphed o'er the grave, jesus christ, the crucified. rev. b. h. kennedy, . woodworth. l.m. _ecstasy in christ._ ( ) oh, that i could forever dwell delighted at the savior's feet, behold the form i love so well, and all his tender words repeat. the world shut out from all my soul, and heaven brought in with all its bliss, oh! is there aught, from pole to pole, one moment to compare with this? this is the hidden life i prize, a life of penitential love, when most my follies i despise, and raise my highest thoughts above. when all i am i clearly see, and freely own with deepest shame; when the redeemer's love to me kindles within a deathless flame. thus would i live till nature fail and all my former sins forsake; then rise to god within the veil, and of eternal joys partake. andrew reed, . revive us again. s & s. _praise for salvation._ ( ) we praise thee, o god! for the son of thy love, for jesus who died, and is now gone above. cho.--hallelujah! thine the glory, hallelujah! amen. hallelujah! thine the glory, revive us again. we praise thee, o god! for thy spirit of light, who has shown us our savior, and scattered our night. all glory and praise to the lamb that was slain, who has borne all our sins, and has cleansed ev'ry stain. all glory and praise to the god of all grace, who has bought us, and sought us, and guided our ways. revive us again; fill each heart with thy love; may each soul be rekindled with fire from above. wm. p. mackay, . revive us again. s & s. _rejoicing in christ._ rejoice and be glad the redeemer has come! go look on his cradle, his cross and his tomb. cho.--sound his praises, tell the story, of him who was slain, sound his praises, tell with gladness, he liveth again. rejoice and be glad: for the blood has been shed; redemption is finished, the price has been paid. rejoice and be glad: for the lamb that was slain, o'er death is triumphant, and liveth again. rejoice and be glad: for our king is on high; he pleadeth for us on his throne in the sky. rejoice and be glad: for he cometh again-- he cometh in glory, the lamb that was slain. h. bonar, . welcome voice. s.m. _going on to perfection._ i hear thy welcome voice that calls me, lord, to thee for cleansing in thy precious blood that flowed on calvary. cho.--i am coming, lord! coming now to thee! wash me, cleanse me, in the blood that flowed on calvary. tho' coming weak and vile, thou dost my strength assure; thou dost my vileness fully cleanse, till spotless all and pure. 'tis jesus calls me on to perfect faith and love, to perfect hope, and peace, and trust, for earth and heaven above. 'tis jesus who confirms the blessed work within, by adding grace to welcomed grace, where reigned the power of sin. and he the witness gives to loyal hearts and free, that every promise is fulfilled, if faith but brings the plea. all hail, atoning blood! all hail, redeeming grace! all hail, the gift of christ, our lord, our strength and righteousness! rev. l. hartsough. welcome voice. s.m. _christ the guide and counselor._ ( ) jesus, my truth, my way, my sure, unerring light, on thee my feeble steps i stay, which thou wilt guide aright. my wisdom and my guide, my counselor thou art; oh, never let me leave thy side, or from thy paths depart. never will i remove out of thy hands my cause; but rest in thy redeeming love, and hang upon thy cross. oh, make me all like thee, before i hence remove; settle, confirm, and 'stablish me-- and build me up in love. charles wesley. loving kindness. l.m. _loving kindness._ ( ) awake, my soul, to joyful lays, and sing thy great redeemer's praise; he justly claims a song from me, his loving kindness, oh, how free! he saw me ruined in the fall, yet loved me notwithstanding all; he saved me from my lost estate-- his loving kindness, oh, how great! though numerous hosts of mighty foes-- though earth and hell my way oppose; he safely leads my soul along-- his loving kindness, oh, how strong! when trouble, like a gloomy cloud, has gathered thick and thundered loud, he near my soul has always stood-- his loving kindness, oh, how good! s. medley, . loving kindness. l.m. _love which passeth knowledge._ of him who did salvation bring, i could forever think and sing; arise, ye needy, he'll relieve; arise, ye guilty, he'll forgive. ask but his grace, and lo, 'tis given! ask, and he turns your hell to heaven; though sin and sorrow wound my soul, jesus, thy balm will make me whole. 'tis thee i love, for thee alone, i shed my tears, and make my moan! where'er i am, where'er i move, i meet the object of my love. insatiate to this spring i fly; i drink, and yet am ever dry; ah! who against thy charms is proof? ah, who that loves can love enough? bernard of clairvaux, tr. by a.w. boehm, the solid rock. l.m. _the sure foundation._ my hope is built on nothing less than jesus' blood and righteousness; i dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on jesus' name. cho.--on christ, the solid rock, i stand, all other ground is sinking sand. when darkness veils his lovely face, i rest on his unchanging grace; in every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the vail. his oath, his covenant, his blood, support me in the whelming flood; when all around my soul gives way, he then is all my hope and stay. when he shall come with trumpet sound. o, may i then in him be found; dressed in his righteousness alone, faultless to stand before the throne. rev. edward mote, . how can i but love him? s & s. _the exceeding love of christ._ so tender, so precious. my savior to me; so true, and so gracious, i've found him to be. ref.--how can i but love him? but love him, but love him? there's no friend above him, poor sinner, for thee. so patient, so kindly toward all of my ways; i blunder so blindly, he love still repays. of all friends the fairest and truest is he; his love is the rarest, that ever can be. his beauty, tho' bleeding and circled with thorns, is then most exceeding; for grief him adorns. j.e. rankin, d.d. my beloved, s & s. _my beloved._ o thou, in whose presence my soul takes delight, on whom in affliction i call; my comfort by day, and my song in the night, my hope, my salvation, my all. where dost thou at noon-tide resort with thy sheep, to feed in the pastures of love? and why in the valley of death should i weep, or alone in the wilderness rove? o, why should i wander an alien from thee, or cry in the desert for bread? thy foes will rejoice when my sorrows they see, and smile at the tears i have shed. he looks, and ten thousands of angels rejoice, and myriads wait for his word; he speaks, and eternity, fill'd with his voice, re-echoes the praise of the lord. jos. swain, . de fleury. s. d _the presence of christ desired._ how tedious and tasteless the hours when jesus no longer i see! sweet prospects, sweet birds, and sweet flowers have lost all their sweetness to me: the midsummer sun shines but dim; the fields strive in vain to look gay; but when i am happy in him, december's as pleasant as may. his name yields the richest perfume, and sweeter than music his voice; his presence disperses my gloom, and makes all within me rejoice: i should, were he always so nigh, have nothing to wish or to fear; no mortal so happy as i; my summer would last all the year. content with beholding his face, my all to his pleasure resigned, no changes of season or place would make any change in my mind: while blest with a sense of his love, a palace a toy would appear; and prisons would palaces prove, if jesus would dwell with me there. dear lord, if indeed i am thine, if thou art my sun and my song, say, why do i languish and pine? and why are my winters so long? o, drive these dark clouds from my sky; thy soul-cheering presence restore; or take me unto thee on high, where winter and clouds are no more. john newton. de fleury. s. d _phil. : ._ ( ) my savior, whom absent i love, whom, not having seen, i adore whose name is exalted above all glory, dominion, and power,-- dissolve thou these bands that detain my soul from her portion in thee; ah! strike off this adamant chain, and make me eternally free! when that happy era begins, when arrayed in thy glories i shine, nor grieve any more, by my sins, the bosom on which i recline, oh! then shall the veil be removed, and round me thy brightness be poured! i shall meet him, whom absent i loved, i shall see, whom unseen i adored. and then, nevermore shall the fears, the trials, temptations, and woes, which darken this valley of tears, intrude on my blissful repose; to jesus, the crown of my hope, my soul is in haste to be gone; oh! bear me, ye cherubim, up, and waft me away to his throne! w. cowper. i need thee every hour. p.m. _need of christ._ i need thee ev'ry hour, most gracious lord; no tender voice like thine can peace afford. cho.--i need thee, oh, i need thee, ev'ry hour i need thee; oh, bless me now, my savior i come to thee. i need thee ev'ry hour; stay thou near by; temptations lose their power when thou art nigh. i need thee ev'ry hour, in joy or pain; come quickly and abide, or life is vain. i need thee ev'ry hour; teach me thy will; and thy rich promises in me fulfill. i need thee ev'ry hour, most holy one; oh, make me thine indeed, thou blessed son. annie s. hawks. de fleury. s. d _altogether lovely._ ( ) my gracious redeemer i love, his praises aloud i'll proclaim: and join with the armies above, to shout his adorable name. to gaze on his glories divine shall be my eternal employ; to see them incessantly shine, my boundless, ineffable joy. he freely redeemed with his blood my soul from the confines of hell, to live on the smiles of my god, and in his sweet presence to dwell:-- to shine with the angels in light, with saints and with seraphs to sing, to view, with eternal delight, my jesus, my savior, my king! b. francis. the lily of the valley. p.m. _the abiding friend._ i have found a friend in jesus, he's everything to me, he's the fairest of ten thousand to my soul; the lily of the valley, in him alone i see all i need to cleanse and make me fully whole. in sorrow he's my comfort, in trouble he's my stay, he tells me ev'ry care on him to roll. he's the lily of the valley, the bright and morning star, he's the fairest of ten thousand to my soul. he all my griefs has taken, and all my sorrows borne; in temptation he's my strong and mighty tower; i have all for him forsaken, and all my idols torn from my heart, and now he keeps me by his power. tho' all the world forsake me, and satan tempt me sore, thro' jesus i shall safely reach the goal. he's the lily of the valley, the bright and morning star, he's the fairest of ten thousand to my soul. he will never, never leave me, nor yet forsake me here, while i live by faith and do his blessed will; a wall of fire about me, i've nothing now to fear, with his manna he my hungry soul shall fill. then sweeping up to glory to see his blessed face, where rivers of delight shall ever roll. he's the lily of the valley, the bright and morning star, he's the fairest of ten thousand to my soul. glory to his name. p.m. _praise to christ._ down at the cross where my savior died. down where for cleansing from sin i cried; there to my heart was the blood applied; glory to his name. cho.--glory to his name, glory to his name, there to my heart was the blood applied, glory to his name. i am so wondrously saved from sin, jesus so sweetly abides within; there at the cross where he took me in; glory to his name. oh, precious fountain that saves from sin, i am so glad, i have entered in; there jesus saves me and keeps me clean; glory to his name. come to this fountain, so rich and sweet, cast thy poor soul at the savior's feet; plunge in to-day and be made complete; glory to his name. rev. e.a. hoffman. balerma. c.m. _lamenting the absence of the spirit._ ( ) oh, for a closer walk with god! a calm and heavenly frame! a light to shine upon the road that leads me to the lamb! where is the blessedness i knew when first i saw the lord? where is the soul-refreshing view of jesus and his word? what peaceful hours i then enjoyed! how sweet their memory still! but now i find an aching void the world can never fill. return, oh, holy dove, return, sweet messenger of rest; i hate the sins that made thee mourn, and drove thee from, my breast. the dearest idol i have known, whatever that idol be, help me to tear it from thy throne, and worship only thee. so shall my walk be close with god, calm and serene my frame; so purer light shall mark the road that leads me to the lamb. w. cowper, . balerma. c.m. _a perfect heart._ ( ) oh, for a heart to praise my god, a heart from sin set free-- a heart that always feels thy blood, so freely spilt for me;-- a heart resigned, submissive, meek, my great redeemer's throne, where only christ is heard to speak, where jesus reigns alone. oh, for a lowly, contrite heart, believing, true, and clean, which neither life nor death can part from him that dwells within;-- a heart in every thought renewed, and full of love divine; perfect, and right, and pure, and good, a copy, lord, of thine. thy nature, gracious lord, impart; come quickly from above; write thy new name upon my heart-- thy new, best name of love. charles wesley. . balerma. c.m. _triumphant grace._ ( ) amazing grace! how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me! i once was lost, but now am found, was blind, but now i see. 'twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved: how precious did that grace appear, the hour i first believed! through many dangers, toils, and snares i have already come; 'tis grace has brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home. the lord has promised good to me, his word my hope secures; he will my shield and portion be, as long as life endures. evan. c.m. _the peace of god._ ( ) we bless thee for thy peace, o god deep as the soundless sea, which falls like sunshine on the road of those who trust in thee. that peace which suffers and is strong, trusts where it cannot see, deems not the trial way too long, but leaves the end with thee;-- that peace which flows serene and deep, a river in the soul, whose banks a living verdure keep; god's sunshine o'er the whole. such, father! give our hearts such peace, whate'er the outward be, till all life's discipline shall cease, and we go home to thee. anon. . varina. c.m. d. _the voice of jesus._ ( ) i heard the voice of jesus say, "come unto me and rest; lay down, thou weary one, lay down thy head upon my breast." i came to jesus as i was, weary, and worn, and sad; i found in him a resting-place, and he has made me glad. i heard the voice of jesus say "behold! i freely give the living water; thirsty one! stoop down, and drink, and live." i came to jesus, and i drank of that life-giving stream; my thirst was quenched, my soul revived, and now i live in him. i heard the voice of jesus say, "i am this dark world's light; look unto me; thy morn shall rise, and all thy day be bright." i looked to jesus, and i found, in him my star, my sun; and, in that light of life, i'll walk till traveling days are done. horatius bonar, . dennis. s.m. _the lord's guardianship._ ( ) how gentle god's commands! how kind his precepts are! come, cast your burdens on the lord, and trust his constant care. his bounty will provide; his saints securely dwell; that hand which bears creation up, shall guard his children well. why should this anxious load press down your weary mind? oh, seek your heavenly father's throne, and peace and comfort find. his goodness stands approved, unchanged from day to day; i'll drop my burden at his feet, and bear a song away. philip doddridge, . dennis. s.m. _grace.--eph. : ._ ( ) grace! 'tis a charming sound harmonious to the ear! heaven with the echo shall resound, and all the earth shall hear. grace first contrived a way to save rebellious man; and all the steps that grace display, which drew the wondrous plan. grace led my roving feet to tread the heavenly road; and new supplies each hour i meet while pressing on to god. grace all the work shall crown, through everlasting days; it lays in heaven the topmost stone; and well deserves the praise. philip doddridge, . dennis. s.m. _adoption.--i. john : - ._ ( ) behold what wondrous grace the father has bestowed on sinners of a mortal race, to call them sons of god! nor doth it yet appear how great we must be made; but when we see our savior there, we shall be like our head. a hope so much divine may trials well endure, may purge our souls from sense and sin, as christ the lord is pure. if in my father's love i share a filial part, send down thy spirit, like a dove, to rest upon my heart. we would no longer lie like slaves beneath the throne; our faith shall abba, father! cry and thou the kindred own. isaac watts, . nettleton. s & s. _memorial of praise._ ( ) come, thou fount of ev'ry blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace; streams of mercy never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise. teach me some melodious sonnet, sung by flaming tongues above; praise the mount--i'm fixed upon it, mount of thy redeeming love. here i'll raise mine ebenezer, hither by thy help i'm come; and i hope by thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home. jesus sought me when a stranger, wand'ring from the fold of god, he, to rescue me from danger, interposed his precious blood. oh! to grace how great a debtor daily i'm constrained to be! let thy goodness, like a fetter, bind my wand'ring heart to thee. prone to wander, lord, i feel it; prone to leave the god i love-- here's my heart, oh, take and seal it; seal it for thy courts above. robert robinson, . braden. s.m. _the lord's pity._ ( ) the pity of the lord, to those that fear his name, is such as tender parents feel; he knows our feeble frame. he knows we are but dust, scattered with ev'ry breath; his anger, like a rising wind, can send us swift to death. our days are as the grass, or like the morning flow'r; if one sharp blast sweep o'er the field, it withers in an hour. but thy compassions, lord, to endless years endure; and children's children ever find thy words of promise sure. isaac watts. . refuge. s. d. _the only refuge._ ( ) jesus, lover of my soul, let me to thy bosom fly, while the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is high! hide me, o my savior, hide, till the storm of life is past; safe into the haven guide, o receive my soul at last! other refuge have i none; hangs my helpless soul on thee: leave, o, leave me not alone, still support and comfort me: all my trust on thee is stayed, all my help from thee i bring; cover my defenseless head with the shadow of thy wing! thou, o christ, art all i want; more than all in thee i find; raise the fallen, cheer the faint, heal the sick, and lead the blind. just and holy is thy name, i am all unrighteousness: false and full of sin i am, thou art full of truth and grace. plenteous grace with thee is found, grace to cover all my sin: let the healing streams abound: make and keep me pure within. thou of life the fountain art, freely let me take of thee: spring thou up within my heart, rise to all eternity. charles wesley, . pilot. s. _savior, pilot me._ jesus, savior, pilot me, over life's tempestuous sea; unknown waves before me roll, hiding rock and treach'rous shoal; chart and compass come from thee; jesus, savior, pilot me. as a mother stills her child, thou canst hush the ocean wild; boist'rous waves obey thy will, when thou say'st to them "be still!" wondrous sov'reign of the sea, jesus, savior, pilot me. when at last i near the shore, and the fearful breakers roar 'twixt me and the peaceful rest, then, while leaning on thy breast, may i hear thee say to me, "fear not, i will pilot thee!" rev. edward hopper fulton. s. ( ) savior! teach me, day by day, love's sweet lesson to obey; sweeter lesson cannot be, loving him who first loved me. with a child-like heart of love, at thy bidding may i move; prompt to serve and follow thee, loving him who first loved me. teach me all thy steps to trace, strong to follow in thy grace; learning how to love from thee, loving him who first loved me. love in loving finds employ-- in obedience all her joy; ever new that joy will be, loving him who first loved me. miss jane e. leeson, . oriel. l.m. _contentment.--phil. : ._ ( ) o lord, how full of sweet content our years of pilgrimage are spent! where'er we dwell, we dwell with thee, in heaven, in earth, or on the sea. to us remains nor place nor time; our country is in every clime: we can be calm and free from care on any shore, since god is there. while place we seek, or place we shun, the soul finds happiness in none; but with our god to guide our way, 'tis equal joy to go or stay. could we be cast where thou art not, that were indeed a dreadful lot; but regions none remote we call, secure of finding god in all. mad. guyon. newcomer. l.m. _completeness.--col. : ._ ( ) complete in thee! no work of mine may take, dear lord, the place of thine; thy blood has pardon bought for me, and i am now complete in thee. complete in thee--no more shall sin thy grace has conquered, reign within; thy voice will bid the tempter flee, and i shall stand complete in thee. complete in thee--each want supplied, and no good thing to me denied, since thou my portion, lord, wilt be, i ask no more--complete in thee. dear savior! when before thy bar all tribes and tongues assembled are. among thy chosen may i be at thy right hand--complete in thee. a.r.w. waring. s & s. d. _safe in jesus._ ( ) in heavenly love abiding, no change my heart shall fear, and safe is such confiding, for nothing changes here, the storm may roar without me, my heart may low be laid, but god is round about me,-- and can i be dismayed? wherever he may guide me, no want shall turn me back: my shepherd is beside me, and nothing can i lack; his wisdom ever waketh, his sight is never dim, he knows the way he taketh, and i will walk with him. green pastures are before me, which yet i have not seen; bright skies will soon be o'er me, where darkest clouds have been; my hope i cannot measure, my path to life is free; my savior has my treasure, and he will walk with me. anna letitia waring, . waring. s & s. d. _light after darkness._ sometimes a light surprises the christian while he sings: it is the lord who rises with healing on his wings; when comforts are declining, he grants the soul again a season of clear shining, to cheer it after rain. in holy contemplation, we sweetly then pursue the theme of god's salvation, and find it ever new: set free from present sorrow, we cheerfully can say, let the unknown to-morrow bring with it what it may. wm. cowper. showers of blessing. p.m. _the promise of blessing_ "there shall be showers of blessing;" this is the promise of love; there shall be seasons refreshing, sent from the savior above. cho.--showers, showers of blessing, showers of blessing we need; mercy-drops round us are falling, but for the showers we plead. "there shall be showers of blessing;"-- precious reviving again; over the hills and the valleys, sound of abundance of rain. "there shall be showers of blessing;" send them upon us, o lord! grant to us now a refreshing, come, and now honor thy word. "there shall be showers of blessing;" oh, that to-day they might fall, now as to god we're confessing, now as on jesus we call! d.w. whittle. oh, sing of his mighty love. s. _the mighty love._ ( ) oh, bliss of the purified! bliss of the free! i plunge in the crimson tide opened for me! o'er sin and uncleanness exulting i stand, and point to the print of the nails in his hand. cho.--oh, sing of his mighty love, sing of his mighty love, sing of his mighty love, mighty to save. oh, bliss of the purified! jesus is mine! no longer in dread condemnation i pine: in conscious salvation i sing of his grace, who lifteth upon me the smiles of his face. oh, bliss of the purified! bliss of the pure! no wound hath the soul that his blood cannot cure; no sorrow-bowed head but may sweetly find rest; no tears but may dry them on jesus' breast. oh, jesus, the crucified! thee will i sing! my blessed redeemer! my god and my king; my soul, filled with rapture, shall shout o'er the grave, and triumph in death in the mighty to save. rev. f. bottome. as pants the hart. c.m. _desire for communion._ ( ) as pants the hart for cooling streams, when heated in the chase, so pants my soul, o lord, for thee, and thy refreshing grace. cho.--as pants the hart for cooling streams, so pants my soul, o lord, for thee; as pants the hart for cooling streams, so pants my soul, o lord, for thee. for thee, my god, the living god, my thirsty soul doth pine; oh, when shall i behold thy face, thou majesty divine? i sigh to think of happier days, when thou, o lord, wast nigh, when ev'ry heart was tuned to praise, and none more blest than i. why restless, why cast down, my soul? trust god, and thou shalt sing his praise again, and find him still thy health's eternal spring. henry f. lyte, . hide thou me. p.m. _safe in christ._ in thy cleft, o rock of ages, hide thou me; when the fitful tempest rages, hide thou me; where no mortal arm can sever from my heart thy love forever, hide me, o thou rock of ages, safe in thee. from, the snare of sinful pleasure hide thou me; thou, my soul's eternal treasure, hide thou me; when the world its power is wielding, and my heart is almost yielding, hide me, o thou rock of ages, safe in thee. in the lonely night of sorrow, hide thou me; till in glory dawns the morrow, hide thou me; in the sight of jordan's billow, let thy bosom be my pillow, hide me, o thou rock of ages, safe in thee. fannie j. crosby. as pants the hart. c.m. _godly sincerity.--eph. : ._ ( ) walk in the light! so shalt thou know that fellowship of love, his spirit only can bestow, who reigns in light above. walk in the light! and thou shalt find thy heart made truly his, who dwells in cloudless light enshrined, in whom no darkness is. walk in the light! and ev'n the tomb no fearful shade shall wear; glory shall chase away its gloom, for christ hath conquered there. walk in the light! and thou shalt see thy path, though thorny, bright, for god by grace shall dwell in thee, and god himself is light. bernard barton. the child of a king. _adoption._ my father is rich in houses and lands. he holdeth the wealth of the world in his hands! of rubies and diamonds, of silver and gold, his coffers are full, he has riches untold. cho.--i'm the child of a king, the child of a king, with jesus, my savior, i'm the child of a king. my father's own son, the savior so fair, once wandered on earth human sorrow to share: but now he is reigning forever on high, he'll give us a home in the sweet by and by. i once was an outcast stranger on earth, a sinner by choice and an "alien" by birth! but i've been "adopted," my name's written down: an heir to a mansion, a robe, and a crown. a tent or a cottage, why should i care? they're building a palace for me over there! tho' exiled from home, yet my glad heart can sing: all glory to god, i'm the child of a king. hattie e. buell. arr. thou thinkest, lord, of me. s & s. _divine care._ amid the trials which i meet, amid the thorns that pierce my feet, one thought remains supremely sweet, thou thinkest, lord, of me! cho.--thou thinkest, lord, of me, thou thinkest, lord, of me, what need i fear when thou art near, and thinkest, lord, of me. the cares of life come thronging fast upon my soul their shadow cast; their gloom reminds my heart at last, thou thinkest, lord, of me! let shadows come, let shadows go, let life be bright or dark with woe, i am content, for this i know, thou thinkest, lord, of me! e.s. lorenz thou thinkest, lord, of me. s & s. _plead for me._ ( ) o thou, the contrite sinner's friend, who loving, lov'st them to the end, on this alone my hopes depend that thou wilt plead for me. cho.--o savior, plead for me, o savior, plead for me, on this alone my hopes depend that thou wilt plead for me. when weary in the christian race, far off appears my resting place, and, fainting, i mistrust thy grace, then, savior, plead for me. when i have erred and gone astray, afar from thine and wisdom's way, and see no glimmering, guiding ray, still, savior, plead for me. when satan, by my sins made bold, strives from thy cross to loose my hold, then with thy pitying arms enfold, and plead, oh, plead for me! and when my dying hour draws near, darkened with anguish, guilt and fear, then to my fainting sight appear, pleading in heaven for me. charlotte elliott. hamburg. l.m. _heb. : ._ ( ) i cannot always trace the way where thou, almighty one, dost move; but i can always, always say, that god is love, that god is love. when fear her chilling mantle flings o'er earth, my soul to heaven above, as to her native home, upsprings, for god is love, for god is love. when mystery clouds my darkened path, i'll check my dread, my doubts reprove; in this my soul sweet comfort hath, that god is love, that god is love. . yes, god is love;--a thought like this can every gloomy thought remove, and turn all tears, all woes, to bliss, for god is love, for god is love. anon. ward. l.m. _psalm ._ ( ) god is the refuge of his saints, when storms of sharp distress invade. ere we can offer our complaints, behold him present with his aid. let mountains from their seats be hurled down to the deep, and buried there; convulsions shake the solid world;-- our faith shall never yield to fear. there is a stream whose gentle flow supplies the city of our god; life, love, and joy still gliding through, and watering our divine abode:-- that sacred stream, thy holy word,-- that all our raging fear controls: sweet peace thy promises afford, and give new strength to fainting souls. isaac watts, . sessions. l.m. _the offices of faith._ faith is a living pow'r from heaven which grasps the promise god has given; securely fixed on christ alone, a trust that cannot be o'erthrown. faith finds in christ whate'er we need to save and strengthen, guide and feed; strong in his grace, it joys to share his cross, in hope his crown to wear. faith to the conscience whispers peace, and bids the mourner's sighing cease; by faith the children's right we claim, and call upon our father's name. such faith in us, o god, implant, and to our prayers thy favor grant; in jesus christ, thy saving son, who is our fount of health alone. anon., . elliott. s & s. _submission to divine will._ my god, my father, while i stray far from my home, in life's rough way, oh, teach me from my heart to say, "thy will be done!" if thou should'st call me to resign what most i prize--it ne'er was mine-- i only yield thee what was thine-- "thy will be done!" if but my fainting heart be blest with thy sweet spirit for its guest, my god! to thee i leave the rest-- "thy will be done!" renew my will from day to day; blend it with thine, and take away all that now makes it hard to say, "thy will be done!" then, when on earth i breathe no more the pray'r, oft mixed with tears before, i'll sing upon a happier shore, "thy will be done!" charlotte elliott, . lisbon. s.m. _the cross and crown._ ( ) oh! what, if we are christ's, is earthly shame or loss? bright shall the crown of glory be when we have borne the cross. keen was the trial once, bitter the cup of woe, when martyred saints, baptized in blood, christ's sufferings shared below. bright is their glory now, boundless their joy above, where, on the bosom of their god, they rest in perfect love. lord! may that grace be ours, like them, in faith, to bear all that of sorrow, grief, or pain may be our portion here. henry w. baker, . lisbon. s.m. _god our shepherd.--ps. ._ ( ) the lord my shepherd is; i shall be well supplied: since he is mine, and i am his, what can i want beside? he leads me to the place where heavenly pasture grows, where living waters gently pass, and full salvation flows. if e'er i go astray, he doth my soul reclaim, and guides me, in his own right way, for his most holy name. while he affords his aid, i cannot yield to fear; tho' i should walk thro' death's dark shade, my shepherd's with me there. isaac watts, . lisbon. s.m. _psalm : - ._ ( ) here i can firmly rest; i dare to boast of this, that god, the highest and the best, my friend and father is. naught have i of my own, naught in the life i lead; what christ hath given, that alone i dare in faith to plead. i rest upon the ground of jesus and his blood; it is through him that i have found my soul's eternal good. at cost of all i have, at cost of life and limb, i cling to god who yet shall save; i will not turn from him. his spirit in me dwells, o'er all my mind he reigns; my care and sadness he dispels, and soothes away my pains. he prospers day by day his work within my heart, till i have strength and faith to say, thou, god, my father art! paul gerhardt, . tr. by miss c. winkworth, . segur. s, s, & s. _through the desert._ ( ) guide me, oh thou great jehovah, pilgrim thro' this barren land; i am weak, but thou art mighty; hold me with thy powerful hand. bread of heaven, feed me till i want no more. open now thy crystal fountain, whence the healing streams do flow, let the fiery, cloudy pillar, lead me all my journey thro'; strong deliverer, be thou still my strength and shield. when i tread the verge of jordan, bid my anxious fears subside; foe to death and hell's destruction, land me safe on canaan's side; songs of praises, i will ever give to thee. william williams, . lisbon. s.m. _hope thou in god._ ( ) give to the winds thy fears; hope, and be undismayed; god hears thy sighs and counts thy tears, god shall lift up thy head. through waves, and clouds, and storms, he gently clears the way; wait thou his time; so shall this night soon end in joyous day. what, though thou rulest not? yet heaven, and earth, and hell proclaim,--god sitteth on the throne, and ruleth all things well. leave to his sovereign sway to choose and to command; so shalt thou wondering own, his way how wise, how strong his hand! ger., paul gerhardt, . tr. john wesley, . peterborough. c.m. _unwavering faith._ ( ) oh! for a faith that will not shrink, though pressed by every foe; that will not tremble on the brink of any earthly woe!-- that will not murmur nor complain, beneath the chastening rod, but, in the hour of grief or pain, will lean upon its god;-- a faith that shines more bright and clear when tempests rage without; that, when in danger, knows no fear, in darkness, feels no doubt;-- a faith that keeps the narrow way till life's last hour is fled, and, with a pure and heavenly ray, lights up a dying bed! lord! give us such a faith as this; and then, whate'er may come, we'll taste, ev'n here, the hallowed bliss of an eternal home. william h. bathurst, . naomi. c.m. _resignation._ ( ) father! whate'er of earthly bliss thy sovereign hand denies, accepted at thy throne of grace, let this petition rise:-- "give me a calm, a thankful heart, from every murmur free; the blessings of thy grace impart, and let me live to thee. "let the sweet hope that thou art mine my path of life attend; thy presence through my journey shine, and bless its happy end." anne steele, . horton. s. _eternal faithfulness._ ( ) cast thy burden on the lord, only lean upon his word; thou wilt soon have cause to bless his eternal faithfulness. he sustains thee by his hand, he enables thee to stand; those whom jesus once hath loved, from his grace are never moved. heaven and earth may pass away, god's free grace shall not decay; he hath promised to fulfill all the pleasure of his will. jesus! guardian of thy flock, be thyself our constant rock; make us, by thy powerful hand, strong as zion's mountain stand. rowland hill, . the lord will provide. p.m. _divine providence._ in some way or other the lord will provide; it may not be my way, it may not be thy way, and yet in his own way, the lord will provide. at some time or other the lord will provide; it may not be my time, it may not be thy time, and yet in his own time, the lord will provide. despond then no longer, the lord will provide; and this be the token-- no word he hath spoken, was ever yet broken, the lord will provide. march on, then, right boldly the sea shall divide; the pathway made glorious with shoutings victorious, we'll join in the chorus, the lord will provide. mrs. m.a.w. cook. consolation. s. _heb. : ._ ( ) oh, eyes that are weary, and hearts that are sore! look off unto jesus, now sorrow no more! the light of his countenance shineth so bright, that here, as in heaven, there need be no night. while looking to jesus, my heart cannot fear; i tremble no more when i see jesus near; i know that his presence my safeguard will be, for, "why are you troubled?" he saith unto me. still looking to jesus, o, may i be found, when jordan's dark waters encompass me round! they bear me away in his presence to be; i see him still nearer whom always i see. then, then shall i know the full beauty and grace of jesus, my lord, when i stand face to face; shall know how his love went before me each day, and wonder that ever my eyes turned away. foundation. s. _precious promises._ ( ) how firm a foundation, ye saints of the lord, is laid for your faith in his excellent word: what more can he say than to you he has said, you who unto jesus for refuge have fled? in every condition--in sickness, in health, in poverty's vale, or abounding in wealth, at home and abroad, on the land, on the sea-- as your days may demand, so your succor shall be. fear not: i am with you, o be not dismayed; i, i am your god, and will still give you aid; i'll strengthen you, help you, and cause you to stand, upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand. when through the deep waters i cause you to go, the rivers of sorrow shall not you o'erflow; for i will be with you, your troubles to bless, and sanctify to you your deepest distress. when through fiery trials your pathway shall lie, my grace, all-sufficient, shall be your supply; the flame shall not hurt you; i only design your dross to consume, and your gold to refine. e'en down to old age all my people shall prove my sovereign, eternal, unchangeable love; and when hoary hairs shall their temples adorn, like lambs they shall still in my bosom be borne. the soul that on jesus hath leaned for repose, i will not, i cannot desert to his foes; that soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, i'll never, no never, no never forsake. geo. keith, . safe in the arms of jesus. p.m. _hid with christ._ safe in the arms of jesus, safe on his gentle breast, there by his love o'ershaded, sweetly my soul shall rest. hark! 'tis the voice of angels, borne in a song to me, over the fields of glory, over the jasper sea. cho.--safe in the arms of jesus, safe on his gentle breast, there by his love o'ershaded, sweetly my soul shall rest. safe in the arms of jesus, safe from corroding care, safe from the world's temptations sin cannot harm me there. free from the blight of sorrow, free from my doubts and fears; only a few more trials, only a few more tears! jesus, my heart's dear refuge, jesus has died for me; firm on the rock of ages ever my trust shall be. here let me wait with patience, wait till the night is o'er; wait till i see the morning break on the golden shore. fanny j. crosby. he leadeth me. l.m. _divine guidance_ he leadeth me! oh! blessed tho't, oh! words with heav'nly comfort fraught; whate'er i do, where'er i be, still 'tis god's hand that leadeth me. ref.--he leadeth me! he leadeth me! by his own hand he leadeth me; his faithful follower i would be, for by his hand he leadeth me. sometimes 'mid scenes of deepest gloom, sometimes where eden's bowers bloom, by waters still, o'er troubled sea-- still 'tis his hand that leadeth me. lord, i would clasp thy hand in mine. nor ever murmur or repine-- content, whatever lot i see, since 'tis my god that leadeth me. and when my task on earth is done, when by thy grace, the vict'ry's won, e'en death's cold wave i will not flee, since god thro' jordan leadeth me. rev. jos. h. gilmore, . jewett. s. d. _mark : ._ ( ) my jesus, as thou wilt-- o may thy will be mine! into thy hand of love i would my all resign; through sorrow, or through joy, conduct me as thine own, and help me still to say, my lord, thy will be done! my jesus, as thou wilt-- if needy here and poor, give me thy people's bread, their portion rich and sure; the manna of thy word, let my soul feed upon, and, if all else should fail, my lord, thy will be done! my jesus, as thou wilt-- if among thorns i go, still sometimes here and there let a few roses blow. but thou, on earth, along the thorny path hast gone: then lead me after thee; my lord, thy will be done! benjamin schmolke. tr. by jane borthwick, . trusting in the promise. p.m. _the promise secure._ i have found repose for my weary soul, trusting in the promise of the savior; and a harbor safe when the billows roll, trusting in the promise of the savior. i will fear no foe in the deadly strife, trusting in the promise of the savior; i will bear my lot in the toil of life, trusting in the promise of the savior. ref.--resting on his mighty arm forever, never from his loving heart to sever, i will rest by grace in his strong embrace, trusting in the promise of the savior. i will sing my song as the days go by, trusting in the promise of the savior; and rejoice in hope, while i live or die, trusting in the promise of the savior. i can smile at grief and abide in pain, trusting in the promise of the savior; and the loss of all shall be highest gain, trusting in the promise of the savior. oh, the peace and joy of the life i live, trusting in the promise of the savior; oh, the strength and grace only god can give, trusting in the promise of the savior. whosoever will may be saved to-day, trusting in the promise of the savior; and begin to walk in the holy way, trusting in the promise of the savior. rev. h.b. hartzler. come, ye disconsolate. s. & s. _consolation offered._ ( ) come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish; come to the mercy-seat, fervently kneel; here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish; earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal! joy of the desolate, light of the straying, hope when all others die, fadeless and pure-- here speaks the comforter, in god's name saying, earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot cure. here see the bread of life; see waters flowing forth from the throne of god, boundless in love; come to the feast prepared, come, ever knowing earth has no sorrow but heaven can remove. vs. , , by thomas moore, . vs. by thos. hastings. follow on! p.m. _following christ._ down in the valley with my savior i would go, where the flowers are blooming and the sweet waters flow; ev'rywhere he leads me i would follow, follow on, walking in his footsteps till the crown be won. ref.--follow! follow! i would follow jesus! anywhere, everywhere i would follow on! follow! follow! i would follow jesus! ev'rywhere he leads me i will follow on! down in the valley with my savior i would go, where the storms are sweeping and the dark waters flow; with his hand to lead me i will never, never fear, dangers cannot frighten me if my lord is near. down in the valley, or upon the mountain steep, close beside my savior would my soul ever keep; he will lead me safely, in the path that he has trod, up to where they gather on the hills of god. w.o. cushing. trusting jesus. s. _undoubting trust._ simply trusting ev'ry day, trusting thro' a stormy way; even when my faith is small, trusting jesus, that is all. cho.--trusting as the moments fly, trusting as the days go by; trusting him whate'er befall, trusting jesus, that is all. brightly doth his spirit shine into this poor heart of mine; while he leads i cannot fall, trusting jesus, that is all. singing if my way is clear; praying if the path is drear; if in danger for him call; trusting jesus, that is all. trusting him while life shall last, trusting him till earth is past; till within the jasper wall, trusting jesus, that is all. e.p. stites. a shelter in the time of storm. l.m. _divine refuge._ the lord's our rock, in him we hide, a shelter in the time of storm; secure whatever ill betide, a shelter in the time of storm. cho.--oh, jesus is a rock in a weary land, a weary land, a weary land, oh, jesus is a rock in a weary land, a shelter in the time of storm. a shade by day, defense by night, a shelter in the time of storm; no foes alarm, no fears affright, a shelter in the time of storm. the raging storms may round us beat, a shelter in the time of storm; we'll never leave our safe retreat, a shelter in the time of storm. o rock divine, o refuge dear, a shelter in the time of storm; be thou our helper, ever near, a shelter in the time of storm. anon, arranged. under his wings. s. _psalm ._ in god i have found a retreat, where i can securely abide; no refuge nor rest so complete; and here i intend to reside. cho.--oh, what comfort it brings, as my soul sweetly sings, i am safe from all danger while under his wings. i dread not the terror by night, no arrow can harm me by day; his shadow has covered me quite, my fears he has driven away. the pestilence walking about, when darkness has settled abroad, can never compel me to doubt the presence and power of god. the wasting destruction at noon no fearful foreboding can bring; with jesus my soul doth commune, his perfect salvation i sing. a thousand may fall at my side, and ten thousand at my right hand; above me his wings are spread wide, beneath them in safety i stand. james nicholson. he knows it all. s & s. _divine sympathy._ he knows the bitter, weary way, the endless striving day by day, the souls that weep, the souls that pray-- he knows it all. ref.--he knows it all, the bitter, weary way; o souls that weep, o souls that pray, he knows it all. he knows how hard the fight has been, the clouds that come our lives between, the wounds the world has never seen-- he knows it all. he knows, when, faint and worn, we sink, how deep the pain, how near the brink of dark despair we pause and shrink-- he knows it all. he knows! oh, thought so full of bliss! for though on earth our joys we miss. we still can bear it, feeling this-- he knows it all. unknown. cast thy burden on the lord. cast thy burden on the lord, and he will sustain thee, and strengthen thee, and comfort thee; he will sustain thee, and comfort thee; he will sustain thee, he will comfort thee; cast thy burden on the lord! lux benigna. s. & s. _lead thou me on._ lead, kindly light, amid th' encircling gloom, lead thou me on, the night is dark, and i am far from home, lead thou me on; keep thou my feet; i do not ask to see the distant scene; one step enough for me. i was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou shouldst lead me on; i loved to choose and see my path, but now lead thou me on; i loved the garish day, and spite of fears, pride ruled my will. remember not past years. so long thy pow'r has blessed me, sure it still will lead me on; o'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till the night is gone; and with the morn those angel faces smile which i have loved long since, and lost awhile. cardinal j.h. newman joy cometh in the morning. p.m. _joy after weeping._ oh, weary pilgrim, lift your head, for joy cometh in the morning; for god, in his own word, hath said that joy cometh in the morning. cho.--joy cometh in the morning, joy cometh in the morning; weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. ye trembling saints, dismiss your fears, for joy cometh in the morning; oh, weeping mourner, dry your tears, for joy cometh in the morning. let ev'ry burdened soul look up, for joy cometh in the morning; and ev'ry trembling sinner hope, for joy cometh in the morning. our god shall wipe all tears away, for joy cometh in the morning; sorrow and sighing flee away, for joy cometh in the morning. m.m. weinland. landis. s.m. _god's tenderness in our grief._ ( ) how tender is thy hand, oh, thou beloved lord! afflictions come at thy command, and leave us at thy word. how gentle was the rod that chastened us for sin! how soon we found a smiling god, where deep distress had been! a father's hand we felt, a father's heart we knew; with tears of penitence we knelt, and found his word was true. we told him all our grief, we thought of jesus' love; a sense of pardon brought relief, and bade our pains remove. thomas hastings. retreat. l.m. _the mercy-seat._ ( ) from every stormy wind that blows, from every swelling tide of woes, there is a calm, a sure retreat;-- 'tis found before the mercy-seat. there is a place where jesus sheds the oil of gladness on our heads,-- a place, than all besides, more sweet; it is the blood-bought mercy-seat. there is a spot where spirits blend, where friend holds fellowship with friend; though sundered far, by faith they meet around one common mercy-seat. there, there, on eagle's wings we soar, and time, and sense seem all no more; and heaven comes down our souls to greet, and glory crowns the mercy-seat! oh! may my hand forget her skill, my tongue be silent, cold, and still, this bounding heart forget to beat, if i forget the mercy-seat! hugh stowell, . retreat. l.m. _design of prayer._ ( ) prayer is appointed to convey the blessings god designs to give: long as they live should christians pray; they learn to pray when first they live. if pain afflict or wrongs oppress; if cares distract, or fears dismay; if guilt deject; if sin distress; in every case, still watch and pray. 'tis prayer supports the soul that's weak, tho' thought be broken, language lame, pray, if thou canst or canst not speak, but pray with faith in jesus' name. depend on him, thou canst not fail; make all thy wants and wishes known; fear not, his merits must prevail, ask but in faith, it shall be done. joseph hart. _d._ retreat. l.m. _psalm : ._ ( ) my god, is any hour so sweet from blush of morn to evening star, as that which calls me to thy feet, the calm and holy hour of prayer? blest is the tranquil break of morn, and blest the hush of solemn eve, when on the wings of prayer up-borne, this fair, but transient, world i leave. then is my strength by thee renewed; then are my sins by thee forgiven; then dost thou cheer my solitude, with clear and beauteous hopes of heaven. no words can tell what sweet relief, there for my every want i find; what strength for warfare, balm for grief, what deep and cheerful peace of mind. lord, till i reach the blissful shore, no privilege so dear shall be, as thus my inmost soul to pour in faithful, filial prayer to thee! charlotte elliott, . sweet hour of prayer. l.m.d. _blessedness of prayer._ ( ) sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer! that calls me from a world of care, and bids me at my father's throne make all my wants and wishes known: in seasons of distress and grief, my soul has often found relief; and oft escaped the tempter's snare, by thy return, sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer! thy wings shall my petition bear to him whose truth and faithfulness engage the waiting soul to bless. and since he bids he seek his face, believe his word, and trust his grace, i'll cast on him my ev'ry care and wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer! may i thy consolation share, till, from mount pisgah's lofty height, i view my home and take my flight: this robe of flesh i'll drop and rise to seize the everlasting prize; and shout, while passing thro' the air, farewell, farewell, sweet hour of prayer! rev. w.w. walford, . brown. c.m. _secret prayer._ ( ) i love to steal awhile away from ev'ry cumb'ring care, and spend the hours of setting day in humble, grateful prayer. i love in solitude to shed the penitential tear, and all his promises to plead, where none but god can hear. i love to think on mercies past, and future good implore, and all my cares and sorrows cast on him whom i adore. i love by faith to take a view of brighter scenes in heaven; the prospect doth my strength renew, while here by tempests driven. thus, when life's toilsome day is o'er, may its departing ray be calm as this impressive hour, and lead to endless day! mrs. phoebe h. brown, . brown. c.m. _graces sought in prayer._ ( ) lord! teach us how to pray aright, with reverence and with fear; though dust and ashes in thy sight, we may, we must draw near. god of all grace, we come to thee, with broken, contrite hearts, give, what thine eye delights to see, truth in the inward parts; patience, to watch, and wait, and weep, though mercy long delay; courage, our fainting souls to keep, and trust thee though thou slay. give these, and then--thy will be done-- thus strengthened with all might, we by the spirit and thy son, shall pray, and pray aright. james montgomery, . brown. c.m. _mark : ._ ( ) the savior bids thee watch and pray through life's momentous hour; and grants the spirit's quickening ray to those who seek his power. the savior bids thee watch and pray, maintain a warrior's strife; oh, christian! hear his voice to-day; obedience is thy life. the savior bids thee watch and pray, for soon the hour will come that calls thee from the earth away to thy eternal home. the savior bids thee watch and pray oh, hearken to his voice, and follow where he leads the way, to heaven's eternal joys. t. hastings. devizes. c.m. _prayer._ ( ) prayer is the soul's sincere desire, uttered or unexpressed; the motion of a hidden fire, that trembles in the breast. prayer is the burden of a sigh, the falling of a tear, the upward glancing of an eye, when none but god is near. prayer is the simplest form of speech, that infant lips can try; prayer, the sublimest strains that reach the majesty on high. prayer is the christian's vital breath, the christian's native air: his watchword at the gates of death; he enters heaven with prayer. oh, thou, by whom we come to god,-- the life, the truth, the way! the path of prayer thyself hast trod; lord! teach us how to pray. james montgomery, . marlow. c.m. _a throne of grace._ ( ) a throne of grace! then let us go and offer up our prayer; a gracious god will mercy show to all that worship there. a throne of grace! oh, at that throne our knees have often bent, and god has showered his blessings down as often as we went. a throne of grace! rejoice, ye saints! that throne is open still; to god unbosom your complaints, and then inquire his will. corbin. notting hill. c.m. _communion in prayer._ ( ) talk with us, lord, thyself reveal, while here o'er earth we rove; speak to our hearts, and let us feel the kindling of thy love. with thee conversing, we forget all time, and toil, and care: labor is rest, and pain is sweet, if thou, my god! art here. here, then, my god, vouchsafe to stay, and bid my heart rejoice: my bounding heart shall own thy sway, and echo to thy voice. thou callest me to seek thy face-- 'tis all i wish to seek; t' attend the whisperings of thy grace, and hear thee only speak. charles wesley, . aletta. s. _at the throne._ ( ) come, my soul! thy suit prepare; jesus loves to answer prayer; he himself has bid thee pray, therefore will not say thee nay. thou art coming to a king, large petitions with thee bring; for his grace and power are such, none can ever ask too much. lord! i come to thee for rest, take possession of my breast; there thy blood-bought right maintain, and without a rival reign. while i am a pilgrim here, let thy love my spirit cheer; as my guide, my guard, my friend, lead me to my journey's end. john newton, . what a friend we have in jesus. s & s. d. _the privilege of prayer._ what a friend we have in jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear; what a privilege to carry ev'rything to god in prayer! o what peace we often forfeit, o what needless pain we bear, all because we do not carry ev'rything to god in prayer! have we trials and temptations? is there trouble anywhere? we should never be discouraged, take it to the lord in prayer. can we find a friend so faithful, who will all our sorrows share? jesus knows our ev'ry weakness, take it to the lord in prayer! are we weak and heavy laden, cumbered with a load of care?-- precious savior, still our refuge,-- take it to the lord in prayer. do thy friends despise, forsake thee? take it to the lord in prayer; in his firms he'll take and shield thee, thou wilt find a solace there. unknown. the lord's prayer. _chant._ our father who art in heaven, | hallowed | be thy | name, || thy kingdom come; thy will be done in | earth, as it | is in | heaven, give us this | day our | daily bread, || and forgive us our debts, as | we for- | give our | debtors. lead us not into temptation, but de- | liver | us from | evil; || for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for | ever. | a- | men. thatcher. s.m. _i. tim. : ._ ( ) come at the morning hour, come, let us kneel and pray; pray'r is the christian pilgrim's staff to walk with god all day. at noon beneath the rock of ages, rest and pray; sweet is that shelter from the sun in weary heat of day. at evening, in thy home, around its altar, pray; and finding there the house of god, with heaven then close the day. when midnight veils our eyes, oh, it is sweet to say, i sleep, but my heart waketh, lord! with thee to watch and pray. anon. capello. s.m. _the throne of grace._ ( ) behold the throne of grace! the promise calls me near; there jesus shows a smiling face, and waits to answer prayer. that rich atoning blood, which sprinkled round i see, provides, for those who come to god, an all-prevailing plea. my soul! ask what thou wilt; thou canst not be too bold; since his own blood for thee he spilt, what else can he withhold? thine, image, lord! bestow, thy presence and thy love; i ask to serve thee here below, and reign with thee above. teach me to live by faith; conform my will to thine; let me victorious be in death, and then in glory shine. john newton, . tell it to jesus alone. p.m. _the sympathizing friend._ are you weary, are you heavy-hearted? tell it to jesus. are you grieving over joys departed? tell it to jesus alone. cho.--tell it to jesus, tell it to jesus, he is a friend that's well known; you have no other such a friend or brother! tell it to jesus alone. do the tears flow down your cheeks unbidden? tell it to jesus. have you sins that to man's eye are hidden? tell it to jesus alone. do you fear the gath'ring clouds of sorrow? tell it to jesus. are you anxious what shall be to-morrow? tell it to jesus alone. are you troubled at the tho't of dying? tell it to jesus. for christ's coming kingdom are you sighing? tell it to jesus alone. j. e. rankin, d. d. maitland. c.m. _the cross and the crown._ ( ) must jesus bear the cross alone, and all the world go free? no, there's a cross for every one, and there's a cross for me. how happy are the saints above, who once went mourning here! but now they taste unmingled love, and joy without a tear. this consecrated cross i'll bear, till death shall set me free, and then go home my crown to wear, for there's a crown for me. upon the crystal pavement, down at jesus' pierced feet, joyful, i'll cast my golden crown, and his dear name repeat. and palms shall wave, and harps shall ring beneath heaven's arches high; the lord, that lives, the ransomed sing, that lives no more to die. oh! precious cross! oh! glorious crown! oh! resurrection day! ye angels! from the skies come down, and bear my soul away. v. . thomas shepherd, . vs. - , g. n. allen, , _a._ maitland. c.m. _the christian race._ ( ) awake, my soul--stretch every nerve, and press with vigor on; a heavenly race demands thy zeal, a bright, immortal crown. 'tis god's all-animating voice that calls thee from on high: 'tis his own hand presents the prize to thine aspiring eye. a cloud of witnesses around, hold thee in full survey: forget the steps already trod, and onward urge thy way. blest savior, introduced by thee have we our race begun; and, crowned with vict'ry, at thy feet we'll lay our laurels down. p. doddridge, . maitland. c.m. _christian charity._ ( ) blest is the man, whose softening heart feels all another's pain; to whom the supplicating eye was never raised in vain;-- whose breast expands with generous warmth, a stranger's woes to feel, and bleeds in pity o'er the wound he wants the power to heal. he spreads his kind supporting arms to every child of grief; hie secret bounty largely flows, and brings unasked relief. to gentle offices of love, his feet are never slow; he views, through mercy's melting eye, a brother in a foe. mrs. anna l. barbauld, . boylston. s.m. _the christian's life-work._ ( ) a charge to keep i have, a god to glorify; a never-dying-soul to save, and fit it for the sky:--- to serve the present age, my calling to fulfill,-- oh! may it all my powers engage-- to do my master's will. arm me with jealous care, as in thy sight to live; and, oh, thy servant, lord! prepare a strict account to give. help me to watch and pray, and on thyself rely; assured, if i my trust betray, i shall forever die. charles wesley, . boylston. s.m. _sowing and reaping._ ( ) sow in the morn thy seed, at eve hold not thy hand; to doubt and fear give thou no heed; broad-cast it o'er the land. and duly shall appear, in verdure, beauty, strength, the tender blade, the stalk, the ear, and the full corn at length. thou canst not toil in vain; cold, heat, and moist, and dry, shall foster and mature the grain, for garners in the sky. thence, when the glorious end, the day of god, shall come, the angel-reapers shall descend, and heaven cry "harvest-home!" james montgomery, . boylston. s.m. _doing good._ ( ) we give thee but thine own, whate'er the gift may be: all that we have is thine alone, a trust, o lord! from thee. o, hearts are bruised and dead, and homes are bare and cold, and lambs, for whom the shepherd bled, are straying from the fold. to comfort and to bless, to find a balm for woe, to tend the lone and fatherless is angels' work below. the captive to release, to god the lost to bring, to teach the way of life and peace, it is a christ-like thing. and we believe thy word, though dim our faith may be: whate'er for thine we do, o lord, we do it unto thee. william walsham how, . triumph. l.m. _the useful life._ ( ) go, labor on; spend, and be spent,-- thy joy to do the father's will; it is the way the master went; should not the servant tread it still? go, labor on; 'tis not for naught; thine earthly loss is heavenly gain; men heed thee, love thee, praise thee not, the master praises;--what are men? go, labor on; enough, while here, if he shall praise thee, if he deign thy willing heart to mark and cheer, no toil for him shall be in vain. toil on, and in thy toil rejoice; for toil comes rest, for exile home; soon shalt thou hear the bridegroom's voice, the midnight peal,--"behold! i come!" horatius bonar, . just as i am. l.m. _consistency.--titus : - ._ ( ) so let our lips and lives express the holy gospel we profess; so let our works and virtues shine to prove the doctrine all divine. thus shall we best proclaim abroad the honors of our savior god; when his salvation reigns within, and grace subdues the power of sin. religion bears our spirits up, while we expect that blessed hope,-- the bright appearance of the lord; and faith stands leaning on his word. isaac watts, . essex. s & s. _the responsibilities of the age._ we are living, we are dwelling, in a grand and awful time, in an age on ages telling; to be living is sublime. hark the onset! will ye fold your faith-clad arms in lazy lock? up! o up! thou drowsy soldier; worlds are charging to the shock. worlds are charging, heav'n beholding; thou hast but an hour to fight; now, the blazoned cross unfolding, on! right onward for the right. on! let all the soul within you for the truth's sake go abroad; strike! let ev'ry nerve and sinew tell on ages--tell for god. bp. arthur cleveland coxe, . triumph. l.m. _zeal.--john : ._ ( ) go, labor on, while it is day; the world's dark night is hastening on; speed, speed thy work,--cast sloth away! it is not thus that souls are won. men die in darkness at your side, without a hope to cheer the tomb; take up the torch and wave it wide-- the torch that lights time's thickest gloom. toil on, faint not;--keep watch and pray! be wise the erring soul to win; go forth into the world's highway; compel the wanderer to come in. go, labor on; your hands are weak; your knees are faint, your soul cast down; yet falter not; the prize you seek is near,--a kingdom and a crown! h. bonar, . triumph. l.m. _psalm ._ ( ) blest is the man whose heart doth move, and melt with pity to the poor; whose soul, by sympathizing love, feels what his fellow-saints endure. his heart contrives, for their relief, more good than his own hands can do; he, in the time of general grief, shall find the lord has pity too. his soul shall live secure on earth, with secret blessings on his head, when drought, and pestilence, and dearth around him multiply their dead. or, if he languish on his couch, god will pronounce his sins forgiven, will save him with a healing touch, or take his willing soul to heaven. isaac watts. . rescue the perishing. p.m. _seeking the lost._ rescue the perishing, care for the dying, snatch them in pity from sin and the grave; weep o'er the erring one, lift up the fallen, tell them of jesus, the mighty to save. cho.--rescue the perishing, care for the dying; jesus is merciful, jesus will save. tho' they are slighting him, still he is waiting, waiting the penitent child to receive. plead with them earnestly, plead with them gently, he will forgive if they only believe. down in the human heart, crushed by the tempter, feelings lie buried which grace can restore. touched by a loving heart, wakened by kindness, cords that were broken will vibrate once more. rescue the perishing, duty demands it; strength for thy labor the lord will provide. back to the narrow way patiently win them; tell the poor wand'rer a savior has died. fanny j. crosby. while the days are going by. p.m. _daily opportunity._ there are lonely hearts to cherish, while the days are going by; there are weary souls who perish, while the days are going by; if a smile we can renew, as our journey we pursue, oh, the good we all may do, while the days are going by. ref.--going by, going by, going by, going by, oh, the good we all may do, while the days are going by. there's no time for idle scorning, while the days are going by; let your face be like the morning, while the days are going by; oh, the world is full of sighs, full of sad and weeping eyes; help your fallen brother rise, while the days are going by. all the loving links that bind us, while the days are going by; one by one we leave behind us, while the days are going by; but the seeds of good we sow both in shade and shine will grow, and will keep our hearts aglow, while the days are going by. george cooper. i want to be a worker. p.m. _delight in god's work._ i want to be a worker for the lord, i want to love and trust his holy word; i want to sing and pray, and be busy ev'ry day in the vineyard of the lord. cho.--i will work, i will pray, in the vineyard, in the vineyard of the lord; i will work, i will pray, i will labor ev'ry day in the vineyard of the lord. i want to be a worker ev'ry day, i want to lead the erring in the way that leads to heav'n above, where all is peace and love, in the kingdom of the lord. i want to be a worker strong and brave, i want to trust in jesus' power to save; all who will truly come, shall find a happy home in the kingdom of the lord. i want to be a worker; help me, lord, to lead the lost and erring to thy word that points to joys on high, where pleasures never die, in the kingdom of the lord. isaiah baltzell. seeds of promise. c.m. _seedtime and harvest._ oh, scatter seeds of loving deeds, along the fertile field, for grain will grow from what you sow, and fruitful harvest yield. cho--then day by day along your way, the seeds of promise cast, that ripened grain from hill and plain, be gathered home at last. tho' sown in tears the weary years, the seed will surely live; tho' great the cost it is not lost, for god will fruitage give. the harvest home of god will come; and after toil and care, with joy untold your sheaves of gold will all be garnered there. jessie h. brown. we're marching to zion. s.m. _the christian journey._ come, we that love the lord, and let our joys be known, join in a song with sweet accord, and thus surround the throne. cho.--we're marching to zion, beautiful, beautiful zion, we're marching upward to zion, the beautiful city of god. let those refuse to sing who never knew our god; but children of the heavenly king may speak their joys abroad. the hill of zion yields a thousand sacred sweets, before we reach the heavenly fields, or walk the golden streets. then let our songs abound, and ev'ry tear be dry; we're marching thro' immanuel's ground to fairer worlds on high. isaac watts, . work, for the night is coming. p.m. _work while it is day._ work, for the night is coming, work thro' the morning hours; work while the dew is sparkling, work 'mid springing flowers; work, when the day grows brighter, work in the glowing sun; work, for the night is coming, when man's work is done. work, for the night is coming, work thro' the sunny noon; fill brightest hours with labor, rest comes sure and soon; give ev'ry flying minute, something to keep in store; work, for the night is coming, when man works no more. work, for the night is coming, under the sunset skies; while their bright tints are glowing, work, for daylight flies; work till the last beam fadeth, fadeth to shine no more; work while the night is dark'ning, when man's work is o'er. annie l. walker. bringing in the sheaves. p.m. _spiritual harvest._ sowing in the morning, sowing seeds of kindness, sowing in the noontide and the dewy eve; waiting for the harvest, and the time of reaping, we shall come, rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves. cho.--bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves, we shall come, rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves; bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves, we shall come, rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves. sowing in the sunshine, sowing in the shadows, fearing neither clouds nor winter's chilling breeze; by and by the harvest and the labor ended, we shall come, rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves. going forth with weeping, sowing for the master, though the loss sustained our spirit often grieves; when our weeping's over, he will bid us welcome; we shall come, rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves. knowles shaw. crown after cross. p.m. _tears and joy._ light after darkness, gain after loss, strength after weariness, crown after cross, sweet after bitter, song after sigh, home after wandering, praise after cry. cho.--now comes the weeping, then the glad reaping; now comes the labor hard, then the reward. sheaves after sowing, sun after rain, sight after mystery, peace after pain, joy after sorrow, calm after blast, rest after weariness, sweet rest at last. near after distant, gleam after gloom, love after loneliness, life after tomb. after long agony, rapture of bliss; right was the pathway leading to this. frances r. havergal. i love to tell the story. s. & s. d. _the old, old story._ i love to tell the story of unseen things above, of jesus and his glory, of jesus and his love! i love to tell the story, because i know it's true; it satisfies my longings, as nothing else would do. cho.--i love to tell the story! 'twill be my theme in glory, to tell the old, old story of jesus and his love. i love to tell the story! more wonderful it seems, than all the golden fancies of all our golden dreams. i love to tell the story! it did so much for me! and that is just the reason, i tell it now to thee. i love to tell the story! 'tis pleasant to repeat what seems, each time, i tell it, more wonderfully sweet. i love to tell the story! for some have never heard the message of salvation from god's own holy word. i love to tell the story! for those who know it best seem hungering and thirsting to hear it like the rest. and when, in scenes of glory, i sing the new, new song, 'twill be--the old, old story that i have loved so long. miss kate hankey, . only a word. p.m. _speaking for christ._ only a word for jesus, spoken in fear with sense of need; yet, with the master's blessing, thousands that word may feed. cho.--give me a word for thee, master! give me a word for thee! to speak thy praise, some soul to raise, oh, give me a word for thee. only a word for jesus, gentle and low with falt'ring breath; yet, with the spirit's thrilling, winning a soul from death. only a word for jesus, only a wav'ring soul to hear; yet, thro' increasing ages, widen its help and cheer. only a word for jesus, feeble the love and praise appear: angels their songs are ceasing, glad this new note to hear. e. s. lorenz. is your lamp still burning? p.m. _waiting his coming._ are you christ's light bearer? of his joy a sharer? is this dark world fairer for your cheering ray? is your beacon lighted, guiding souls benighted to the land of perfect day? cho.--oh, brother, is your lamp trimmed and burning? is the world made brighter by its cheering ray? are you ever waiting for your lord's returning? are you watching day by day? is your heart warm glowing, with his love o'erflowing, and his goodness showing more and more each day? are you pressing onward, with christ's faithful vanguard, in the safe and narrow way? keep your altars burning, wait your lord's returning, while your heart's deep yearning draws him ever near; with his radiance splendid shall your light be blended when his glory shall appear? priscilla j. owens. will jesus find us watching? p.m. _faithfulness._ when jesus comes to reward his servants, whether it be noon or night, faithful to him will he find us watching, with our lamps all trimmed and bright? ref.--oh, can we say we are ready, brother? ready for the soul's bright home? say, will he find you and me still watching, waiting, waiting when the lord shall come? if at the dawn of the early morning, he shall call us one by one, when to the lord we restore our talents, will he answer thee--well done? have we been true to the trust he left us? do we seek to do our best? if in our hearts there is naught condemns us, we shall have a glorious rest. blessed are those whom the lord finds watching, in his glory they shall share; if he shall come at the dawn or midnight, will he find us watching there? fanny j. crosby. laban. s.m. _watchfulness and prayer._ ( ) my soul, be on thy guard, ten thousand foes arise: the hosts of sin are pressing hard to draw thee from the skies. oh, watch, and fight, and pray; the battle ne'er give o'er; renew it boldly every day, and help divine implore. ne'er think the vict'ry won nor lay thine armor down; thy arduous work will not be done till thou obtain thy crown. fight on, my soul, till death shall bring thee to thy god; he'll take thee, at thy parting breath, to his divine abode. george heath, . laban. s.m. _the panoply of god._ ( ) soldiers of christ! arise, and put your armor on,-- strong, in the strength which god supplies, through his eternal son:-- strong, in the lord of hosts, and in his mighty power; who in the strength of jesus trusts, is more than conqueror. stand, then, in his great might, with all his strength endued; and take, to arm you for the fight, the panoply of god:-- that, having all things done, and all your conflicts past, you may o'ercome through christ alone, and stand entire at last. from strength to strength go on; wrestle, and fight, and pray; tread all the powers of darkness down, and win the well-fought day. still let the spirit cry, in all his soldiers, "come," till christ, the lord, descends from high, and takes the conquerors home. charles wesley, . laban. s.m. _victory is on the lord's side._ ( ) arise, ye saints, arise! the lord our leader is: the foe before his banner flies, and victory is his. we soon shall see the day when all our toils shall cease; when we shall cast our arms away, and dwell in endless peace. this hope supports us here; it makes our burdens light: 'twill serve our drooping hearts to cheer, till faith shall end in sight:-- till, of the prize possessed, we hear of war no more; and ever with our leader rest, on yonder peaceful shore. thomas kelly, . maitland. c.m. _the sacrifices of warfare._ ( ) am i a soldier of the cross, a follower of the lamb? and shall i fear to own his cause, or blush to speak his name? must i be carried to the skies on flow'ry beds of ease, while others fought to win the prize, and sailed thro' bloody seas? are there no foes for me to face? must i not stem the flood? is this vile world a friend to grace, to help me on to god? sure i must fight if i would reign; increase my courage, lord; i'll bear the toil, endure the pain, supported by thy word. thy saints in all this glorious war, shall conquer, though they die; they see the triumph from afar, by faith they bring it nigh. when that illustrious day shall rise, and all thy armies shine in robes of vict'ry through the skies, the glory shall be thine. isaac watts, america. s & s. _christian soldiers._ ( ) soldiers of christ are we marching to victory, marching to heaven; in his bright armor dressed, his cross our chosen crest, and for our food and rest, his word is given. tho' foes our path surround, tho' toils and cares abound, onward we tread; we hear our lord's command; we grasp each shining brand, and, like a banner grand, hope waves o'erhead. soldiers of christ are we, light, love, and liberty our battle call! till truth shall win the day, till right shall gain the sway, till sin is driven away, we fight or fall. webb. s & s. ( ) stand up, stand up for jesus, ye soldiers of the cross! lift high his royal banner, it must not suffer loss; from victory unto victory his army shall he lead, till every foe is vanquished. and christ is lord indeed. stand up, stand up for jesus. the trumpet call obey; forth to the mighty conflict, in this his glorious day; ye that are men! now serve him, against unnumbered foes; your courage rise with danger, and strength to strength oppose. stand up, stand up for jesus, stand in his strength alone; the arm of flesh will fail you; ye dare not trust your own; put on the gospel armor, and, watching unto prayer, where duty calls, or danger, be never wanting there. stand up, stand up for jesus: the strife will not be long; this day, the noise of battle,-- the next, the victor's song; to him that overcometh, a crown of life shall be; he, with the king of glory, shall reign eternally! george duffield, . webb. s & s. _psalm ._ ( ) god is my strong salvation; what foe have i to fear? in darkness and temptation, my light, my help is near: though hosts encamp around me, firm to the fight i stand; what terror can confound me, with god at my right hand? place on the lord reliance; my soul! with courage wait; his truth be thine affiance, when faint and desolate; his might thy heart shall strengthen, his love thy joy increase; mercy thy days shall lengthen; the lord will give thee peace. james montgomery, . yield not to temptation. p.m. _courage._ yield not to temptation, for yielding is sin; each vict'ry will help you some other to win. fight manfully onward, dark passions subdue; look ever to jesus, he'll carry you through. cho.--ask the savior to help you, comfort, strengthen, and keep you; he is willing to aid you, he will carry you through. shun evil companions, bad language disdain, god's name hold in rev'rence, nor take it in vain; be thoughtful and earnest, kind-hearted and true; look ever to jesus, he'll carry you through. to him that o'ercometh, god giveth a crown; through faith we shall conquer, though often cast down; he who is our savior our strength will renew; look ever to jesus, he'll carry you through. h.r. palmer. st. martin's. c.m. _founded on a rock._ ( ) with stately towers and bulwarks strong, unrivaled and alone, loved theme of many a sacred song; god's holy city shone. thus fair was zion's chosen seat, the glory of all lands; yet fairer and in strength complete, the christian temple stands. the faithful of each clime and age this glorious church compose; built on a rock, with idle rage the threat'ning tempest blows. fear not; though hostile bands alarm, thy god is thy defense; and weak and powerless every arm against omnipotence. isaac watts. st. martin's. c.m. _the church immovable._ ( ) oh! where are kings and empires now, of old that went and came? but, lord! thy church is praying yet, a thousand years the same. we mark her goodly battlements, and her foundations strong; we hear within the solemn voice of her unending song. for, not like kingdoms of the world, thy holy church, o god! though earthquake shocks are threatening her, and tempests are abroad; unshaken as eternal hills, immovable she stands, a mountain that shall fill the earth, a house not made by hands. arthur cleveland coxe, , _a._ st. martin's. c.m. _returning to zion._ ( ) daughter of zion, from the dust exalt thy fallen head; again in thy redeemer trust-- he calls thee from the dead. awake, awake, put on thy strength, thy beautiful array; the day of freedom dawns at length-- the lord's appointed day. rebuild thy walls, thy bounds enlarge, and send thy heralds forth; say to the south, give up thy charge! and, keep not back, o north! they come, they come; thine exiled bands, where'er they rest or roam, have heard thy voice in distant lands, and hasten to their home. james montgomery, . st. martin's. c.m. _little flock._ church of the ever-living god, the father's gracious choice, amid the voices of this earth how feeble is thy voice! not many rich or noble called, not many great or wise: they whom god makes his kings and priests are poor in human eyes. but the chief shepherd comes at length; their feeble days are o'er, no more a handful in the earth, a little flock no more. h. bonar, _ab._ laban. s.m. _psalm ._ ( ) i love thy kingdom, lord! the house of thine abode, the church our blest redeemer saved, with his own precious blood. i love thy church, o god! her walls before thee stand, dear as the apple of thine eye, and graven on thy hand. for her my tears shall fall, for her my prayers ascend; to her my cares and toils be given, till toils and cares shall end. beyond my highest joy i prize her heavenly ways, her sweet communion, solemn vows, her hymns of love and praise. sure as thy truth shall last, to zion shall be given the brightest glories earth can yield, and brighter bliss of heaven. timothy dwight, . state street. s.m. _a revival sought._ ( ) revive thy work, o lord! thy mighty arm make bare; speak, with the voice that wakes the dead, and make thy people hear. revive thy work, o lord! disturb this sleep of death; quicken the smoldering embers now, by thine almighty breath. revive thy work, o lord! exalt thy precious name; and, by the holy ghost, our love for thee and thine inflame. revive thy work, o lord! and give refreshing showers; the glory shall be all thine own, the blessing, lord! be ours. albert midlane, . ware. l.m. _christ's everlasting kingdom._ ( ) jesus shall reign where'er the sun does his successive journeys run; his kingdom spread from shore to shore, till moons shall wax and wane no more. from north to south the princes meet, to pay their homage at his feet; while western empires own their lord, and savage tribes attend his word. to him shall endless prayer be made, and endless praises crown his head; his name, like sweet perfume, shall rise, with every morning sacrifice. people and realms of every tongue dwell on his love with sweetest song, and infant voices shall proclaim their early blessings on his name. blessings abound where'er he reigns; the prisoner leaps to lose his chains; the weary find eternal rest, and all the sons of want are blest. let every creature rise and bring peculiar honors to our king; angels descend with songs again, and earth repeat the loud amen! isaac watts, . ware. l.m. _the glory of the church._ ( ) triumphant zion! lift thy head from dust, and darkness, and the dead; though humbled long, awake at length, and gird thee with thy savior's strength. put all thy beauteous garments on, and let thy various charms be known; the world thy glories shall confess, decked in the robes of righteousness. no more shall foes unclean invade, and fill thy hallowed walls with dread; no more shall hell's insulting host their vict'ry and thy sorrows boast. god, from on high, thy groans will hear; his hand thy ruins shall repair; nor will thy watchful monarch cease to guard thee in eternal peace. philip doddridge, . ware. l.m. _rev. : ._ ( ) soon may the last glad song arise through all the millions of the skies-- that song of triumph which records that all the earth is now the lord's! let thrones and powers and kingdoms be obedient, mighty god, to thee! and, over land and stream and main, wave thou the scepter of thy reign! oh, let that glorious anthem swell, let host to host the triumph tell, that not one rebel heart remains, but over all the savior reigns! mrs. voke, . zion. s, s, & s. _her enemies confounded._ ( ) zion stands with hills surrounded, zion kept by power divine! all her foes shall be confounded, tho' the world in arms combine. happy zion, what a favored lot is thine! ev'ry human tie may perish, friend to friend unfaithful prove, mothers cease their own to cherish, heaven and earth at last remove; but no changes can attend jehovah's love. in the furnace god may prove thee, thence to bring thee forth more bright, but can never cease to love thee-- thou art precious in his sight: god is with thee-- god, thine everlasting light. thomas kelly, zion. s, s, & s. _the gospel herald._ ( ) on the mountain's top appearing, lo! the sacred herald stands, welcome news to zion bearing-- zion long in hostile lands: mourning captive! god himself shall loose thy bands. has thy night been long and mournful? have thy friends unfaithful proved? have thy foes been proud and scornful? by thy sighs and tears unmoved? cease thy mourning; zion still is well beloved. god, thy god, will now restore thee; he himself appears thy friend; all thy foes shall flee before thee; here their boasts and triumph end; great deliverance zion's king will surely send. thomas kelly, zion. s, s, & s. _prayer for a revival._ ( ) savior, visit thy plantation; grant us, lord, a gracious rain; all will come to desolation, unless thou return again. lord, revive us! all our help must come from thee. keep no longer at a distance; shine upon us from on high, lest, for want of thine assistance, every plant should droop and die. lord, revive us! all our help must come from thee. let our mutual love be fervent! make us prevalent in prayers; let each one, esteemed thy servant, shun the world's bewitching snares. lord, revive us! all our help must come from thee. break the tempter's fatal power, turn the stony heart to flesh, and begin, from this good hour, to revive thy work afresh. lord, revive us! all our help must come from thee. john newton, austria. s, s. d. _the glory of the church._ ( ) glorious things of thee are spoken, zion, city of our god! he, whose word cannot be broken, formed thee for his own abode; on the rock of ages founded, what can shake thy sure repose? with salvation's walls surrounded, thou mayest smile at all thy foes. see! the streams of living waters, springing from eternal love, well supply thy sons and daughters, and all fear of want remove; who can faint, while such a river, ever flows their thirst t' assuage?-- grace, which, like the lord, the giver, never fails from age to age. round each habitation hovering, see the cloud and tire appear, for a glory and a covering, showing that the lord is near! thus deriving from their banner, light by night, and shade by day, safe they feed upon the manna which he gives them when they pray. john newton, . austria. s, s. d. _isa. : ._ zion, dreary and in anguish, 'mid the desert hast thou strayed! oh, thou weary, cease to languish; jesus shall lift up thy head. still lamenting and bemoaning, 'mid thy follies and thy woes! soon repenting and returning, all thy solitude shall close. though benighted and forsaken, though afflicted and distressed; his almighty arm shall waken; zion's king shall give thee rest: cease thy sadness, unbelieving; soon his glory shalt thou see! joy and gladness, and thanksgiving, and the voice of melody! thos. hastings austria. s, . d. _the heralds of the gospel._ ( ) onward, onward, men of heaven bear the gospel's banner high; rest not, till its light is given, star of every pagan sky: send it where the pilgrim stranger paints beneath the torrid ray; bid the red-browed forest-ranger hail it, ere he fades away. rude in speech, or grim in feature, dark in spirit, though they be, show that light to every creature-- prince or vassal, bond or free: lo! they haste to every nation: host on host the ranks supply: onward! christ is your salvation, and your death is victory. mrs. lydia h. sigourney. baca. l.m. _save the perishing._ ( ) the heathen perish; day by day, thousands on thousands pass away! o christians, to their rescue fly, preach jesus to them ere they die! wealth, labor, talents freely give, yea, life itself, that they may live, what hath your savior done for you? and what for him will ye not do? oh, spirit of the lord! go forth, call in the south, wake up the north, from every clime, from sun to sun, gather god's children into one! j. montgomery baca. l.m. _home missions._ ( ) look from thy sphere of endless day, o god of mercy and of might! in pity look on those who stray, benighted, in this land of light. in peopled vale, in lonely glen, in crowded mart, by stream or sea, how many of the sons of men hear not the message sent from thee! send forth thy heralds, lord! to call the thoughtless young, the hardened old, a scattered, homeless flock, till all be gathered to thy peaceful fold. send them thy mighty word to speak, till faith shall dawn, and doubt depart, to awe the bold, to stay the weak, and bind and heal the broken heart. then all these wastes, a dreary scene, that make us sadden as we gaze, shall grow with living waters green, and lift to heaven the voice of praise. william c. bryant, . baca. l.m. _missionary charged and encouraged._ ( ) go, messenger of peace and love, to people plunged in shades of night, like angels sent from fields above, be thine to shed celestial light. go to the hungry--food impart; to paths of peace the wand'rer guide, and lead the thirsty, panting heart, where streams of living water glide. oh, faint not in the day of toil, when harvest waits the reaper's hand: go, gather in the glorious spoil, and joyous in his presence stand. thy love a rich reward shall find from him who sits enthroned on high: for they who turn the erring mind shall shine like stars above the sky. a. balfor baca. l.m. _ascend thy throne._ ascend thy throne, almighty king, and spread thy glories all abroad; let thine own arm salvation bring, and be thou known the gracious god. let millions bow before thy seat, let humble mourners seek thy face, bring daring rebels to thy feet, subdued by thy victorious grace. oh, let the kingdoms of the world become the kingdoms of the lord! let saints and angels praise thy name, be thou through heaven and earth adored. benjamin beddome. missionary chant. l.m. _the universal reign of christ._ ( ) arm of the lord! awake, awake; put on thy strength, the nation shake; and let the world, adoring, see triumphs of mercy, wrought by thee. say to the heathen, from thy throne, "i am jehovah--god alone!" thy voice their idols shall confound, and cast their altars to the ground. no more let human blood be spilt, vain sacrifice for human guilt; but to each conscience be applied the blood, that flowed from jesus' side. almighty god! thy grace proclaim in every clime, of every name, till adverse powers before thee fall, and crown the savior--lord of all. william shrubsole, . missionary chant. l.m. _mission to the heathen._ ( ) behold, the heathen waits to know the joy the gospel will bestow; the exiled captive to receive the freedom jesus has to give. come, let us, with a grateful heart, in this blest labor share a part; our prayers and offerings gladly bring to aid the triumphs of our king. our hearts exult in songs of praise, that we have seen these latter days, when our redeemer shall be known where satan long has held his throne. where'er his hand hath spread the skies, sweet incense to his name shall rise, and slave and freeman, greek and jew, by sovereign grace be formed anew. voke. missionary chant. l.m. _the gospel banner._ ( ) fling out the banner! let it float skyward and seaward, high and wide, the sun that lights its shining folds, the cross on which the savior died. fling out the banner! angels bend in anxious silence o'er the sign, and vainly seek to comprehend the wonder of the love divine. fling out the banner! heathen lands shall see from far the glorious sight; and nations, crowding to be born, baptize their spirits in its light. fling out the banner! sin-sick souls, that sink and perish in the strife, shall touch in faith its radiant hem, and spring immortal, into life. fling out the banner! let it float skyward and seaward, high and wide our glory, only in the cross, our only hope, the crucified. fling out the banner! wide and high, seaward and skyward let it shine; nor skill, nor might, nor merit, ours; we conquer only in that sign. george w. doane, . zion. s, s & s. _hopeful view._ ( ) yes, we trust the day is breaking; joyful times are near at hand; god, the mighty god, is speaking by his word in ev'ry land; when he chooses, darkness flies at his command. while the foe becomes more daring, while he enters like a flood god, the savior, is preparing means to spread his truth abroad, ev'ry language soon shall tell the love of god. oh, 'tis pleasant, 'tis reviving to our hearts, to hear, each day, joyful news, from far arriving, how the gospel wins its way, those enlight'ning who in death and darkness lay. god of jacob, high and glorious, let thy people see thy hand; let the gospel be victorious, through the world in every land; then shall idols perish, lord, at thy command. thomas kelly, . anvern. l.m. _the kingdom of christ._ great god! whose universal sway the known and unknown worlds obey; now give the kingdom to thy son; extend his power, exalt his throne. the heathen lands, that lie beneath the shades of over-spreading death, revive at his first dawning light, and deserts blossom at the sight. the saints shall flourish in his days, dressed in the robes of joy and praise; peace, like a river, from his throne, shall flow to nations yet unknown. isaac watts. missionary hymn. s & s. d. _condition of the heathen._ ( ) from greenland's icy mountains, from india's coral strand-- where afric's sunny fountains roll down their golden sand-- from many an ancient river, from many a palmy plain-- they call us to deliver their land from error's chain. shall we, whose souls are lighted by wisdom from on high, shall we to man benighted the light of life deny? salvation! oh, salvation! the joyful sound proclaim, till earth's remotest nation has learned messiah's name. waft, waft, ye winds, his story, and you, ye waters, roll, till like a sea of glory it spreads from pole to pole, till o'er our ransomed nature the lamb, for sinners slain, redeemer, king, creator, in bliss returns to reign. reginald heber, . missionary hymn. s & s. d. _home missions._ ( ) our country's voice is pleading, ye men of god, arise! his providence is leading, the land before you lies; day gleams are o'er it brightening, and promise clothes the soil; wide fields for harvest whitening, invite the reaper's toil. go where the waves are breaking on california's shore, christ's precious gospel taking, more rich than golden ore; on allegheny's mountains, through all the western vale, beside missouri's fountains, rehearse the wondrous tale. the love of christ unfolding, speed on from east to west, till all, his cross beholding, in him are fully blest. great author of salvation, haste, haste the glorious day, when we, a ransomed nation, thy scepter shall obey. mrs. g.w. anderson. webb. s & s. _success of the gospel._ ( ) the morning light is breaking, the darkness disappears: the sons of earth are waking to penitential tears. each breeze that sweeps the ocean brings tidings from afar of nations in commotion, prepared for zion's war. rich dews of grace come o'er us, in many a gentle shower, and brighter scenes before us are opening every hour; each cry, to heaven going, abundant answers brings, and heavenly gales are blowing, with peace upon their wings. see heathen nations bending before the god we love, and thousand hearts ascending in gratitude above; while sinners, now confessing, the gospel call obey, and seek the savior's blessing,-- a nation in a day. blest river of salvation! pursue thine onward way; flow thou to every nation, nor in thy richness stay:-- stay not, till all the lowly triumphant reach their home; stay not, till all the holy proclaim "the lord is come." samuel f. smith, . webb. s & s. _home missions._ ( ) go preach the blest salvation to every sinful race, and bid each guilty nation accept the savior's grace; but bear, oh, quickly bear it where thronging millions roam, and bid them freely share it, who dwell with us at home. where blooms the broad savanna, where mighty waters roll, there let the gospel banner beam hope on every soul; go where the west is teeming, and yet behold they come! the fields all ripe are gleaming for those who reap at home! our children there are dwelling, neglected and astray, whose hearts are often swelling to learn of zion's way. bear, bear to them the treasure and bid the exiles come; there is no sweeter pleasure, than preaching christ at home. sidney dyer. all around the world. s & s. _victory of the church._ see the flag of jesus o'er the earth unfurled! sabbath-schools are singing, all around the world; sunday-schools in china, india and japan, training souls for glory, by the gospel plan. cho.--lift the cross of jesus, bear the bible on; soon the world will echo, with the vict'ry won. see the flag of jesus, o'er the earth unfurled! sunday-schools are singing, all around the world. little indian diamonds, precious island pearls; learning bible lessons, happy boys and girls. afric's gold dust scattered, neath the feet of wrong, rises up in brightness, from the darkness long. sunday-schools are singing, france and spain and rome; hear their joyous music, songs of heaven and home. where the martyrs suffered, holy seed is spread; gather up these rubies, dyed in life-blood red. sunday-schools in chili, reaching down the coast; mexico is leading, gallant little host. glad brazilian children, praise to god shall sing; far-off patagonia answers christ is king. priscilla j. owens. dillenburg. s & s. _the messenger welcomed._ ( ) how beauteous on the mountains, the feet of him that brings, like streams from living fountains, good tidings of good things; that publisheth salvation, and jubilee release, to ev'ry tribe and nation, god's reign of joy and peace. lift up thy voice, oh, watchman! and shout from zion's towers, thy hallelujah chorus-- "the victory is ours!" the lord shall build up zion in glory and renown, and jesus, judah's lion, shall wear his rightful crown. break forth in hymns of gladness; oh, waste jerusalem! let songs, instead of sadness, thy jubilee proclaim; the lord in strength victorious, upon thy foes hath trod; behold, oh, earth! the glorious salvation of our god. benjamin gough, -. herold. s. _christian ministers._ ( ) soldiers of the cross! arise; gird you with your armor bright; mighty are your enemies, hard the battle ye must fight. guard the helpless, seek the strayed, soothe the troubled, banish grief; with the spirit's sword arrayed, scatter sin and unbelief. be the banner still unfurled, bear it bravely still abroad, till the kingdoms of the world are the kingdoms of the lord. william walsham how, . all hallows. c.m. _in the strength of jesus._ ( ) with thine own pity, savior, see the thronged and darkening way! we go to win the lost to thee, oh, help us, lord, we pray! thou bid'st us go, with thee to stand against hell's marshalled powers; and heart to heart, and hand to hand, to make thine honor ours. teach thou our lips of thee to speak, of thy sweet love to tell; till they who wander far shall seek and find and serve thee well. o'er all the world thy spirit send, and make thy goodness known, till earth and heaven together blend their praises at thy throne. ray palmer. all hallows. c.m. _zeal for souls.--john : ._ oh! still in accents sweet and strong sounds forth the ancient word,-- "more reapers for white harvest fields, more laborers for the lord!" we hear the call; in dreams no more in selfish ease we lie, but girded for our father's work, go forth beneath his sky. where prophet's word, and martyr's blood, and prayers of saints were sown, we, to their labors entering in, would reap where they have strown. s. longfellow. welton. l.m. _a meeting of ministers._ ( ) pour out thy spirit from on high; lord! thine assembled servants bless; graces and gifts to each supply. and clothe thy priests with righteousness. wisdom, and zeal, and faith impart, firmness with meekness from above, to bear thy people on our heart, and love the souls whom thou dost love; to watch and pray, and never faint; by day and night, strict guard to keep; to warn the sinner, cheer the saint, nourish thy lambs, and feed thy sheep. then, when our work is finished here, in humble hope, our charge resign; when the chief shepherd shall appear, o god! may they and we be thine. james montgomery, . welton. l.m. _an ordination service._ ( ) the solemn service now is done. the vow is pledged, the toil begun; seal thou, o god! the oath above, and ratify the pledge of love. the shepherd of thy people bless; gird him with thine own holiness; in duty may his pleasure be his glory in his zeal for thee. here let the ardent prayer arise, faith fix its grasp beyond the skies. the tear of penitence be shed, and myriads to the savior led. come, spirit! here consent to dwell; the mists of earth and sin dispel; blest savior! thine own rights maintain: supreme in every bosom reign. samuel f. smith, . happy day. l.m. _rejoicing in entire consecration._ ( ) oh, happy day, that fixed my choice, on thee, my savior and my god! well may this glowing heart rejoice, and tell its raptures all abroad. cho.--happy day, happy day, when jesus washed my sins away; he taught me how to watch and pray, and live rejoicing ev'ry day! oh, happy bond, that seals my vows to him who merits all my love! let cheerful anthems fill the house, while to his altar now i move. 'tis done--the great transaction's done; i am my lord's, and he is mine; he drew me, and i followed on, rejoiced to own the call divine. now rest--my long-divided heart-- fixed on this blissful center, rest; here have i found a nobler part, here heavenly pleasures fill my breast. high heaven, that heard the solemn vow, that vow renewed shall daily hear, till, in life's latest hour, i bow, and bless in death a bond so dear. philip doddridge, . happy day. l.m. _converts welcomed._ ( ) come in, thou blessed of the lord! enter in jesus' precious name; we welcome thee, with one accord, and trust the savior does the same. those joys, which earth cannot afford, we'll seek in fellowship to prove, joined in one spirit to our lord, together bound by mutual love. and, while we pass this vale of tears, we'll make our joys and sorrows known; we'll share each other's hopes and fears, and count a brother's case our own. once more, our welcome we repeat; receive assurance of our love; oh! may we all together meet, around the throne of god above. thomas kelly, . evan. c.m. _brotherly love._ ( ) how sweet, how heavenly is the sight, when those who love the lord, in one another's peace delight, and so fulfill his word!-- when each can feel his brother's sigh, and with him bear a part; when sorrow flows from eye to eye, and joy from heart to heart; when, free from envy, scorn, and pride, our wishes all above, each can his brother's failings hide, and show a brother's love: when love, in one delightful stream, through every bosom flows; when union sweet, and dear esteem, in every action glows. love is the golden chain, that binds the happy souls above; and he's an heir of heaven, that finds his bosom glow with love. joseph swain. evan. c.m. _gen. : ._ ( ) come in, beloved of the lord, stranger nor foe art thou; we welcome thee with warm accord, our friend, our brother, now. the hand of fellowship, the heart of love, we offer thee: leaving the world, thou dost but part from lies and vanity. come with us,--we will do thee good, as god to us hath done; stand but in him, as those have stood whose faith the victory won. and when, by turns, we pass away, and star by star grows dim, may each, translated into day, be lost and found in him. james montgomery. evan. c.m. _covenant vows._ ( ) witness, ye men and angels! now, before the lord we speak; to him we make our solemn vow, a vow we dare not break;-- that, long as life itself shall last, ourselves to christ we yield; nor from his cause will we depart, or even quit the field. we trust not in our native strength, but on his grace rely; that, with returning wants, the lord will all our need supply. oh! guide our doubtful feet aright, and keep us in thy ways; and, while we turn our vows to prayers, turn thou our prayers to praise. benjamin beddome, . dennis. s.m. _love to the brethren._ ( ) blest be the tie that binds our hearts in christian love! the fellowship of kindred minds is like to that above. before our father's throne, we pour our ardent prayers; our fears, our hopes, our aims are one, our comforts and our cares. we share our mutual woes; our mutual burdens bear; and often for each other flows the sympathizing tear. when we asunder part, it gives us inward pain; but we shall still be joined in heart, and hope to meet again. this glorious hope revives our courage by the way; while each in expectation lives, and longs to see the day. from sorrow, toil, and pain, and sin we shall be free; and perfect love and friendship reign through all eternity. john fawcett, . dennis. s.m. _laborers in the vineyard._ ( ) and let our bodies part-- to diff'rent climes repair; inseparably joined in heart the friends of jesus are. oh, let us still proceed in jesus' work below; and following our triumphant head, to further conquests go. the vineyard of the lord before his laborers lies; and lo! we see the vast reward which waits us in the skies. oh, let our heart and mind continually ascend, that haven of repose to find, where all our labors end. charles wesley dennis, s.m. _meeting after absence._ ( ) and are we yet alive, and see each other's face? glory and praise to jesus give, for his redeeming grace. preserved by power divine to full salvation here, again in jesus' praise we join, and in his sight appear. what troubles have we seen! what conflicts have we passed! fightings without, and fears within, since we assembled last! but out of all the lord hath brought us by his love; and still he doth his help afford, and hides our life above. let us take up the cross, till we the crown obtain; and gladly reckon all things loss so we may jesus gain. charles wesley. rockingham. l.m. _the likeness of his death._ ( ) how blest the hour when first we gave our guilty souls to thee, o god; a cheerful sacrifice of love, bought with the savior's precious blood. how blest the vow we here record! how blest the grace we now receive! buried in baptism with our lord, new lives of holiness to live. how blest the solemn rite that seals our death to sin, our guilt forgiven;-- how blest the emblem that reveals god reconciled and peace with heaven. thus through the emblematic grave the glorious, suffering savior trod; thou art our pattern, through the wave we follow thee, blest son of god. s.f. smith. rockingham. l.m. _the feast of love._ ( ) my god! and is thy table spread? and does thy cup with love o'erflow? thither be all thy children led, and let them all its sweetness know. hail! sacred feast, which jesus makes! rich banquet of his flesh and blood; thrice happy he, who here partakes that sacred stream, that heavenly food! oh! let thy table honored be, and furnished well with joyful guests; and may each soul salvation see, that here its sacred pledges tastes. let crowds approach, with hearts prepared; with hearts inflamed let all attend; nor, when we leave our father's board, the pleasure or the profit end. philip doddridge, . rockingham. l.m. _jesu, dulcedo cordium!_ ( ) jesus, thou joy of loving hearts! thou fount of life! thou light of men! from the best bliss that earth imparts, we turn unfilled to thee again. thy truth unchanged hath ever stood; thou savest those that on thee call; to them that seek thee, thou art good, to them that find thee,--all in all! we taste thee, oh, thou living bread! and long to feast upon thee still; we drink of thee, the fountain head, and thirst our souls from thee to fill. our restless spirits yearn for thee, where'er our changeful lot is cast; glad, when thy gracious smile we see, blest, when our faith can hold thee fast. o jesus! ever with us stay; make all our moments calm and bright; chase the dark night of sin away; shed o'er the world thy holy light. lat., bernard, of clairvaux, . tr., ray palmer, . aletta. s. _the bread of life._ ( ) bread of heaven, on thee we feed for thy flesh is meat indeed; ever let our souls be fed with this true and living bread. vine of heaven, thy blood supplies this blest cup of sacrifice; lord, thy wounds our healing give; to thy cross we look and live. day by day with strength supplied, thro' the life of him who died, lord of life, oh, let us be rooted, grafted, built on thee. josiah conder, . windham. l.m. _the lord's supper instituted._ ( ) 'twas on that dark, that dreadful night, when powers of earth and hell arose against the son of god's delight, and friends betrayed him to his foes. before the mournful scene began he took the bread, and blessed and brake; what love thro' all his actions ran! what wondrous words of grace he spake! "this is my body, broke for sin; receive and eat the living food;" then took the cup, and blessed the wine: "'tis the new cov'nant in my blood." "do this," he cried, "till time shall end, in mem'ry of your dying friend; meet at the table, and record the love of your departed lord." jesus, thy feast we celebrate; we show thy death, we sing thy name till thou return, and we shall eat the marriage supper of the lamb. isaac watts. dorrnance. s & s. _viewing the cross._ ( ) while, in sweet communion, feeding on this earthly bread and wine, savior, may we see thee bleeding on the cross, to make us thine. now, our eyes forever closing to this fleeting world below, on thy gentle breast reposing, teach us, lord, thy grace to know. though unseen, be ever near us, with the still small voice of love, whisp'ring words of peace to cheer us, ev'ry doubt and fear remove. bring before us all the story of thy life, and death of woe; and, with hopes of endless glory, wean our hearts from all below. edward denny, . arlington. c.m. _remembering christ._ ( ) that dreadful night before his death, the lamb, for sinners slain, did, almost with his dying breath, this solemn feast ordain. to keep the feast, lord, we have met, and to remember thee; help each poor trembler to repeat-- for me he died, for me. thy suff'rings, lord, each sacred sign to our remembrance brings; we eat the bread and drink the wine, but think on nobler things. oh, tune our tongues, and set in frame each heart that pants for thee, to sing, hosanna to the lamb, the lamb that died for me. joseph hart, d. till he come. s. _the coming joy._ "till he come!" oh, let the words linger on the trembling chords, let the "little while" between in their golden light be seen; let us think how heav'n and home lie beyond that "till he come!" when the weary ones we love enter on that rest above, when their words of love and cheer fall no longer on our ear, hush! be ev'ry murmur dumb, it is only "till he come!" clouds and darkness round us press; would we have one sorrow less? all the sharpness of the cross, all that tells the world is loss, death, and darkness, and the tomb pain us only "till he come!" see, the feast of love is spread, drink the wine and eat the bread: sweet memorials, till the lord call us round his heavn'ly board; some from earth, from glory some, severed only "till he come!" e.h.b. bickersteth, . arlington. c.m. _baptized into his death._ ( ) we long to move and breathe in thee, inspired with thine own breath, to live thy life, o lord, and be baptized into thy death. thy death to sin we die below, but we shall rise in love; we here are planted in thy woe, but we shall bloom above. above we shall thy glory share, as we thy cross have borne; e'en we shall crowns of honor wear, when we the thorns have worn. arlington. c.m. _baptism of children._ ( ) our children, lord, in faith and prayer we now devote to thee; let them thy covenant mercies share, and thy salvation see. in early days their hearts secure from worldly snares, we pray; and let them to the end endure in every righteous way. grant us before them, lord, to live in holy faith and fear; and then to heaven our souls receive and bring our children there. thanatopsis. s.m. _dying, not death._ ( ) it is not death to die,-- to leave this weary road, and, midst the brotherhood on high, to be at home with god. it is not death to close the eye long dimmed by tears, and wake, in glorious repose to spend eternal years. it is not death to fling aside this sinful dust, and rise, on strong exulting wing, to live among the just. jesus, thou prince of life! thy chosen cannot die; like thee, they conquer in the strife, to reign with thee on high. george w. bethune, . thanatopsis. s.m. _the crowning hour._ ( ) servant of god, well done! thy glorious warfare's past; the battle's fought, the race is won, and thou art crowned at last;-- of all thy heart's desire triumphantly possessed; lodged by the ministerial choir in thy redeemer's breast. in condescending love, thy ceaseless prayer he heard, and bade thee suddenly remove to thy complete reward. with saints enthroned on high, thou dost thy lord proclaim, and still to god salvation cry,-- salvation to the lamb! charles wesley. thanatopsis. s.m. _a little while._ ( ) a few more years shall roll, a few more seasons come, and we shall be with those that rest asleep within the tomb. a few more suns shall set o'er these dark hills of time, and we shall be where suns are not, a far serener clime. a few more storms shall beat on this wild rocky shore, and we shall be where tempests cease, and surges swell no more. a few more struggles here, a few more partings o'er, a few more toils, a few more tears, and we shall weep no more. 'tis but a little while and he shall come again, who died that we might live, who lives that we with him may reign. then, o my lord, prepare my soul for that great day; oh, wash me in thy precious blood, and take my sins away. horatius bonar, . st. sylvester. s & s. _death inevitable._ days and moments quickly flying blend the living with the dead; soon shall we who sing be lying, each within our narrow bed. soon our souls to god who gave them will have sped their rapid flight; able now by grace to save them, oh, that while we can we might. jesus, infinite redeemer, maker of this mighty frame, teach, oh, teach us to remember what we are, and whence we came:-- whence we came, and whither wending soon we must through darkness go, to inherit bliss unending, or eternity of woe. rev. edward caswell, . as the tree falls so must it lie; as the man lives so will he die; as the man dies, such must he be all through the days of eternity. amen. st. sylvester. s & s. _matthew : ._ ( ) jesus, while our hearts are bleeding o'er the spoils that death has won, we would at this solemn meeting, calmly say,--thy will be done. though cast down, we're not forsaken; though afflicted, not alone; thou didst give, and thou hast taken; blessed lord,--thy will be done. though to-day we're filled with mourning, mercy still is on the throne; with thy smiles of love returning, we can sing--thy will be done. by thy hands the boon was given, thou hast taken but thine own: lord of earth, and god of heaven, evermore,--thy will be done! thomas hastings. rest. l.m. _sleeping in jesus._ ( ) asleep in jesus! blessed sleep, from which none ever wakes to weep; a calm and undisturbed repose, unbroken by the dread of foes. asleep in jesus! peaceful rest, whose waking is supremely blest; no fear, no woes, shall dim the hour, which manifests the savior's power. asleep in jesus! oh, for me may such a blissful refuge be; securely shall my ashes lie, and wait the summons from on high. asleep in jesus! far from thee thy kindred and their graves may be; but thine is still a blessed sleep, from whence none ever wake to weep. mrs. margaret mackay, . rest. l.m. _the end of that man is peace._ ( ) how blest the righteous when he dies! when sinks a weary soul to rest! how mildly beam the closing eyes! how gently heaves the expiring breast! so fades a summer cloud away; so sinks the gale when storms are o'er; so gently shuts the eye of day; so dies a wave along the shore. a holy quiet reigns around, a calm which life nor death destroys; and naught disturbs that peace profound which his unfettered soul enjoys. life's labor done, as sinks the clay, light from its load the spirit flies, while heaven and earth combine to say, how blest the righteous when he dies! mrs. a.l. barbauld, . rest. l.m. _death and burial of a christian._ ( ) unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb; take this new treasure to thy trust and give these sacred relics room, to slumber in the silent dust. nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear, invades thy bounds; no mortal woes can reach the peaceful sleeper here, while angels watch the soft repose. so jesus slept; god's dying son passed through the grave, and blest the bed; rest here, blest saint, till from his throne the morning break, and pierce the shade. break from his throne, illustrious morn; attend, o earth, his sovereign word; restore thy trust; a glorious form shall then arise to meet the lord. isaac watts, . rest. l.m. _the fading flower._ ( ) so fades the lovely, blooming flower-- frail smiling solace of an hour! so soon our transient comforts fly, and pleasure only blooms to die. is there no kind, no lenient art, to heal the anguish of the heart? spirit of grace! be ever nigh, thy comforts are not made to die. bid gentle patience smile on pain, till dying hope shall live again; hope wipes the tear from sorrow's eye and faith points upward to the sky. anne steele, china. c.m. _we are confident._ ( ) why do we mourn departing friends, or shake at death's alarms? 'tis but the voice that jesus sends, to call them to his arms. are we not tending upward, too, as fast as time can move? nor would we wish the hours more slow, to keep us from our love. why should we tremble to convey their bodies to the tomb? there the dear flesh of jesus lay, and scattered all the gloom. the graves of all the saints be blessed, and softened every bed; where should the dying members rest, but with the dying head? thence he arose, ascending high, and showed our feet the way; up to the lord we, too, shall fly at the great rising-day. then let the last loud trumpet sound, and bid our kindred rise; awake! ye nations under ground; ye saints! ascend the skies. isaac watts, . china. c.m. _cheerful submission to death._ ( ) and let this feeble body fail, and let it faint or die; my soul shall quit the mournful vale, and soar to worlds on high-- shall join the disembodied saints, and find its long-sought rest; that only bliss for which it pants, in the redeemer's breast. in hope of that immortal crown i now the cross sustain; and gladly wander up and down, and smile at toil and pain. i suffer on my three-score years, till my deliverer come, and wipes away his servant's tears, and takes his exile home. charles wesley, . china. c.m. _mourning with hope._ ( ) why should our tears in sorrow flow when god recalls his own, and bids them leave a world of woe, for an immortal crown? is not e'en death a gain to those whose life to god was given? gladly to earth their eyes they close to open them in heaven. their toils are past, their work is done, and they are fully blest! they fought the fight, the victory won, and entered into rest. then let our sorrows cease to flow,-- god has recalled his own; but let our hearts, in every woe, still say, "thy will be done!" wm. h. bathurst, . frederick. s. _death not fearful._ i would not live alway; i ask not to stay where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way; the few cloudy mornings that dawn on us here are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer. i would not live alway; no, welcome the tomb! since jesus has lain there, i dread not its gloom; there sweet be my rest till he bid me arise, to hail him in triumph descending the skies. who, who would live alway, away from his god, away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains, and the noontide of glory eternally reigns; where the saints of all ages in harmony meet, their savior and brethren transported to greet; while the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, and the smile of the lord is the feast of the soul? w.a. muhlenburg. thy will be done. chant _mark : ._ "thy will be | done!" || in devious way the hurrying stream of | life may | run; || yet still our grateful hearts shall say, | "thy will be | done." "thy will be | done!" || if o'er us shine a gladdening and a | prosperous | sun, || this prayer will make it more divine-- | "thy will be | done!" "thy will be | done!" || tho' shrouded o'er our | path with | gloom, | one comfort, one || is ours:--to breathe, while we adore, | "thy will be | done." sir. j. bowring, . shining shore. s & s. trochaic. _on jordan's strand._ ( ) my days are gliding swiftly by, and i a pilgrim stranger, would not detain them as they fly, those hours of toil and danger. cho.--for, oh! we stand on jordan's strand, our friends are passing over; and, just before, the shining shore we may almost discover. we'll gird our loins, my brethren dear! our heav'nly home discerning; our absent lord has left us word,-- "let ev'ry lamp be burning." should coming days be cold and dark, we need not cease our singing; that perfect rest none can molest, where golden harps are ringing. let sorrow's rudest tempest blow, each cord on earth to sever; our king says,--"come!" and there's our home, forever, oh! forever! david nelson, . shining shore. s & s. trochaic. _wayfarers._ ( ) wayfarers in the wilderness, by morn, and noon, and even, day after day, we journey on, with weary feet toward heaven. cho.--o land above! o land of love! the glory shineth o'er thee; o christ, our king! in mercy bring us thither, we implore thee! by day the cloud before us goes, by night the cloud of fire, to guide us o'er the trackless waste, to canaan ever nigher. the sea was riven from our feet, and so shall be the river; and, by the king's highway brought home, we'll praise his name forever: alexander r. thompson, . nearer home. s. _a solemn thought._ ( ) one sweetly solemn thought comes to me o'er and o'er; i'm nearer home to-day than e'er i've been before. cho.--i'm nearer my home, nearer my home, nearer my home to-day; yes, nearer my home in heav'n to-day, than ever i've been before. nearer my father's house where the blest mansions be; nearer the great white throne, nearer the crystal sea; nearer the bound where we must lay our burdens down, nearer to leave the cross, nearer to gain the crown. the waves of that deep sea roll dark before my sight, but break, the other side, upon a shore of light. oh! if my mortal feet have almost gained the brink, if i am nearer home to-day than e'en i think, father! perfect my trust, that i may rest, in death, on christ, my lord, alone, and thus resign my breath. phoebe cary, _a._ consolation. p.m. _the death of a child._ there is no flock, however watched and tended, but one dead lamb is there! there is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, but has one vacant chair! the air is full of farewells to the dying, and mournings for the dead; the heart of rachel for her children crying will not be comforted! let us be patient, these severe afflictions not from the ground arise, but oftentimes celestial benedictions assume this dark disguise. we see but dimly thro' the mists and vapors, amid these earthly damps, what seem to us but sad, funereal tapers, may be heav'ns distant lamps. she is not dead, the child of our affection, but gone unto that school where she no longer needs our poor protection, and christ himself doth rule. in that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, by guardian angels led, safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, she lives whom we call dead. and tho' at times, impetuous with emotion, and anguish long suppressed, the swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean that cannot be at rest: we will be patient--and assuage the feeling we cannot wholly stay, by silence sanctifying, not concealing the grief that must have way. henry w. longfellow, . peace, be still. p.m. _submission._ peace, be still! in this night of sorrow bow; oh, my heart, contend not thou; what befalls is god's own will; peace, be still! hold thee still! tho' the father scourge thee sore, cling thou to him all the more; let him mercy's work fulfill; hold thee still! lord, my god! give me grace, that i may be thy true child, and silently own thy scepter and thy rod; lord, my god! shepherd mine! from thy fullness give me still faith to do and bear thy will till the morning light shall shine; shepherd mine! schiller. rest, weary pilgrim. s. _death of a christian._ rest, weary pilgrim, thy journey is o'er, rest, sweetly rest, on the beautiful shore; safely at last thou hast reached the bright goal, fatherland, home of the soul. never again shall thy storm-beaten breast sigh, deeply sigh, for the sweet "land of rest;" gone to the savior's bright mansion above, rest in the light of his love. rest, weary pilgrim, thy journey is o'er, rest, sweetly rest, on the beautiful shore; dangers and troubles shall harm thee no more, rest on the beautiful shore. maria straub. as fade the stars. p.m. _the life of the departed._ as fade the stars at morn away, their glory gone in perfect day, so pass away the friends we love, their presence lost in worlds above, while we o'er their slumbers are weeping. as sink the stars when night is o'er, to rise upon some other shore, so sink our precious ones from sight, in other skies to walk in light, while we sorrow's vigils are keeping. no more in east, or in the west, fade they from sight, or sink to rest; fixed firm in that celestial air, they radiant shine eternal there; our hearts up to meet them fond leaping. j.e. rankin, d.d. nettie. s & s. _consolation._ midst sorrow and care there's one that is near, and ever delights to relieve us. 'tis jesus, our friend, on whom we depend for life and for all its rich blessings. when trouble assails, his love never fails; he meets us with sweet consolation. meribah. c.p.m. _pleading for acceptance._ ( ) when thou, my righteous judge, shalt come, to take thy ransomed people home, shall i among them stand? shall such a worthless worm as i, who sometimes am afraid to die, be found at thy right hand? i love to meet thy people now, before thy feet with them to bow, though vilest of them all; but--can i bear the piercing thought?-- what if my name should be left out, when thou for them shalt call? o lord, prevent it by thy grace; be thou my only hiding-place, in this th' accepted day; thy pardoning voice, oh, let me hear, to still my unbelieving fear, nor let me fall, i pray. and when the final trump shall sound, among thy saints let me be found, to bow before thy face; then in triumphant strains i'll sing, while heaven's resounding mansions ring with praise of sovereign grace. mrs. selina shirley, meribah. c.p.m. _present and future realities._ ( ) lo! on a narrow neck of land, between two boundless seas i stand,-- yet how insensible! a point of time--a moment's space-- removes me to yon heavenly place, or shuts me up in hell! o god! my inmost soul convert, and deeply on my thoughtless heart eternal things impress; give me to feel their solemn weight, and save me, ere it be too late! wake me to righteousness. be this my one great business here, with holy trembling, holy fear, to make my calling sure; thine utmost counsel to fulfill, to suffer all thy righteous will, and to the end endure! then savior! then my soul receive, transported from the earth, to live and reign with thee above; where faith is sweetly lost in sight, and hope, in full supreme delight, and everlasting love. charles wesley, . marlow. c.m. _certainty of judgment._ ( ) that awful day will surely come, th' appointed hour makes haste, when i must stand before the judge and pass the solemn test. thou lovely chief of all my joys, thou sovereign of my heart, how could i bear to hear thy voice pronounce the sound, "depart!" oh, wretched state of deep despair, to see my god remove, and fix my dreadful station where i must not taste his love! oh, tell me that my worthless name is graven on thy hands; show me some promise in thy book where my salvation stands. isaac watts, . judgment. c.m. _the judgment day._ ( ) and must i be to judgment brought, and answer in that day, for every vain and idle thought, and every word i say? yes, every secret of my heart shall shortly be made known, and i receive my just desert for all that i have done. how careful then i ought to live! with what religious fear, who such a strict account must give for my behavior here. thou awful judge of quick and dead, the watchful power bestow; so shall i to my ways take heed, to all i speak or do. charles wesley. ewing. s & s. d. _the new jerusalem._ jerusalem, the golden, with milk and honey blest! beneath thy contemplation sink heart and voice oppressed: i know not, oh, i know not, what social joys are there, what radiancy of glory, what light beyond compare. they stand, those halls of zion, all jubilant with song, and bright with many an angel, and all the martyr throng; the prince is ever in them, the daylight is serene; the pastures of the blessed are decked in glorious sheen. there is the throne of david; and there, from care released, the song of them that triumph, the shout of them that feast; and they who, with their leader, have conquered in the light, forever and forever are clad in robes of white. bernard of cluny, . j.m. neale, tr., . swing. s & s. d. _paradise of joy._ for thee, o dear, dear country, mine eyes their vigils keep; for very love, beholding thy happy name, they weep. the mention of thy glory is unction to the breast, and medicine in sickness, and love, and life, and rest. oh, sweet and blessed country, the home of god's elect! oh, sweet and blessed country, that eager hearts expect! jesus, in mercy bring us to that dear land of rest; who art, with god the father, and spirit, ever blest. bernard of cluny, . j.m. neale, tr., . immanuel's land. s & s. d. _in immanuel's land._ the sands of time are wasting, the dawn of heaven breaks; the summer morn i've sighed for, the fair, sweet morn awakes. oh, dark hath been the midnight, but day-spring is at hand, and glory, glory dwelleth in immanuel's land. oh, christ, he is the fountain, the deep, sweet well of love; the streams of earth i've tasted, more deep i'll drink above. there, to an ocean fullness, his mercy doth expand, and glory, glory dwelleth in immanuel's land. oh, i am my beloved's, and my beloved's mine; he brings a poor, vile sinner into his house divine. upon the rock of ages my soul, redeemed, shall stand, where glory, glory dwelleth in immanuel's land. annie ross cousin, . immanuel's land. s & s. d. _heb. : ._ jerusalem, the glorious! the glory of th' elect,-- o dear and future vision that eager hearts expect! ev'n now by faith i see thee, ev'n here thy walls discern; to thee my thoughts are kindled, and strive, and pant, and yearn! the cross is all thy splendor, the crucified, thy praise; his laud and benediction thy ransomed people raise;-- jerusalem! exulting on that securest shore, i hope thee, wish thee, sing thee, and love thee evermore! o sweet and blessed country! shall i e'er see thy face? o sweet and blessed country! shall i e'er win thy grace?-- exult, o dust and ashes! the lord shall be thy part; his only, his forever, thou shalt be, and thou art! bernard of cluny, . j.m. neale, _tr._ varina. c.m. d. _the heavenly canaan._ ( ) 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 heavenly land from ours. 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. o could we make our doubts remove, those gloomy doubts 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 watts, . varina. c.m.d. _heavenly rest in anticipation_ ( ) when i can read my title clear to mansions in the skies, i'll bid farewell to every fear and wipe my weeping eyes. should earth against my soul engage, and fiery darts be hurled, then i can smile at satan's rage. and face a frowning world. let cares like a wild deluge come let storms of sorrow fall-- so i but safely reach my home, my god, my heaven, my all. there i shall bathe my weary soul in seas of heavenly rest, and not a wave of trouble roll across my peaceful breast. isaac watts, . varina. c.m.d. _the society of heaven._ ( ) jerusalem! my glorious home! name ever dear to me! when shall my labors have an end, in joy, and peace, and thee? when shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls and pearly gates behold? thy bulwarks with salvation strong, and streets of shining gold? oh, when, thou city of my god, shall i thy courts ascend, where congregations ne'er break up, and sabbaths have no end? there happier bowers than eden's bloom, nor sin nor sorrow know: blest seats! through rude and stormy scenes i onward press to you. why should i shrink at pain and woe? or feel at death dismay? i've canaan's goodly land in view, and realms of endless day. jerusalem! my glorious home! my soul still pants for thee; then shall my labors have an end, when i thy joys shall see. francis baker (?), . over there. p.m. _the home over there._ ( ) oh, think of the home over there, by the side of the river of light, where the saints all immortal and fair, are robed in their garments of white. ref.--over there, over there, oh, think of the home over there; over there, over there, over there, oh, think of the home over there. oh, think of the friends over there, who before us the journey have trod, of the songs that they breathe on the air. in their home in the palace of god. ref.--over there, over there, oh, think of the friends over there; over there, over there, over there, oh, think of the friends over there. my savior is now over there, there my kindred and friends are at rest; then away from my sorrow and care, let me fly to the land of the blest. ref.--over there, over there, my savior is now over there; over there, over there, over there, my savior is now over there. i'll soon be at home over there, for the end of my journey i see; many dear to my heart, over there, are watching and waiting for me. ref.--over there, over there, i'll soon be at home over there; over there, over there, over there, i'll soon be at home over there. rev. d.w.c. huntington. sweet by and by. p.m. _the other side._ ( ) there's a land that is fairer than day and by faith we can see it afar; for the father waits over the way, to prepare us a dwelling-place there. cho.--in the sweet by and by, we shall meet on that beautiful shore; in the sweet by and by, we shall meet on that beautiful shore. we shall sing on that beautiful shore the melodious songs of the blest, and our spirits shall sorrow no more, not a sigh for the blessing of rest. to our bountiful father above we will offer the tribute of praise, for the glorious gift of his love. and the blessings that hallow our days. we shall rest on that beautiful shore, in the joys of the saved we shall share; all our pilgrimage toil will be o'er, and the conqueror's crown we shall wear. we shall meet, we shall sing, we shall reign, in the land where the saved never die; we shall rest, free from sorrow and pain, safe at home in the sweet by and by. s.f. bennett. rest for the weary. s & s. _sweet fields of eden._ ( ) in the christian's home in glory, there remains a land of rest; there my savior's gone before me to fulfill my soul's request. cho.--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. he is fitting up my mansion, which eternally shall stand. for my stay shall not be transient, in that holy, happy land. 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. death itself shall then be vanquished and his sting shall be withdrawn; shout for gladness, oh, ye ransomed hail with joy the rising morn sing, oh! sing, ye heirs of glory shout your triumph as you go; zion's gate will open for you, you shall find an entrance through. william hunter, rest for the weary. s & s. _deut. : ._ ( ) this is not my place of resting,-- mine's a city yet to come; onward to it i am hasting-- on to my eternal home. in it all is light and glory; o'er it shines a nightless day; every trace of sin's sad story, all the curse hath passed away; there the lamb, our shepherd, leads us by the streams of life along-- on the freshest pastures feeds us, turns our sighing into song. soon we pass this desert dreary, soon we bid farewell to pain; never more are sad or weary, never, never sin again! h. bonar. woodland. c.m. _heaven's joys._ ( ) there is an hour of peaceful rest to mourning wand'rers giv'n; there is a joy for souls distressed, a balm for ev'ry wounded breast-- 'tis found above--in heav'n. there is a soft, a downy bed, 'tis fair as breath of even; a couch for weary mortals spread, where they may rest the aching head, and find repose--in heav'n. there is a home for weary souls, by sin and sorrow driv'n; when tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, where storms arise, and ocean rolls, and all is drear--but heav'n. there faith lifts up her cheerful eye, to brighter prospects giv'n; and views the tempest passing by, the evening shadows quickly fly, and all serene--in heav'n. wm. b. tappan, . going home. l.m. _joyful prospect._ my heavenly home is bright and fair; nor pain nor death can enter there; its glitt'ring towers the sun outshine; that heavenly mansion shall be mine. cho.--i'm going home, i'm going home, i'm going home to die no more, to die no more, to die no more, i'm going home to die no more. my father's house is built on high; far, far above the starry sky; when from this earthly prison free, that heavenly mansion mine shall be. let others seek a home below, which flames devour, or waves o'erflow, be mine a happier lot, to own a heavenly mansion near the throne. then fail this earth, let stars decline, and sun and moon refuse to shine all nature sink and cease to be, that heavenly mansion stands for me. rev. william hunter. sweet home. s. _the eternal home._ ( ) 'mid scenes of confusion and creature complaints, how sweet to my soul is communion with saints; to find at the banquet of mercy there's room, and feel in the presence of jesus at home. cho.--home! home! sweet, sweet home! prepare me, dear savior, for glory, my home. sweet bonds that unite all the children of peace, and thrice precious jesus whose love cannot cease, tho' oft from thy presence in sadness i roam, i long to behold thee in glory at home. i sigh from this body of sin to be free, which hinders my joy and communion with thee; tho' now my temptations like billows may foam, all, all will be peace when i'm with thee at home. while here in the valley of conflict i stay, oh, give me submission and strength as my day, in all my afflictions to thee would i come, rejoicing in hope of my glorious home. david denham, . we shall meet. p.m. _the joyful anticipation._ we shall meet beyond the river, by and by, by and by; and the darkness shall be over, by and by, by and by; with the toilsome journey done, and the glorious battle won, we shall shine forth as the sun, by and by, by and by. we shall strike the harps of glory, by and by, by and by; we shall sing redemption's story. by and by, by and by; and the strains for evermore shall resound in sweetness o'er yonder everlasting shore, by and by, by and by. we shall see and be like jesus, by and by, by and by; who a crown of life will give us, by and by, by and by; and the angels who fulfill all the mandates of his will shall attend, and love us still, by and by, by and by. there our tears shall all cease flowing, by and by, by and by; and with sweetest rapture knowing, by and by, by and by; all the blest ones who have gone to the land of life and song,-- we with shoutings shall rejoin, by and by, by and by. rev. john atkinson. deliverance will come. s & s. _the conquering pilgrim._ i saw a way-worn trav'ler, in tattered garments clad, and struggling up the mountain, it seemed that he was sad; his back was laden heavy, his strength was almost gone, yet he shouted as he journeyed, deliverance will come. ref.--then palms of victory, crowns of glory, palms of victory i shall wear. the summer sun was shining, the sweat was on his brow, his garments worn and dusty, his step seemed very slow; but he kept pressing onward, for he was wending home; still shouting as he journeyed, deliverance will come. the songsters in the arbor that stood beside the way attracted his attention, inviting his delay; his watchword being "onward," he stopped his ears and run, still shouting as he journeyed, deliverance will come. i saw him in the evening, the sun was bending low, he'd overtopped the mountain and reached the vale below; he saw the golden city,-- his everlasting home,-- and shouted loud, hosanna, deliverance will come! while gazing on that city, just o'er the narrow flood, a band of holy angels came from the throne of god; they bore him on their pinions safe o'er the dashing foam, and joined him in his triumph,-- deliverance has come! i heard the song of triumph they sang upon that shore, saying, jesus has redeemed us to suffer nevermore: then, casting his eyes backward on the race which he had run, he shouted loud, hosanna, deliverance has come! j.b. matthias. home of the soul. p.m. _the beautiful land._ i will sing you a song of that beautiful land, the far away home of the soul; where no storms ever beat on the glittering strand, while the years of eternity roll. oh, that home of the soul, in my visions and dreams its bright jasper walls i can see; till i fancy but thinly the veil intervenes between the fair city and me. that unchangeable home is for you and for me, where jesus of nazareth stands, the king of all kingdoms forever is he, and he holdeth our crowns in his hands. oh, how sweet it will be in that beautiful land, so free from all sorrow and pain; with songs on our lips and with harps in our hands, to meet one another again. mrs. ellen h. gates. forever with the lord. s.m.d. _eternal blessedness._ ( ) "forever with the lord!" amen, so let it be; life from the dead is in that word, 'tis immortality. here in the body pent, absent from him i roam, yet nightly pitch my moving tent a day's march nearer home; nearer home, nearer home, a day's march nearer home. my father's house on high, home of my soul, how near, at times, to faith's aspiring eye thy golden gates appear. ah! then my spirit faints to reach the land i love; the bright inheritance of saints-- jerusalem above; home above, home above, jerusalem above. yet doubts still intervene, and all my comfort flies; like noah's dove, i flit between rough seas and stormy skies. anon the clouds depart, the wind and waters cease, while sweetly o'er my gladdened heart expands the bow of peace; bow of peace, bow of peace, expands the bow of peace. james montgomery, . on jordan's stormy banks. c.m. _the pleasing prospect._ ( ) on jordan's stormy banks i stand, and cast a wishful eye to canaan's fair and happy land, where my possessions lie. cho.--we will rest in the fair and happy land, just across on the evergreen shore, sing the song of moses and the lamb, by and by, and dwell with jesus evermore. o'er all those wide-extended plains shines one eternal day; there god the son forever reigns and scatters night away. when shall i reach that happy place, and be forever blest? when shall i see my father's face, and in his bosom rest? filled with delight, my raptured soul would here no longer stay; tho' jordan's waves around me roll, fearless i'd launch away. samuel stennett, . shall we gather. s & s. _the river of life._ shall we gather at the river where bright angel feet have trod; with its crystal tide forever flowing by the throne of god. cho.--yes, we'll gather at the river, the beautiful, the beautiful river,-- gather with the saints at the river that flows by the throne of god. on the margin of the river washing up its silver spray, we will walk and worship ever, all the happy, golden day. ere we reach the shining river lay we ev'ry burden down; grace our spirits will deliver, and provide a robe and crown. at the smiling of the river mirror of the savior's face, saints whom death will never sever lift their songs of saving grace. soon we'll reach the silver river, soon our pilgrimage will cease; soon our happy hearts will quiver with the melody of peace. robert lowry. the future. s & s. d. _the future in god's hands._ oh, i often sit and ponder, when the sun is sinking low, where shall yonder future find me? does but god in heaven know? shall i be among the living? shall i be among the free? wheresoe'er my path be leading, savior, keep my heart with thee. cho.--oh, the future lies before me, and i know not where i'll be; but where'er my path be leading, savior, keep my heart with thee. shall i be at work, for jesus, whilst he leads me by the hand, and to those around be saying, come and join this happy band? come, for all things now are ready, come, his faithful foll'wer be; oh, where'er my path be leading, savior, keep my heart with thee. but perhaps my work for jesus soon in future may be done, all my earthly trials ended, and my crown in heaven won; then forever with the ransomed thro' eternity i'd be chanting hymns to him who bo't me with his blood, shed on a tree. miss jennie stout. going home at last. s & s. _the aged christian's delight._ the evening shades are falling, the sun is sinking fast; the holy one is calling, we're going home at last. cho.--going home at last; going home at last; the march will soon be over, we're going home at last. the road's been long and dreary, the toils came thick and fast; in body weak and weary, were going home at last. we now are nearing heaven, and soon shall be at rest; our crowns will soon be given, we're going home at last. oh, praise the lord forever, our sorrows are all past; we'll part no more, no, never; we are at home at last. rev. w. gossett. the sweet story. p.m. _christ's delight in children._ i think when i read that sweet story of old, when jesus was here among men, how he called little children as lambs to his fold, i should like to have been with them then. ref.--i should like to have been with them then; i should like to have been with them then; how he called little children as lambs to his fold, i should like to have been with them then. i wish that his hands had been placed on my head, his arms had been thrown around me, and that i might have seen his kind look when he said, "let the little ones come unto me." ref.--"let the little ones come unto me," "let the little ones come unto me," and that i might have seen his kind look when he said, "let the little ones come unto me." yet still to his footstool in prayer i may go, and ask for a share in his love; and if i now earnestly seek him below, i shall see him and hear him above. ref.--i shall see him and hear him above, i shall see him and hear him above, and if i now earnestly seek him below, i shall see him and hear him above. mrs. jemima luke, . siloam. c.m. _childhood piety._ ( ) by cool siloam's shady rill, how fair the lily grows! how sweet the breath, beneath the hill, of sharon's dewy rose! lo! such the child whose early feet the paths of peace have trod, whose secret heart, with influence sweet, is upward drawn to god. by cool siloam's shady rill the lily must decay; the rose that blooms beneath the hill must shortly fade away. and soon, too soon, the wintry hour of man's maturer age will shake the soul with sorrow's pow'r. and stormy passions rage. reginald heber, . swanwick. c.m. _a new house of worship._ ( ) god of the universe! to thee this sacred house we rear, and now, with songs and bended knee, invoke thy presence here. long may this echoing dome resound the praises of thy name, these hallowed walls to all around the triune god proclaim. here let thy love, thy presence dwell; thy glory here make known; thy people's home, oh! come and fill, and seal it as thine own. and, when the last long sabbath morn upon the just shall rise, may all who own thee here be borne to mansions in the skies. miss mary o----, . swanwick. c.m. _church opening._ arise, o king of grace, arise, and enter to thy rest; lo! thy church waits, with longing eyes, thus to be owned and blest. enter with all thy glorious train. thy spirit and thy word; all that the ark did once contain could no such grace afford. here, mighty god, accept our vows, here let thy praise be spread; bless the provisions of thy house and fill thy poor with bread. here let the son of david reign, let god's anointed shine; justice and truth his court maintain with love and power divine. here let him hold a lasting throne, and as his kingdom grows, fresh honors shall adorn his crown. and shame confound his foes. isaac watts. swanwick. c.m. _temperance meeting._ ( ) 'tis thine alone, almighty name, to raise the dead to life, the lost inebriate to reclaim from passion's fearful strife. what ruin hath intemperance wrought, how widely roll its waves! how many myriads hath it brought to fill dishonored graves! and see, o lord! what numbers still are maddened by the bowl, led captive at the tyrant's will, in bondage heart and soul! stretch forth thy hand, o god, our king! and break the galling chain; deliverance to the captive bring, and end th' usurper's reign. the cause of temperance is thine own, our plans and efforts bless; we trust, o lord! in thee alone to crown them with success. edwin f. hatfield, . let us arise. p.m. _moral reforms._ do you slumber in your tent, christian soldier, while the foe is spreading woe thro' the land? do you note his rising pow'r, growing bolder ev'ry hour? will he not our land devour while you stand? cho.--let us arise, all unite! let us arise in our might! let us arise! speak for god and the right. tho' our numbers may be few, god will lead us grandly thro' and our arms with strength endue by his might. can you sleep while homes are rent, christian soldier? are not heavens turned to hells by his pow'r? mark you not the mother's sigh? hear you not the children's cry? see you not their loved ones die ev'ry hour? can you linger in your tent, christian soldier? satan's smiling o'er your idle delay. thousands perish while you wait, while you counsel and debate; heed you not their awful fate as they stray? let us rise in holy wrath, christian soldiers, crush the evil 'neath the heel of our might! counting cost, no longer wait; forward, manhood of the state! for in god your strength is great for the right. e.s. lorenz. webb. s & s. d. _the temperance banner._ ( ) unfurl the temp'rance banner and fling it to the breeze, and let the glad hosanna sweep over land and seas; to god be all the glory for what we now behold-- oh, let the cheering story in every ear be told. the drunkard shall not perish in alcohol's dire chain, but wife and children cherish within his home again; and sobered men, repenting, will bow at jesus' feet, their thankful hearts relenting before the mercy-seat. a new-waked zeal is burning in this and every land, and thousands now are turning to join our temp'rance band; the light of truth is shining in many a darkened soul; ere long its rays combining will blaze from pole to pole. webb. s & s. d. _the crystal fountain._ ( ) from brightest crystal fountain that flows in beauty free, by shady hill and mountain fill high the cup for me! sing of the sparkling waters, sing of the cooling spring-- let freedom's sons and daughters their joyous tribute bring. from many a happy dwelling, late misery's dark abode, the joyous peal is swelling-- the hymn of praise to god, glad songs are now ascending from many a thankful heart, hope, joy, and peace are blending, and each their aid impart. we'll join the tuneful chorus and raise our song on high! the cheering view before us delights the raptured eye; the glorious cause is gaining new strength from day to day, the drunkard host is waning before cold water's sway. hebron. l.m. _corner-stone laying._ ( ) an earthly temple here we raise, lord god, our savior! to thy praise; oh! make thy gracious presence known, while now we lay its corner-stone. within the house thy servants rear, deign by thy spirit to appear; on all its walls salvation write, from corner-stone to topmost height. and when this temple, "made with hands," upon its firm foundation stands, oh! may we all with loving heart, in nobler building bear a part, where every polished stone shall be a human soul won back to thee; all resting upon christ alone,-- the chief and precious corner-stone. mrs. catherine h. johnson, . chesterfield. c.m. _prayer for the nation._ ( ) lord! while for all mankind we pray, of ev'ry clime and coast, oh! hear us for our native land,-- the land we love the most. oh! guard our shore from ev'ry foe, with peace our borders bless, with prosperous times our cities crown, our fields with plenteousness. unite us in the sacred love of knowledge, truth, and thee; and let our hills and valleys shout the songs of liberty. lord of the nations! thus to thee our country we commend; be thou her refuge and her trust, her everlasting friend. john reynell wreford, . america. s & s. _america._ ( ) my country! 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee i sing: land where my fathers died! land of the pilgrim's pride! from ev'ry mountain side let freedom ring! my native country, thee,-- land of the noble, free,-- thy name--i love; i love thy rocks and rills, thy woods and templed hills; my heart with rapture thrills like that above. let music swell the breeze, and ring, from all the trees, sweet freedom's song; let mortal tongues awake; let all that breathe partake; let rocks their silence break,-- the sound prolong. our fathers' god! to thee, author of liberty, to thee we sing; long may our land be bright with freedom's holy light; protect us, by thy might, great god, our king! samuel f. smith, . america. s & s. _our native land._ ( ) god bless our native land! firm may she ever stand, through storm and night; when the wild tempests rave, ruler of winds and wave! do thou our country save, by thy great might. for her our prayer shall rise to god above the skies; on him we wait; thou, who art ever nigh, guardian with watchful eye! to thee aloud we cry,-- god save the state! john s. dwight, . america. s & s. _the poor._ lord, from thy blessed throne, sorrow look down upon! god save the poor! teach them true liberty, make them from tyrants free, let their homes happy be! god save the poor! the arms of wicked men do thou with might restrain-- god save the poor! raise thou their lowliness, succor thou their distress, thou whom the meanest bless! god save the poor! give them stanch honesty, let their pride manly be-- god save the poor! help them to hold the right, give them both truth and might, lord of all life and light! god save the poor! nicoll. our glad jubilee. p.m. _thanksgiving anniversary._ wake, wake the song! our glad jubilee once more we hail with sweet melody, bringing our hymns of praise unto thee, o most holy lord! praise for thy care by day and by night, praise for the homes by love made so bright; thanks for the pure and soul-cheering light beaming from thy word. then wake, wake the song! our glad jubilee once more we hail with sweet melody, bringing our hymns of praise unto thee, o most holy lord! marching to zion, dear blessed home! lord! by thy mercy hither we come; guide us, we pray, where'er we may roam, keep us in thy fear; fill ev'ry soul with love all divine, now cause thy face upon us to shine; grant that our hearts may be truly thine all the coming year. then wake, wake the song! our glad jubilee once more we hail with sweet melody, bringing our hymns of praise unto thee, o most holy lord! yet once again the anthem repeat, join ev'ry voice the master to greet; love's sacrifice we lay at his feet, in his temple now. jesus accept the offering we bring, blending with song the odors of spring; still of thy wondrous love we will sing, till in heaven we bow. then wake, wake the song! our glad jubilee once more we hail with sweet melody, bringing our hymns of praise unto thee, o most holy lord! w.f. sherwin. laudo. s. _thanksgiving._ ( ) praise to god! immortal praise, for the love that crowns our days; bounteous source of ev'ry joy, let thy praise our tongues employ. for the flocks that roam the plain, yellow sheaves of ripened grain, clouds that drop their fatt'ning dews, suns that temp'rate warmth diffuse; all that spring with bounteous hand, scatters o'er the smiling land, all that lib'ral autumn pours from her rich o'erflowing stores; lord, for these our souls shall raise grateful vows and solemn praise; and when ev'ry blessing's flown, love thee for thyself alone. mrs. anna l. barbauld, . seasons. l.m. _at sea._ ( ) rocked in the cradle of the deep, i lay me down in peace to sleep; secure i rest upon the wave, for thou, o lord, hast power to save. i know thou wilt not slight my call, for thou dost mark the sparrows fall; and calm and peaceful is my sleep, rocked in the cradle of the deep. and such the trust that still were mine, though stormy winds swept o'er the brine; or though the tempest's fiery breath roused me from sleep to wreck and death. in ocean cave still safe with thee, the germ of immortality; and calm and peaceful is my sleep, rocked in the cradle of the deep. mrs. willard. let us anew. p.m. _new year._ come, let us anew our journey pursue-- roll round with the year, and never stand still till the master appear; his adorable will let us gladly fulfill, and our talents improve by the patience of hope and the labor of love. our life is a dream, our time, as a stream, glides swiftly away, and the fugitive moment refuses to stay; the arrow is flown, the moment is gone; the millenial year rushes on to our view, and eternity's near. oh, that each, in the day of his coming, may say, "i have fought my way through; i have finished the work thou didst give me to do;" oh, that each from his lord may receive the glad word, "well and faithfully done; enter into my joy and sit down on my throne" charles wesley. . index of first lines. abide with me, fast falls the eventide, a charge to keep i have, a few more years shall roll, again our earthly cares we leave, ah! how shall fallen man, alas! and did my savior bleed, all hail the power of jesus' name, "almost persuaded," now to believe, amazing grace! how sweet the sound, am i a soldier of the cross, amid the trials which i meet, and are we yet alive, and can i yet delay, and let our bodies part, and let this feeble body fail, and must i be to judgment brought, an earthly temple here we raise, angel, roll the rock away, angels rejoiced and sweetly song, a pilgrim through this lonely world, approach my soul the mercy seat, are there no wounds for me, are you christ's light-bearer, are you weary, are you heavy hearted, arise, my soul, arise, arise, o king of grace, arise, arise, ye saints, arise, arm of the lord, awake, awake, ascend thy throne, almighty king, as fade the stars at morn away, ask ye, what great thing i know, asleep in jesus! blessed sleep, as pants the hart for cooling stream, astonished and distressed, a throne of grace! then let us go, awake and sing the song, awake, awake, the sacred song, awake, my soul, and with the sun, awake, my soul, awake, my tongue, awake, my soul, stretch every nerve, awake, my soul, to joyful lays, before jehovah's awful throne, begin, my tongue, some heavenly theme, behold a stranger at the door, behold! the blind their sight receive, behold the heathen waits to know, behold! the morning sun, behold the throne of grace, behold what wondrous grace, behold where, in the friend of man, beneath thy cross i lay me down, blessed be thy love, dear lord, blest be the father and his love, blest be the tie that binds, blest is the man whose heart doth move, blest is the man, whose softening heart, blow ye the trumpet, blow, bread of heaven, on thee we feed, broad is the road that leads to death, buried in shadows of the night, by cool siloam's shady rill, by thy birth, and by thy tears, called to the feast by the king are we, calm on the listening ear of night, cast thy burden on the lord, cast thy burden on the lord, children of the heavenly king, christ has for sin atonement made, christ the lord is risen to-day, church of the ever-living god, come at the morning hour, come, dearest lord, and feed thy sheep, come, every soul, by sin oppressed, come, holy ghost, in love, come, holy spirit, come, come, holy spirit, heavenly dove, come, humble sinner, in whose breast, come in, beloved of the lord, come in, thou blessed of the lord, come, let us all unite to praise, come, let us all unite to sing, come, let us anew, come, let us join the songs of praise, come, let us sing the song of songs, come, my soul, thy suit prepare, come, oh, my soul, in sacred lays, come, says jesus' sacred voice, come, sound his praise abroad, come, thou almighty king, come, thou fount of every blessing, come, thou long-expected jesus, come to jesus, come to jesus, come to the cross where the savior, come to the blood-stained tree, come, we that love the lord, come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye, come, ye sinners, poor and needy, come ye that know and fear the lord, command thy blessing from above, complete in thee! no work of mine, crown him with many crowns, crown his head with endless blessing, daughter of zion, from the dust, days and moments quickly flying, deep in our hearts let us record, delay not, delay not; oh sinner, depth of mercy! can there be, did christ o'er sinners weep, do not i love thee, oh, my lord, do you hear the savior calling, do you slumber in your tent, down at the cross where my savior died, down in the valley with my savior, drooping souls! no longer mourn, earth has nothing sweet or fair, ere mountains reared their forms, eternal spirit! by whose power, eternal wisdom, thee we praise, ever would i fain be reading, fade, fade, each earthly joy, fading, still fading, the last beam, faith is a living pow'r from heav'n, father, i stretch my hands to thee, father of mercies, in thy word, father, whate'er of earthly bliss, fling out the banner! let it float, forever here my rest shall be, forever with the lord, for thee, o dear, dear country, from all that dwell below the skies, from brightest crystal fountain, from calvary a cry was heard, from every stormy wind that blows, from greenland's icy mountains, from the cross uplifted high, give me the bible, star of gladness, give to the winds thy fears, glorious things of thee are spoken, glory be to the father, - god be with you till we meet again, god bless our native land, god is love, his mercy brightens, god is my strong salvation, god is the refuge of his saints, god moves in a mysterious way, god of my life! through all my days, god of our salvation! hear us, god of the universe, to thee, go, labor on, spend and be spent, go, labor on, while it is day, go, messenger of peace and love, go, preach the blest salvation, grace! 'tis a charming sound, gracious spirit, love divine, great god! attend while zion sings, great god, how infinite art thou, great god, when i approach thy throne, great god, whose universal sway, great spirit, by whose mighty pow'r, guide me, o thou great jehovah, hail! great creator, wise and good, hail! holy, holy, holy lord, hail! morning known among the blest, hail, my ever blessed jesus, hallelujah! song of gladness, hark! ten thousand harps and voices, hark the glad sound! the savior comes, hark, the herald angels sing, hasten, sinner! to be wise, have you been to jesus for the, he knows the bitter, weary way, he leadeth me! oh, blessed tho't, here i can firmly rest, he wills that i should holy be, holy bible, book divine, holy ghost, dispel our sadness, holy, holy, holy! lord god almighty, holy spirit, faithful guide, holy spirit, fount of blessing, hosanna to the prince of light, hover o'er me, holy spirit, how beauteous on the mountains, how blest the hour when first we gave, how blest the righteous when he dies, how charming is the place, how did my heart rejoice to hear, how firm a foundation, ye saints, how gentle god's commands, how beauteous were the marks divine, how heavy is the night, how helpless guilty nature lies, how pleasant, how divinely fair, how precious is the book divine, how sad it would be, if when thou, how sad our state by nature is, how shall the young secure their hearts, how solemn are the words, how sweet, how heavenly is the sight, how sweetly breaks the sabbath dawn, how sweetly flowed the gospel's sound, how sweet the name of jesus, how sweet to leave the world awhile, how tedious and tasteless the hours, how tender is thy hand, how vast, how full, how free, i am coming to the cross, i am dwelling on the mountain, i am thine, o lord, i have heard, i cannot always trace the way, i cannot do without thee, i gave my life for thee, i have found a friend in jesus, i have found redemption, i have found repose for my weary soul, i heard the voice of jesus say, i hear the savior say, i hear thy welcome voice, i know that my redeemer lives, i love to steal awhile away, i love to tell the story, i love thy kingdom, lord, i need thee every hour, i saw a way-worn, trav'ler, i sing th' almighty pow'r of god, i stand, but not as once i did, i think when i read that sweet story, i want to be a worker for the lord, i will sing you a song of that beautiful, i would not live alway; i ask not to stay, in god i have found a retreat, in heavenly love abiding, in some way or other, in stature grows the heavenly child, in the cross of christ i glory, in the christian's home in glory, in thy cleft, o rock of ages, in thy name, o lord! assembling, in thy service will i ever, in vain in high and holy lays, it came upon the midnight clear, it is not death to die, i've found the pearl of greatest price, i've reached the land of corn and wine, jehovah god! thy gracious pow'r, jerusalem, my glorious home, jerusalem, the glorious, jerusalem, the golden, jesus, and shall it ever be, jesus comes, his conflict over, jesus, i my cross have taken, jesus is god! the glorious bands, jesus is tenderly calling thee home, jesus, keep me near the cross, jesus, lover of my soul, jesus, my all, to heaven is gone, jesus, my heart within me burns, jesus, my lord, to thee i cry, jesus, my savior, to bethlehem came, jesus, my truth, my way, jesus, savior, pilot me, jesus shall reign where'er the sun, jesus, the very thought of thee, jesus, thou art the sinner's friend, jesus, thou joy of loving hearts, jesus, thy church with longing eyes, jesus, thy name i love, jesus, while our hearts are bleeding, joy to the world! the lord is come, just as i am, without one plea, just as thou art, without one trace, lead, kindly light, amid the encircling, lift up the gates of praise, lift up to god the voice of praise, light after darkness, like noah's weary dove, listen, sinner! mercy hails you, look from thy sphere of endless day, lo! on a narrow neck of land, lord, dismiss us with thy blessing, lord, from thy blessed throne, lord, i am thine, entirely thine, lord, i believe a rest remains, lord, i care not for riches, lord, i have made thy word my choice, lord, i hear of showers of blessing, lord, i know thy grace is nigh me, lord jesus, i long to be perfectly whole, lord of all being! throned afar, lord, send thy word, and let it fly, lord, teach us how to pray aright, lord, thy glory fills the heaven, lord, weak and impotent i stand, lord, we come before thee now, lord, while for all mankind we pray, love divine, all love excelling, majestic sweetness sits enthroned, mercy, oh, thou son of david, mid scenes of confusion and creature, midst sorrow and care, mine eyes and my desire, more love to thee, o christ, must jesus bear the cross alone, my country! 'tis of thee, my days are gliding swiftly by, my dear redeemer and my lord, my faith looks up to thee, my father is rich in houses and lands, my god! accept my heart this day, my god and is thy table spread, my god, how wonderful thou art, my god, i know, i feel thee mine, my god, is any hour so sweet, my god, my father, while i stray, my god! my king! thy various praise, my gracious lord, i own thy right, my gracious redeemer i love, my heavenly home is bright and fair, my hope is built on nothing less, my jesus, as thou wilt, my life, my love, i give to thee, my savior, whom absent i love, my soul, be on thy guard, my soul shall praise thee, o my god, nearer, my god, to thee, not all the blood of beasts, now for a tune of lofty praise, now to the lord a noble song, oh, bless the lord, my soul, oh, bliss of the purified! bliss of the, oh, come, loud anthems let us sing, oh! could i find from day to day, oh, could i speak the matchless worth, o day of rest and gladness, oh, do not let the word depart, oh, eyes that are weary and hearts, oh, for a closer walk with god, oh, for a faith that will not shrink, oh, for a heart to praise my god, oh, for a thousand tongues to sing, o god, our help in ages past, oh, happy day, that fixed my choice, o holy savior, friend unseen, oh, how happy are they, o, i often sit and ponder, o jesus full of grace, o, jesus, jesus, dearest lord, o jesus! sweet the tears i shed, o lord, how full of sweet content, o love i who gav'st thy life for me, oh, now i see the cleansing wave, oh, render thanks to god above, o, sacred head, now wounded, oh, scatter seeds of loving deeds, oh, still in accents sweet, oh, that i could forever dwell, oh, that my load of sin were gone, oh, the peace that fills my soul, o, think of the home over there, o thou, in whose presence my soul, oh, thou, the contrite sinner's friend, oh thou, whose own vast temple stands, oh, turn ye, oh turn ye, for why, oh, weary pilgrim, lift your head, oh, what if we are christ's, o when shall i see jesus, on! where are kings and empires, oh, where shall rest be found, oh, wondrous, deep, unbounded love, oh, wondrous type, oh, vision fair, o worship the king, all-glorious above, of him who did salvation bring, one sweetly solemn thought, on jordan's stormy bank i stand, only a word for jesus, on the mountain's top appearing, onward, onward, men of heaven, oppressed with noonday's scorching, our children, lord, in faith and prayer, our country's voice is pleading, our father who art in heaven, our lord is now rejected, our sins on christ were laid, peace be still! in this night of sorrow, pour out thy spirit from on high, praise god from whom all blessings flow, praise the lord; ye heavens adore him, praise to god, immortal praise, praise to thee, thou great creator, prayer is appointed to convey, prayer is the soul's sincere desire, rejoice and be glad, the redeemer has, rescue the perishing, rest, weary pilgrim, thy journey is o'er, revive thy work, o lord, ride on! ride on in majesty, rise, glorious conqueror, rise, rocked in the cradle of the deep, rock of ages, cleft for me, safely thro' another week, safe in the arms of jesus, salvation! oh, the joyful sound, savior, again to thy dear name we raise, savior, breathe an evening blessing, savior, more than life to me, savior! teach me, day by day, savior, visit thy plantation, saw ye my savior, say, sinner, hath a voice within, see how the morning sun, see, the conqueror mounts in triumph, see the flag of jesus, servant of god, well done, shall we gather at the river, show pity, lord, o lord, forgive, silently the shades of evening, simply trusting every day, sing them over again to me, sing to the lord jehovah's name, sinners jesus will receive, sinners, this solemn truth regard, sinners, turn; why will ye die, so fades the lovely, blooming flower, softly fades the twilight ray, softly now the light of day, soldiers of christ are we, soldiers of christ! arise, soldiers of the cross! arise, so let our lips and lives express, sometimes a light surprises, soon may the last glad song arise, soon the evening shadows falling, so tender, so precious, sowing in the morning, sow in the morn thy seed, spirit divine! attend our prayers, spirit of power, and truth and love, stand up, and bless the lord, stand up, stand up for jesus, stay, thou insulted spirit, stay, sun of my soul, thou savior dear, sweet hour of prayer, sweet is the work, my god! my king, sweet the moments rich in blessing, take me, oh, my father, take me, take my heart, dear jesus, take my life and let it be, talk with us, lord, thyself reveal, thank and praise jehovah's name, that awful day will surely come, that dreadful night, before his death, the cross, the cross, the blood-stained cross, the door of salvation is open wide, the evening shades are falling, the head, that once was crowned with thorns, the heathen perish; day by day, the lord descended from above, the lord is king! child of the dust, the lord is now rejected, the lord is risen indeed, the lord my shepherd is, the lord, our god, is full of might, the lord's our rock, in him we hide, the morning kindles all the sky, the morning light is breaking, the morning purples all the sky, the pity of the lord, the race that long in darkness pine, there are lonely hearts to cherish, there is a fountain filled with blood, there is a god--all nature speaks, there is a land of pure delight, there is a line by us unseen, there is a name i love to hear, there is an hour of peaceful rest, there is a spot to me more dear, there is no flock, however watched, there's a glorious kingdom waiting, there's a land that is fairer than day, there's a stranger at the door, there's a wideness in god's mercy, there shall be showers of blessing, the sands of time are wasting, the savior bids thee watch and pray, the solemn service now is done, this is not my place of resting, thou! whose almighty word, thy law is perfect, lord of light, thy way, o god, is in the sea, thy presence, gracious god, afford, thy will be done! in devious way, till he come! oh, let the word, 'tis grace, 'tis grace, 'tis wonderful grace, 'tis midnight; and on olive's brow, 'tis the promise of god, 'tis thine alone, almighty name, to-day the savior calls, to thee, my god and savior, triumphant zion! lift thy head, 'twas on that dark, that dreadful night, unfurl the temperance banner, unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb, vain are the hopes the sons of men, wake, wake the song! our glad, walk in the light! so shall thou know, wayfarers in the wilderness, we are living, we are dwelling, we bless thee for thy peace, o god, we give thee but thine own, we have heard the joyful sound, we long to move and breathe in thee, we may not climb the heavenly steeps, we praise thee, o god, for the son, we shall meet beyond the river, welcome, delightful morn, welcome, o savior! to my heart, welcome, sacred day of rest, welcome! sweet day of rest, what a friend we have in jesus, what grace, o lord, and beauty, shone, what means this glorious radiance, when i can read my title clear, when i view my savior bleeding, when i survey the wondrous cross, when jesus comes to reward his, when peace like a river, when the worn spirit wants repose, when thou, my righteous judge, shalt, when wounded sore, the stricken soul, while in sweet communion feeding, while shepherds watched their flocks, who'll be the next to follow jesus, why do we mourn departing friends, why do you wait, dear brother, why should our tears in sorrow flow, why should the children of a king, with joy we mediate the grace, with stately towers and bulwarks, with thine own pity savior, see, witness, ye men and angels! now, work, for the night is coming, would you lose your load of sin, ye servants of god, your master proclaim, yes, god is good; in earth and sky, yes, we trust the day is breaking, ye wretched, hungry, starving poor, yield not to temptation, zion, dreary and in anguish, zion stands with hills surrounded, file was produced from images generously made available by the library of congress.) slavery's passed away and other songs [transcriber's note: this file contains only the lyrics to the songs. to view music images, hear the music in .midi format, or download lilypond source code, see the html version of this e-text.] slavery's passed away. as sung in edward harrigan's drama, "pete." _words by edward harrigan._ _music by dave braham._ copyright, , by wm. a. pond & co. oh child come to me and just sit down by my knee, i'll tell that same old story just once more; of dark, clouded years, oh, so full of bitter tears, in those bondage days of long before the war. in rice-field and in cane, there the black man felt the pain, the driver's whip it cut him ev'ry day; our good lord above, with his never dying love, made that cruel, cruel slavery pass'd away. oh child, in those times then i liv'd among the pines, yes, in an old log cabin i was born; then i heard the moan when the mothers lost their own, in those bondage days, oh thank the lord they're gone. that iron chain and band they grow rusty in this land, no more the blood hound hold the slave at bay; so we bend the knee to the lord that made us free, for that cruel, cruel slavery pass'd away. oh i don't complain, it will never come again, so all our little children, black and brown; they ne'er can be sold for that yellow shining gold, for sweet freedom, child, she has put on her crown. she came here in the night, oh then might gave in to right, old abra'm lincoln brought about the stay; so shout hallelu--there's a lot of work to do, for that cruel, cruel slavery pass'd away. _chorus._ oh shout hallelujah, freedom ever rules the land, go bend your knee, black people for to pray; the shackle and the band has fell from the bondsman's hand, and that cruel, cruel slavery's pass'd away. ole shady. the song of the contraband. oh! yah! yah! darkies laugh wid me, for de white folks say ole shady's free, so don't you see dat de jubilee is a coming, coming, hail mighty day. chorus. den away, away, for i can't wait any longer, hooray, hooray, i'm going home. den away, away, for i can't wait any longer, hooray, hooray, i'm going home. oh, mass' got scared and so did his lady, dis chile breaks for ole uncle aby, _"open de gates out here's ole shady a coming, coming,"_ hail mighty day. _chorus._ good bye mass' jeff, good bye mis'r stephens, 'scuse dis niggah for takin his leavins, 'spect pretty soon you'll hear uncle abram's coming, coming, hail mighty day. _chorus._ good bye hard work wid never any pay, ise a gwine up north where the good folks say, dat white wheat bread and a dollar a day, are coming, coming, hail mighty day. _chorus._ oh, i've got a wife, and i've got a baby, living up yonder in lower _canady_,[a] won't dey laugh when dey see ole shady a coming, coming, hail mighty day. _chorus._ [footnote a: _canada._] the little log cabin on the hill. song and chorus words by arthur w. french. music by herbert hersey. copyrighted, , by john p. perry & co. 'twas many years ago i left de sunny south, to roam up north, de happy day dat i was free; from massa an' ole missus, too, and all de folks at home, whose faces now i neber more shall see; i'se trabeled night and day to see de dear old place once more; de cotton fields, de ribber, and de mill; but most of all, where i was born, in happy days before, in de little log cabin on de hill! oh, i remember ebry day, when all our work was o'er, we'd hear de bones' and banjos' sweet refrain, while all de darkies danc'd and swung around de cabin door; dem happy times will neber come again; we'd hunt de possum and de coon until de mornin' fair, an' laugh and shout, so gay and jolly still; such joyous, happy darkies, an' we had no tho't of care, in de little log cabin on de hill! upon de ole plantation there is no one left i know; de folks are wand'ring all so far away, an' strangers meet me ebrywhere, yes, ebrywhere i go! but round dis ole place ise a-goin' to stay; dar's one spot left, they say, where i can evermore remain; dar kindness makes my poor heart throb and thrill; ise growin' ole and weary, so i'll neber roam again from de little log cabin on de hill! chorus. oh de little log cabin, yes, de cabin on de hill; it's standing there, the same old cabin still; 'neath de dear old roof i'll lie, an' i'll lay me down an' die, in de little log cabin on de hill. darkey sam. song and chorus. arr. by j. young, esq. oh my name is darkey sam, and i'se a black-eyed contraband; down on de chickahominee i was born; but old massa run away, when de linkum sogers play: so, i started for de norf in de morn.... i soon met wid a man, and he took me by de hand, and he brought me to de bobolition meetin: dar de brudders made a speech, and de sisters 'gan to preach; dey said dat my complexion was light, and de world dey would teach what a point dey could reach, and dey'd show dat dey could wash de nigger white. chorus. i soon met wid a man, and he took me by de hand, and he brought me to de bobolition meetin: dar de brudders made a speech, and de sisters 'gan to preach: dey said dey could wash de nigger white. dey got me very soon, and dey put me in a room: dis nigger couldn't tell what dey was after; dey took off all my clothes, and den what does you suppose? dey put me in a tub of boilin' water! and den dey got around, and some scrubbin'-brushes found, and said dey'd wash me whiter dan paper. oh! dey got me in a tub, and dey all began to rub: i tell you it was a pretty sight! for, some put on de soap. and de oders dey did scrub, but dey found dey couldn't wash de nigger white. de next thing dey done for to make de color run, dey began to rub me wid sand paper: oh! dey nearly killed me dead, but dey only made me red: i tell you it was an awful caper! den dey whitewashed me so slick, but de lime it wouldn't stick: i, golly! i was just as black as ever! den dey got a lot of hay, and dey rubbed and scrubbed away: oh! dey kept at it all dat night; but den dey found, next day, dat de job it wouldn't pay, 'kase dey neber could wash de nigger white. when i found dat dey was tired, says i: gemmen list to me, and you will find dat i am a right, man; de nigger will be nigger, till de day of jubilee; for, he nebber was intended for a white man; den just skedaddle home, leave de colored man alone; for, you're only makin trouble in de nation; you may fight, and you may muss, you may make a heap of fuss, but you nebber will make tings right, until you all agree for to let de nigger be: 'kase you'll neber, neber, neber wash him white. [transcriber's note: the html version of this e-text includes all songs in two forms: .pdf (image), and midi (sound). some sites will allow you to download these files individually; if so, look in the "files" directory associated with the html text. text in brackets such as [inner circle] was added by the transcriber where changed text format created ambiguity. all references to "permission", "copyright" and similar are from the original text. they are retained solely for informational purposes.] dramatized rhythm plays mother goose and traditional by john n. richards, b.p.e. assistant supervisor of physical education newark, n.j. new york a. s. barnes and company copyright, , by a. s. barnes and company _this book is fully protected by copyright and nothing that appears in it may be reprinted or reproduced in any manner, either wholly or in part, for any use whatever, without special written permission of the copyright owner._ +printed in the united states of america+ preface the following rhythmic plays compiled by mr. john n. richards of the newark department of physical education have been devised to meet the needs in the transition of physical education activities between the kindergarten and the first few years of the primary school. the physiologist tells us that the nervous organism of early childhood is injured by the strain of strict, immobile attention required in formal gymnastics. therefore it is wise to hold the child's interest and attention by means of dramatized nursery plays. these make little strain on mental application and the child is able to dramatize in motion the words and music which are planned to develop his motor co-ordination. in this way the child is gradually and interestingly led from the freedom of expression, characteristic of babyhood to the more specialized formal activities of the third and fourth years in the school. mr. richards' contribution merits widespread usage because he has clearly and definitely described his rhythm plays so that the classroom teacher can easily make use of them without having to draw on her imagination or having to guess at the written explanation. the book should be useful and welcomed too, not only by the classroom teacher but also by the specialist and supervisor of physical education. randall d. warden director of physical education, newark, n.j., public schools introduction the young people of to-day are most fortunate in their opportunities and advantages. the home, the school, the shop, social life and play offer increasing fields for service. the ever increasing number of problems which must be faced, in this reconstruction period of our nation's life, demands leaders of broad intellect, clear vision and sound judgment. coupled with these qualifications there must be developed a moral earnestness which will make for better citizenship. the trend of society movement is undoubtedly toward congested city life. there is lamentable lack of playgrounds and properly equipped gymnasiums. the school buildings are crowded to capacity and there is a rush and hurry of life which challenges the attention of all educators who are interested in the physical well-being of children. the priceless assets of our communities are the boys and girls who are growing into manhood and womanhood. we should spare neither expense nor energy in fitting them physically, mentally and spiritually for the great problems which will all too soon be theirs. exercise habits and a spirit of fair play must be a part of their training from the early school days. there is no better way of inculcating these lessons than through story plays and games during their first school years. the material contained in this book is practical. the exercise movements have been set to music which is popular both in the schools and in the homes. it is carefully graded and should prove to be of great assistance to the teachers in the lower grades. it tends to bridge over the gap between the kindergarten and the primary grade activities. there is need for a manual of this type in our physical training literature and it is hoped that this material will be used generally throughout the schools of our country. f. w. maroney, m.d. director of physical education and medical inspection atlantic city, n.j., public schools acknowledgments the author wishes to express his thanks to f. w. maroney, m.d., formerly director of physical education of the state of new jersey and now director of physical education and medical inspection of the public schools of atlantic city, n.j., for the introduction. to mr. randall d. warden, director of physical education, public schools, newark, n.j., for the preface. special acknowledgment and thanks are due miss a. e. barth of the charlton street school, newark, n.j., for her contribution of "rhythm plays" and to miss louise westwood, director of music, newark public schools, as hereinafter stated. thanks are also due to mcloughlin bros. for permission to use the words and music of the following songs found in j. w. elliott's book entitled, "nursery rhymes, set to music": little jack horner see saw, marjory daw dickory, dickory, dock sing a song of sixpence humpty dumpty to d. appleton & company for permission to use the words and music of the following songs found in "songs the whole world sings": rock-a-bye, baby little boy blue to miss lydia clark, author of "physical training for elementary schools," and to b. h. sanborn & company, for permission to use the words and music of the following songs: where has my little dog gone? baa, baa, black sheep looby loo j. n. richards alphabetical index _aisles of classroom_ page bye o baby bunting bean porridge dickory, dickory, dock, st and nd verses , diddle, diddle, dumpling fly away jack and jill humpty dumpty hey, diddle, diddle jack be nimble, no. jack be nimble, no. jack and jill little jack horner little miss muffet little boy blue pat-a-cake rock-a-bye, baby ride a cock-horse sing a song of sixpence, st and nd verses , see saw, marjory daw the band wee willie winkie where has my little dog gone? yankee doodle, verse and chorus _circle_ page baa, baa, black sheep bean porridge dapple grey dickory, dickory, dock fly away jack and jill jack and jill little jack horner little miss muffet looby loo pop goes the weasel, verse and chorus sing a song of sixpence, st and nd verses gradation index _first grade_ aisle page . the band . little jack horner . rock-a-bye baby . jack be nimble, no. . humpty dumpty . dickory, dickory, dock, st and nd verses , . little miss muffet . jack and jill . bye o baby bunting . little boy blue . wee willie winkie . jack be nimble, no. circle page . little jack horner . little miss muffet . jack and jill . dickory, dickory, dock _second grade_ aisle page . hey, diddle, diddle . where has my little dog gone? . ride a cock-horse . yankee doodle, verse and chorus . pat-a-cake . bean porridge . fly away jack and jill . sing a song of sixpence, st and nd verses , . diddle, diddle, dumpling . see saw, marjory daw circle page . looby loo . baa, baa, black sheep . bean porridge . fly away jack and jill _third grade_ circle page . dapple grey . pop goes the weasel, verse and chorus . sing a song of sixpence, st and nd verses index of progression _aisles of classroom_ page . the band (file alignment) . little jack horner " " . rock-a-bye, baby " " . jack be nimble, no. " " . humpty dumpty " " . dickory, dickory, dock, st and nd verses " " , . little miss muffet " " . jack and jill " " . bye o baby bunting " " . little boy blue " " . wee willie winkie " " . jack be nimble, no. " " . hey, diddle, diddle " " . where has my little dog gone? " " . ride a cock-horse " " . yankee doodle, verse and chorus " " . pat-a-cake (open line formation, partners facing) . bean porridge " " " " " . fly away jack and jill. " " " " . sing a song of sixpence, st and nd verses " " " " , . diddle, diddle, dumpling " " " . see saw, marjory daw. " " " " _circle_ (outer aisles of classroom) page . little jack horner . little miss muffet . jack and jill . dickory, dickory, dock . looby loo . baa, baa, black sheep . bean porridge . fly away jack and jill . dapple grey . pop goes the weasel, verse and chorus . sing a song of sixpence, st and nd verses suggestions for the teaching of the gymnastic activity . teach the words of the rhyme to the class, keeping in mind the rhythm. . if in presenting the action, the movement is based upon certain words as cues, present by imitation the activity as applied to the words, _i.e._, little jack horner; little miss muffet, etc. . if the movement is based on a time element (rhythm), present the activity content, line by line, _i.e._, yankee doodle; pat-a-cake, etc. . be sure the rhyme and activity has been thoroughly mastered before adding the song element. . if a dancing movement is involved, present same to the class as a unit before combining with other movements, _i.e._, fly away jack and jill; diddle, diddle, dumpling, etc. _the author wishes to express thanks to miss louise westwood, director of music of the newark public schools, for the following suggestions as to the teaching of the song element:_ _ . pitch-pipes:_ no song under any condition should be sung without the pitch of the first word being given; using the pitch-pipe to get the key in which the song is written. _ . range of songs:_ all songs should be sung not lower than the first line e or higher than the fifth line f of the staff. if songs are scored in another range, transpose the song by changing the pitch of the _first_ word. _ . quality of tone:_ all singing should be in a soft, light, head tone. half-tone quality. _no loud singing should be allowed at any time._ procedure in teaching . teach the rhyme. . combine rhyme with the gymnastic activity. . teach the song. . combine no. , no. and no. . commands used to present the gymnastic activity and song . determine key in which the song is written and find starting note. . teacher sounds keynote of first syllable or word. command:-- pitch-- sing! _examples:_ (_a_) yankee doodle. the first syllable of the word, "yankee," which is "yank," is sung to establish the pitch. (_b_) oh, where, oh where has my little dog gone? the first word, "oh," is sung to establish the pitch. . in order to insure united action, the following command is used: ready-- begin! rhythmic steps _ . the point step, forward:_ point foot forward with outside edge of toes touching the floor; the heel is raised and turned inward toward the other foot. (no weight transference, the weight being on the stationary foot.) _ . closing step, sideward:_ step sideward, right, maintaining the weight equally to both feet ( ). close left foot to right ( ). note.-- counterlike for movement in the forward and backward direction. _ . chasse or gliding step, sideward:_ raise heels and slide sideward, right, immediately closing left to right. a light, quick movement requiring only one count for completion. _ . step throw or step hop swing, sideward:_ step sideward, right ( ). hop on right, and swing left leg diagonally forward across ( ). (knee slightly flexed with ankle extended.) _ . schottische step, sideward:_ step sideward, right ( ). cross step left to rear of right ( ). step sideward, right ( ). hop on right, swinging left leg diagonally forward across ( ). (knee slightly flexed with ankle extended.) _ . two step or change step, forward:_ step forward, right ( ). close left instep to right heel (and) step forward, right ( ). _ . the step dip, sideward:_ step sideward, right, with transference of body weight to the right foot ( ). place left toe behind right heel (heel raised) with the knee turned sideward (and) bend and stretch right knee slightly with trunk bending sideward, left ( ). hand clapping occurs on counts _one_ and _two_. _ . encircle to left with partner kneeling._ (_partners._) _stationary pupil._-- pupil extends leg backward, lowering knee to floor. the trunk is erect; left hand on hip with the right arm stretched upward, supporting encircling partner's left hand. _dancing pupil._-- the encircling pupil grasps with the left hand the kneeling partner's right hand and performs the dance movement in given direction. diagrammatic formations [all diagrams are in the "files" directory associated with the html version of this e-text. they are named in the form "page a ".] classroom [illustration: standing in the right aisle facing front of room. six rows of seats; six pupils per row.] classroom [illustration: standing in the right aisle in open line formation, partners facing. seven rows of seats; six pupils per row. note:-- when executing partner plays, children in extreme row on the right (odd row) form in partner formation in open area.] circular single [illustration: facing, line of direction. _counter-clockwise_] [illustration: facing, inward.] [illustration: facing, reverse line of direction. _clockwise_] double [illustration: facing, line of direction.] [illustration: facing, reverse line of direction.] [illustration: partner formation, facing each other.] * * * * * * * * * classroom aisle alignment:-- single and partner formation. [transcriber's note: the above line was printed in the center of an empty page. it was probably intended that teachers use the blank space to draw in their own classroom arrangement.] note:-- may also be used to advantage in any open area or gymnasium with exception of several in the first grade which are essentially classroom in type. (desks are used as part of the rhythmic action.) * * * * * * * * * the band [music: oh i can play on a big bass drum, and this is the way i do it. boom, boom, boom goes the big bass drum, boom, boom, boom goes the big bass drum, and this is the way i do it.] description +miss a. e. barth.+ formation;-- children seated in their seats. st line;-- oh i can play on a big bass drum, interpretation;-- no activity. nd line;-- and this is the way i do it. inter.;-- no activity. rd line;-- boom, boom, boom goes the big bass drum, inter.;-- beat hands vigorously upon top of desks, suiting action to the words. th line;-- boom, boom, boom goes the big bass drum. inter.;-- repeat the activity of the third line. th line;-- and this is the way i do it. inter.;-- repeat the activity of the fourth line. introduce the following activities, suiting the action to the words in imitation of the suggested activity. little snare drum ("trum") big brass horn ("toot") little gay flute ("whistle") [illustration: oh i can play on a big brass horn] little jack horner _permission to use words and music:-- mcloughlin bros._ +j. w. elliott+ [music: little jack horner sat in a corner, eating a christmas pie; he put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum, and said, "what a good boy am i!" nice plum! nice plum! nice plum! nice plum!] description +miss a. e. barth+ formation;-- children remain seated and move to the right side of seat. st line;-- little jack horner sat in a corner, interpretation;-- upon the word, "sat," pupils move to the left side of seat. nd line;-- eating a christmas pie; inter.;-- upon the word, "eating," pupils encircle imaginary plate with the left arm and imitate eating with the right hand. rd line;-- he put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum, inter.;-- upon the word, "put," pupil imitates the action of putting thumb in pie and pulling out a plum, making the action vigorous upon the word, "pulled," stretching the arm overhead. looks at the plum. th line;-- and said, "what a good boy am i!" inter.;-- proudly pats the chest with the left hand. conclusion;-- nice plum! nice plum! nice plum! nice plum! inter.;-- lowers plum until it disappears in the mouth, imitating eating, tapping his chest the while. [illustration: he put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum] rock-a-bye, baby _permission to use words and music:-- d. appleton and co._ [music: rockabye, baby in the tree top, when the wind blows the cradle will rock; when the bough breaks the cradle will fall, and down will come baby cradle and all.] description +miss a. e. barth+ formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention. st line;-- rock-a-bye, baby in the tree top, interpretation;-- hold baby in the arms, looking down at it, and sway gently to and fro. (right; left; right and left.) nd line;-- when the wind blows the cradle will rock; inter.;-- rock more vigorously. rd line;-- when the bough breaks the cradle will fall, inter.;-- upon the word, "breaks," children clap hands overhead-- partially dropping the baby. th line;-- and down will come baby, cradle and all. inter.;-- upon the word, "down," children spring into the air and immediately assume deep knee bending position. position. [illustration: rocking the baby] jack be nimble-- no. arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: jack be nimble, jack be quick; jack jump'd over the candle stick.] description +miss a. e. barth+ formation;-- standing in the right aisle with hands on hips. st line;-- jack be nimble, jack be quick; interpretation;-- marking time, in place. (seven counts.) nd line;-- jack jumped over the candle stick. inter.;-- upon the word, "jumped," the children face to the left and vault over their own seats; finish facing the front of room with hands on hips. repeat rhyme and activity back to former aisle. [illustration: jack jumped over the candle stick] jack be nimble-- no. music-- _see jack be nimble-- no. _ description formation;-- standing in the right aisle with hands on hips. st line;-- jack be interpretation;-- with a jump execute / turn to the left. nimble inter.;-- with a jump execute / turn to the right. (front.) nd line;-- jack be inter.;-- with a jump execute / turn to the right. quick; inter.;-- with a jump execute / turn to the left. (front.) rd line;-- jack inter.;-- one-quarter turn to the left, placing hands on the near edge of desk and back of seat, bending knees slightly. jumped over inter.;-- vault over the seat; replace hands to hips and execute / turn to the right (front.) th line;-- the candle stick. inter.;-- mark time, in place, three counts. (left; right and left.) repeat back to original position. humpty dumpty _permission to use words and music:-- mcloughlin bros._ +j. w. elliott+ [music: humpty dumpty sat on a wall, humpty dumpty had a great fall; all the king's horses and all the king's men, couldn't put humpty dumpty together again.] description +miss a. e. barth+ formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention. st line;-- humpty dumpty sat on a wall, interpretation;-- upon the word, "sat," pupils sit upon own desks; feet hanging in aisle. nd line;-- humpty dumpty had a great fall; inter.;-- upon the word, "fall," pupils jump into the right aisles; bending knees deeply, facing the front of the room. rd line;-- all the king's horses and all the king's men, inter.;-- assume position of attention with arms stretched forward holding imaginary reins, at the same time "marking time" (ten counts), raising knees waist high. th line;-- couldn't put humpty dumpty together again. inter.;-- shaking the head in sorrow; right, left, right and front. hands are placed upon hips during this movement. [illustration: humpty dumpty sat on a wall] dickory, dickory, dock _first verse_ _permission to use words and music:-- mcloughlin bros._ +j. w. elliott+ [music: dickory, dickory, dock; the mouse ran up the clock; the clock struck, one. the mouse ran down; dickory, dickory, dock.] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention. st line;-- dickory, dickory, dock; interpretation;-- hands clasped overhead; swaying right, left and erect. nd line;-- the mouse ran up the clock; inter.;-- upon the word, "ran," stand in own seats with the arms stretched sideward. rd line;-- the clock struck, one, inter.;-- upon the word, "one," clap hands overhead and lower arms sideward. the mouse ran down; inter.;-- upon the word, "ran," jump into the left aisle with hands clasped overhead. th line;-- dickory, dickory, dock. inter.;-- swaying right, left and erect. repeat activity to the right, bringing all pupils back to former aisles. [illustration: the pendulum] _second verse-- music on page _ description formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention. st line;-- dickory, dickory, dock, interpretation;-- hands clasped overhead; swaying right, left and erect. nd line;-- "why scamper," said the clock. inter.;-- place hands on hips; execute six running steps forward. (seven counts.) (left; right; left; right; left; right; close left to right, completing the movement.) rd line;-- you scared inter.;-- execute / turn right about. me so, i'll have to go; inter.;-- execute three running steps forward. (four counts.) (left; right; left, and close right to left, completing the movement.) th line;-- dickory, dickory, dock. inter.;-- hands clasped overhead; swaying right, left and erect. repeat to bring the class back to the original position. little miss muffet arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: little miss muffet sat on a tuffet, eating of curds and whey, along came a spider and sat down beside her; and frighten'd miss muffet away. dear me! dear me! dear me! dear me!] description +miss a. e. barth+ formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention. alternate aisles act as miss muffet; other aisles act as the spider. (count off from left flank by twos. no. -- miss muffet. no. -- the spider.) st line;-- little miss muffet sat on a tuffet, eating of curds and whey. interpretation;-- upon the word, "sat," little miss muffet climbs into her own seat, faces back of room and sits upon the right side of desk. hold imaginary plate in left arm and imitate eating. nd line;-- along came a spider inter.;-- upon the word, "along," the spider hastens over own seat and miss muffet's aisle; climbs upon seat and sits with miss muffet. rd line;-- and sat down beside her; inter.;-- completion of second line activity. th line;-- and frighten'd miss muffet away. inter.;-- upon the word, "frighten'd," children return to own seats. upon returning to their own seats the children sing-- dear me! dear me! dear me! dear me! [illustration: along came a spider (spiders vaulting seats)] jack and jill arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: jack and jill went up the hill, to fetch a pail of water; jack fell down and broke his crown, and jill came tumbling after, boohoo! boohoo! boohoo! boohoo!] description +miss a. e. barth+ formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention. alternate aisles act as jack. (girls and boys.) other aisles act as jill. (girls and boys.) count off from left flank by twos. no. -- jill. no. -- jack. st line;-- jack and jill went up the hill, interpretation;-- upon the word, "up," jack and jill take hold of hands and climb into same seats. (the climbing of the hill.) nd line;-- to fetch a pail of water; inter.;-- no activity. rd line;-- jack fell down and broke his crown, inter.;-- upon the word, "fell," jack falls (jumps) into own aisle, bends knees, deeply covering his face with his hands, imitating crying. th line;-- and jill came tumbling after. inter.;-- upon the word, "tumbling," jill falls (jumps) into the same aisle as jack; bends knees, deeply covering her face with her hands, imitating crying. upon completion of the song all children return to their own seats, singing-- boo-hoo! boo-hoo! boo-hoo! boo-hoo! [illustration: jack and jill went up the hill] bye o baby bunting arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: bye o baby bunting, daddy's gone a-hunting; to fetch a little rabbit skin to wrap the baby bunting in.] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention. st line;-- bye o interpretation;-- hold the baby in the arms, looking down at it, and sway gently to the right. baby- inter.;-- sway gently to the left. bunt- inter.;-- sway gently to the right. ing inter.;-- assume stationary position. nd line;-- daddy's gone a-hunting; inter.;-- mark time, in place, seven counts; carry gun over the right shoulder (flex right arm; place hand on shoulder with fingers clenched, forefinger extended to represent barrel of gun.) rd line;-- to fetch a little rabbit skin inter.;-- kneel on left knee and extend the right arm forward, representing the aiming of a gun. (fingers of the right hand clenched, with forefinger extended; left hand resting on right upper arm.) th line;-- to wrap the baby bunting in. inter.;-- assume erect position; bend forward and encircle body with arms and return hands to hips upon completion of the sentence. [illustration: aiming the gun] little boy blue _permission to use words and music:-- d. appleton and co._ [music: little boy blue, come blow up your horn, there's sheep in the meadow and cows in the corn; where is the boy that looks after the sheep? he's under the haycock fast asleep.] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention with hands on hips. st line;-- little boy blue, come blow up your horn, interpretation;-- mark time, in place. (four counts.) upon the word, "blow," hands clenched, elbows raised high, imitate the blowing of the horn. finish with hands on hips. nd line;-- there's sheep in the meadow and cows in the corn; inter.;-- upon the word, "sheep," point to the right and look in direction pointed. upon the word, "cows," replace right hand to hip; point to the left and look in direction pointed. finish with hands on hips and eyes front. rd line;-- where is the boy that looks after the sheep? inter.;-- upon the word, "where," shade the eyes with the right hand and look to the right. upon the word, "looks," replace right hand to hip; shade the eyes with the left hand and look to the left. finish with left hand on hip and eyes front. th line;-- he's under the haycock fast asleep. inter.;-- upon the word, "under," resume seats and lower head to desks upon folded arms. [illustration: there's sheep in the meadow] wee willie winkie arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: wee willie winkie runs thru the town, upstairs and downstairs in his nightgown; rapping at the window, crying thru the lock:-- are all the children in their beds? now 'tis eight o'clock.] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle with hands on hips. st line;-- wee willie winkie runs through the town, interpretation;-- mark time, in place. (knees waist high.) (seven counts.) nd line;-- upstairs and inter.;-- heels raised. downstairs inter.;-- bend knees deeply. in his night- inter.;-- stretch knees, lower heels and bow. gown; inter.;-- assume erect position. rd line;-- rapping at the window, inter.;-- with hands clenched, stretch arms upward and tap imaginary window. (four times.) crying through the lock:-- inter.;-- cup hands and carry to mouth as if calling, bending knees deeply. th line;-- "are all the children inter.;-- turn head to the right. in their beds? inter.;-- turn head to the left. now 'tis eight o'clock." inter.;-- stretch the knees and lower heels. hey, diddle, diddle arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: hey, diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jump'd over the moon; the little dog laughed to see such sport, and the dish ran away with the spoon.] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention with hands on hips. st line;-- hey, diddle, diddle, interpretation;-- mark time, in place, five counts. the cat and inter.;-- imitate the action of playing the fiddle. one upward stroke of the bow. the fiddle, inter.;-- one downward stroke of the bow. nd line;-- the cow inter.;-- turn to the left; place hands on edge of desk and back of seat and bend knees slightly. jumped over inter.;-- vault over the seat. the moon; inter.;-- turn to the right (front); stretch knees, lower heels and place hands on hips. rd line;-- the little dog laughed to see inter.;-- bend trunk forward, hugging self, imitating great hilarity. such sport, inter.;-- assume erect position with hands on hips. th line;-- and the dish ran away with the spoon. inter.;-- execute a complete turn to the right with seven running steps, terminating action upon the word, "spoon." stamp feet twice, in place, at the completion of the entire activity. where has my little dog gone? _permission to use words and music:-- miss lydia clark and benj. h. sanborn & co._ arr. by +fannie robertson+ [music: oh where, oh where has my little dog gone? oh where, oh where has he gone? with his tail cut short and his ears cut long, oh where, oh where has he gone?] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention with hands on hips. st line;-- oh where, interpretation;-- shade eyes with the right hand and with a jump execute / turn to the right. oh where inter.;-- with a jump execute / turn to the left. (front.) has my little inter.;-- with a jump execute / turn to the left. dog gone? inter.;-- with a jump execute / turn to the right. (front.) nd line;-- oh where inter.;-- replace right hand to hip; shade eyes with the left hand and with a jump execute / turn to the left. oh where inter.;-- with a jump execute / turn to the right (front.) has he g- inter.;-- with a jump execute / turn to the right. one? inter.;-- with a jump execute / turn to the left (front.) rd line;-- with his tail cut short and his ears cut long, inter.;-- upon the word, "tail," bend forward, placing hands behind back (palms together; fingers extended.) upon the words, "and his," assume erect position with hands at sides. upon the word, "ears," raise arms sideward, placing thumbs in ears (fingers extended.) th line;-- oh where, inter.;-- replace left hand to hip; shade eyes with the right hand and with a jump execute / turn right about. oh where has he inter.;-- with a jump execute / turn right about. (front.) gone? inter.;-- replace right hand to hip, bow and assume erect position. [illustration: looking for the dog] ride a cock-horse arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: ride a cock-horse to banbury cross, to see a fine lady upon a white horse, rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, she shall have music wherever she goes.] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention with hands on hips. st line;-- ride a cock-horse to banbury cross, interpretation;-- stretch arms forward, holding imaginary reins; bending and stretching knees. (three times.) nd line;-- to see a fine lady upon a white horse, inter.;-- replace left hand to hip; shade the eyes with the right hand and rotate the body to the right upon the word, "to." replace the right hand to hip; shade the eyes with the left hand and rotate the body to the left upon the word, "upon." replace the left hand to hip and turn the body forward upon the word, "horse." rd line;-- rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, inter.;-- raise arms forward, palms forward, fingers and thumbs extended upon the word, "rings." bend the trunk slightly forward and lower arms (palms forward), looking at the toes, upon the word, "bells." assume erect position with hands on hips, upon the word, "toes." th line;-- she shall have music wherever she goes. inter.;-- wave the baton with the right hand (forefinger extended; thumb and remaining fingers clenched) to the left, right, left, right and left, upon the words, "she shall have music." (five counts.) replace the right hand to hip, bow and assume erect position upon the words, "wherever she goes." [illustration: the salute (_see page _)] [illustration: the riding of the horse] yankee doodle [music: yankee doodle came to town, a riding on a pony, he stuck a feather in his hat, and called it macaroni. yankee doodle, ha! ha! ha! yankee doodle dandy; mind the music and your step and round the house be handy.] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention with hands on hips. verse st line;-- yankee doodle came to town, interpretation;-- children mark time, in place. (seven counts.) nd line;-- a riding on a pony, inter.;-- stretching arms forward as if holding imaginary reins; bend and stretch knees (four times), finishing with hands on hips. rd line;-- he stuck a feather in his hat, inter.;-- upon the word, "stuck," take off the hat with the left hand and upon the word, "in," insert the feather. finish with hands on hips. th line;-- and called it macaroni. inter.;-- mark time, in place. (eight counts.) chorus st line;-- yankee doodle, inter.;-- mark time, in place. (four counts.) ha! ha! ha! inter.;-- clap hands, three times. finish with hands on hips. nd line;-- yankee doodle inter.;-- mark time, in place. (four counts.) dandy. inter.;-- bow and assume erect position. rd line;-- mind the music inter.;-- wave the baton with right hand (forefinger extended) left, right, left and right. (four counts.) finish with hands on hips. and your step inter.;-- mark time, in place. (three counts.) th line;-- and round the house be handy. inter.;-- upon the word, "round," execute a half turn to the right about by jumping. upon the word, "house," execute a half turn to the right about by jumping. upon the word, "handy," jump, in place, three times and salute with the right hand. pat-a-cake arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man, stir it and stir it as fast as you can; roll it and prick it and mark it with "b," and put in the oven for baby and me.] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle at attention with hands on hips. count off by twos from left to right and have "ones" face to the right and "twos" face to the left. (open line formation; partners facing each other.) st line;-- pat-a-cake, interpretation;-- clap own hands three times. pat-a-cake, inter.;-- clap partner's hands three times. baker's man, inter.;-- hands hips; bow and assume erect position. nd line;-- stir it and stir it as fast as you can; inter.;-- hold imaginary bowl in the left arm (shoulder high), stirring with the right hand, increasing revolutions upon the word, "fast." upon the word, "can," the hands return to hips. rd line;-- roll it and prick it and mark it with "b"; inter.;-- upon the words, "roll it," raise hands (palms together; right hand on top) shoulder height, and roll it by a sliding movement. upon the words, "prick it," suit action to the words and prick cake, using forefinger of right hand, pressing same into left palm. upon the words, "mark it," join forefingers with thumbs, raising to eye height and form letter "b." (deaf and dumb alphabet.) th line;-- and put in the oven for baby and me. inter.;-- upon the word, "put," imitate the action of placing the cake in the oven by extending arms forward (palms up) and bending knees. assume erect position with hands on hips upon the word, "oven." upon the word, "baby," bow and assume erect position. upon the word, "me," raise the right arm (shoulder height) and place forefinger on chest. position. [illustration: pat-a-cake] bean porridge arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: bean porridge hot, bean porridge cold, bean porridge in the pot, nine days old; some like it hot, and some like it cold, some like it in the pot, nine days old.] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle in partner formation (open line formation; partners facing), with hands on hips. files numbered from the left flank by twos. no. ones face to the right; no. twos face to the left. st line;-- bean interpretation;-- clap hands to thighs. porridge inter.;-- clap own hands. hot, inter.;-- clap partner's hands. bean inter.;-- clap hands to thighs. porridge inter.;-- clap own hands. cold, inter.;-- clap partner's hands. nd line;-- bean inter.;-- clap hands to thighs. porridge inter.;-- clap own hands. in the inter.;-- with right hand clap partner's right hand. pot, inter.;-- clap own hands. nine inter.;-- with left hand clap partner's left hand. days inter.;-- clap own hands. old; inter.;-- clap partner's hands. description of pupil;-- number two. number one;-- counterlike. rd line;-- some inter.;-- clasp partner's hands and raise arms to shoulder height. step sideward right. like it inter.;-- close left to right. hot, and inter.;-- step dip, right. some inter.;-- step sideward left. like it inter.;-- close right to left. cold, inter.;-- step dip, left. th line;-- some inter.;-- face to the right; place right hand on hip, inner hands joined and raised shoulder height. step forward, right. like it inter.;-- step forward, left. in the inter.;-- step forward, right. pot, inter.;-- close left to right and place left hand on hip. nine days inter.;-- with a jump execute a half turn right about. old. inter.;-- with a jump execute a half turn right about. fly away jack and jill arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: two little blackbirds, sitting on a hill, one named jack, and the other named jill; fly away jack and fly away jill; come again jack and come again jill.] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle in partner formation (open line formation; partners facing each other); arms raised forward (shoulder height) and clasp partner's hands. note.-- if desk width is too great have pupils place hands on hips. "count off" from the left flank by twos. no. :-- jack. no. :-- jill. st line;-- two interpretation;-- left file (jack); step sideward, left. inter.;-- right file (jill); step sideward, right. little inter.;-- close right to left, inter.;-- close left to right. black- inter.;-- step sideward, left. inter.;-- step sideward, right. birds inter.;-- close right to left. inter.;-- close left to right. nd line;-- sitting inter.;-- left file (jack); stamp left. inter.;-- right file (jill); stamp right. on inter.;-- stamp right. inter.;-- stamp left. a hill, inter.;-- replace hands to hips and bend knees deeply. inter.;-- replace hands to hips and bend knees deeply. rd line;-- one named inter.;-- left file (jack); stretch knees and turn to the left. inter.;-- right file (jill); no activity. jack, inter.;-- bow and assume erect position. inter.;-- no activity. th line;-- and the inter.;-- no activity for either files. other named inter.;-- right file (jill); stretch knees and turn to the right. inter.;-- left file (jack); no activity. jill; inter.;-- bow and assume erect position. inter.;-- left file (jack); no activity. th line;-- fly away, jack inter.;-- left file (jack); face to the right and execute three chasses to the left. inter.;-- right file (jill); no activity. and fly away, jill, inter.;-- right file (jill); face to the left and execute three chasses to the right. inter.;-- left file (jack); no activity. th line;-- come again, jack inter.;-- left file (jack); three chasses to the right. inter.;-- right file (jill); no activity. and come again, jill. inter.;-- right file (jill); three chasses to the left. inter.;-- left file (jack); no activity. diddle, diddle dumpling [music: diddle, diddle dumpling, my son john; went to bed with his trousers on. one shoe off and one shoe on. diddle, diddle dumpling, my son john.] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle in partner formation. open line formation; partners facing each other; arms raised forward (shoulder height) and clasp partner's hands. note.-- if desk width is too great have pupils place hands on hips. note.-- description of movement of pupil facing to the left. movements of partner;-- reverse. st line;-- diddle, diddle dumpling, interpretation;-- step throw, right and left. (four counts.) my son john; inter.;-- stamp feet; right, left, right and hold. (four counts.) nd line;-- went to bed with his inter.;-- step throw, left and right. (four counts.) trousers on. inter.;-- replace left foot, bend knees deeply; lower arms with hands clenched. stretch knees, pulling trousers on and place hands on hips. (two counts per movement; four counts in all.) rd line;-- one shoe off and inter.;-- arms raised forward (shoulder height) and clasp partner's hands. step right sideward and close left to right and step throw, right. (schottische.) (four counts.) one shoe on, inter.;-- step left sideward and close right to left and step throw, left. (schottische.) (four counts.) th line;-- diddle, diddle inter.;-- jump, in place, once. (two counts.) dumpling inter.;-- jump, in place, once. (two counts.) my son john. inter.;-- jump, in place, three times and hold. (four counts.) [illustration: sing a song of sixpence (_see page _)] sing a song of sixpence _permission to use words and music:-- mcloughlin bros._ +j. w. elliot+ _ st verse._ [music: sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye; four and twenty blackbirds bak'd in a pie. when the pie was open'd, the birds began to sing; wasn't that a dainty dish to set before a king!] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle facing each other with hands on hips. (open line formation; partners facing each other.) st line;-- sing a song of sixpence, interpretation;-- step to the right, place left toe behind right heel, bending both knees slightly. repeat to the left. (cues:-- step and bend and step and bend.) nd line;-- a pocket full of rye; inter.;-- execute three slides to the right and bring heels together on the fourth count. (cues; slide, slide, slide and heels.) rd line;-- four and twenty blackbirds, inter.;-- repeat the activity of the first line, starting to the left. th line;-- bak'd in a pie. inter.;-- repeat activity of the second line to the left. th line;-- when the pie was open'd, inter.;-- pupils face forward; raise arms forward (shoulder height) in circle form and then extend sideward, imitating the opening of the pie. th line;-- the birds began to sing; inter.;-- fluttering of arms up and down, imitating the flying of birds. th line;-- wasn't that a dainty dish inter.;-- replace both hands to hips on the word, "dainty." upon the word, "dish," stretch the right hand forward as if holding the dish and nod the head in approval. th line;-- to set before a king! inter.;-- step sideward to the right, close feet and bow with arms stretched sideward. _ nd verse._ [music: the king was in the counting house, counting out his money; the queen was in the parlour, eating bread and honey; the maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes; there came a little dicky bird and popp'd upon her nose.] description formation;-- standing in the right aisle with hands on hips, facing the front of room. st line;-- the king interpretation;-- jump, in place, with a quarter turn to the right. was in inter.;-- jump, in place, with a quarter turn to the left. (front.) the counting inter.;-- place left foot in seat area. house, inter.;-- sit in seat. counting out his money; inter.;-- suit activity to words, holding imaginary coins in palm of left hand and count with the right hand. nd line;-- the queen inter.;-- stand in the right aisle; face to the left and immediately place hands in support on back of seat and edge of desk. was in inter.;-- vault over seat, (upon completion of vault, the hands assume normal position.) the parlour, inter.;-- face to the right; place right foot in seat area and become seated. eating bread and honey; inter.;-- suit activity to words, encircling imaginary plate with left arm and imitate eating with the right hand. rd line;-- the maid inter.;-- place right foot in right aisle. was in inter.;-- stand in right aisle and place hands on hips. the garden, inter.;-- bow and assume erect position. hanging inter.;-- bend trunk forward downward; stretch arms downward, grasping clothes. out inter.;-- raise trunk, stretch arms upward and grasp imaginary clothesline. the clothes; inter.;-- using right hand, take clothes-pin out of mouth and pin clothes on the line. th line;-- there came a little dicky bird, inter.;-- replace hands to hips and mark time, in place. (left, right, left and right.) and popped inter.;-- jump, in place, and clap hands once. upon her inter.;-- replace hands to hips; step right sideward and close left to right. nose! inter.;-- bow and assume erect position. see saw, marjory daw _permission to use words and music:-- mcloughlin bros._ +j. w. elliott+ [music: seesaw, marjory daw, jack shall have a new master, he shall have but a penny a day, because he won't work any faster.] description formation;-- arrange class so that three aisles may work together. center aisle;-- jump to stride stand with arms raised sideward. outer aisles;-- face the center and grasp with both hands the outstretched hand of pupil in center. the center player acts as the board; outer players as riders. st line;-- see saw, marjory daw, interpretation;-- center activity;-- pupil bends trunk to the right, left, right and left. outer aisles;-- when center pupils bend to the right, the children on the right act as riders on board, bending and stretching knees. in reversing the movement, similar activity for those on the left. nd line;-- jack shall have a new master, inter.;-- center and outer aisles activity;-- continue movement as described for the first line, finishing in erect position with hands on hips. rd line;-- he shall have but a penny a day, inter.;-- outer aisles;-- placing left hand to right elbow, shake index finger three times upon the words, "he shall have"; repeat motion with the left hand upon the words, "but a penny a day." finish with hands on hips. center activity;-- nod to the right upon the words, "he shall have"; assume erect position and nod to the left upon the words, "but a penny a day." finish with hands on hips. th line;-- because he won't work any faster. inter.;-- repeat activity of first line. (center and outer aisles.) * * * * * * * * * _circle_ (outer aisles of classroom or in open area.) [transcriber's note: the above lines are printed in the middle of a blank page, similar to the "classroom" page earlier.] note.-- the following rhythm plays are suitable to any open area. * * * * * * * * * little jack horner _permission to use words and music:-- mcloughlin bros._ arr. by +j. w. elliott+ [music: little jack horner sat in a corner, eating a christmas pie; he put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum, and said, "what a good boy am i!" nice plum! nice plum! nice plum! nice plum!] description formation;-- single circle formation facing line of direction with hands on hips. st line;-- little interpretation;-- step forward, right. jack horner inter.;-- step forward, left. sat in a inter.;-- step forward, right, turn to the left, closing left foot to right foot. corner, inter.;-- bend knees deeply. nd line;-- eating a christmas pie; inter.;-- upon the word, "eating," children encircle imaginary plate with the left arm and imitate eating with the right hand. rd line;-- he put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum, inter.;-- upon the word, "put," children imitate the action of putting thumb in pie and pulling out a plum, making the action vigorous upon the word, "pulled," stretching the arm overhead. look at plum. th line;-- and said, "what a good boy am i!" inter.;-- proudly pats the chest with the left hand. conclusion;-- nice plum! nice plum! nice plum! nice plum! inter.;-- lowers plum to mouth, imitating eating, tapping the chest the while. [illustration: the spider frightening miss muffet (_see page _)] little miss muffet arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: little miss muffet sat on a tuffet, eating of curds and whey, along came a spider and sat down beside her; and frighten'd miss muffet away.] description formation;-- double circle formation facing line of direction with hands on hips. inner circle:-- the spider. outer circle:-- miss muffet. suggestion;-- in so far as possible have the boys form the inner circle and the girls the outer circle. st line;-- little miss muffet sat on a interpretation;-- outer circle (miss muffet); starting with the right foot execute three steps in line of direction. (right; left; right and close left to right.) inter.;-- inner circle (spider); no activity. tuffet, inter.;-- [outer circle] bend knees deeply. eating of curds and whey, inter.;-- hold imaginary plate in the left hand (palm up) and imitate eating. hands are replaced to hips upon the completion of the word, "whey." inter.;-- inner circle (spider); no activity. nd line;-- along came a spider inter.;-- outer circle (miss muffet); no activity. inter.;-- inner circle (spider); starting with the left foot execute five running steps in line of direction. (this should bring partners together.) rd line;-- and inter.;-- inner circle (spider); bend knees slightly. sat down beside her; inter.;-- [inner circle] spring upward and upon return bend knees deeply and face partner. raise hands, fingers extended and flexed. (eye height.) and sat down beside her; inter.;-- outer circle (miss muffet); turns head to the left, holds hands in position to ward off attack of the spider. th line;-- and frighten'd miss muffet away. inter.;-- outer circle (miss muffet); place hands on hips; stretch knees and with six running steps encircle the spider and return to place. inter.;-- inner circle (spider); no activity. jack and jill arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: jack and jill went up the hill, to fetch a pail of water; jack fell down and broke his crown, and jill came tumbling after. boohoo! boohoo! boohoo! boohoo!] description formation;-- double circle formation. children bend knees deeply; place outside hand on hip and clasp partner's hand. inner circle:-- jill. outer circle:-- jack. st line;-- jack and jill went up the hill, interpretation;-- starting with the left foot marching in line of direction execute three steps, closing right foot to left upon completion of movement. as the steppings are taken, the knees are stretched gradually until reaching erect position. nd line;-- to fetch a pail of wa- inter.;-- bend trunk forward, stretching left arm (hand clenched) downward, holding imaginary pail under spout of pump. bend right arm (hand clenched) to thrust, grasping the imaginary pump handle. imitate pumping of water (three times.) ter; inter.;-- assume erect position with hands on hips. rd line;-- jack fell down and broke his crown, activity as applied to children representing jack. (outer circle.) inter.;-- upon the word, "jack," bend knees slightly; upon the word, "fell," pupils spring lightly upward and assume deep knee position, placing right hand upon the head (the crown) and left hand upon the floor. (the hand on floor is in the forward plane.) th line;-- and jill came tumbling after. activity as applied to children representing jill. (inner circle.) inter.;-- upon the word, "jill," bend knees slightly; upon the word, "came," spring lightly upward and assume deep knee position, covering face with right hand (crying) and placing left hand on floor. (the hand on floor is in the forward plane.) upon completion of the song all children gradually stretch the knees, shaking the head in sorrow as they sing-- boo-hoo! boo-hoo! boo-hoo! boo-hoo! cover the face with the hands. movement of head;-- right; left; right; left; right; left; right and front. [illustration: pumping a pail of water] dickory, dickory, dock _permission to use words and music:-- mcloughlin bros._ +j. w. elliott+ [music: dickory, dickory, dock; the mouse ran up the clock; the clock struck one, the mouse ran down; dickory, dickory, dock.] description formation;-- single circle facing line of direction with hands on hips. st line;-- dickory, interpretation;-- arms stretched overhead with hands clasped. bend trunk to the left. dickory, inter.;-- bend trunk to the right. dock; inter.;-- assume erect position. nd line;-- the mouse ran up the clock; inter.;-- place hands on hips; turn to the left and starting with the left foot execute six running steps forward, closing left foot to right, completing the movement. (seven counts.) rd line;-- the clock inter.;-- turn right about. struck one, inter.;-- clap hands overhead and replace to hips. the mouse ran inter.;-- three running steps forward. (left; right and left.) down; inter.;-- step forward, right, and turn to the left, closing left foot to right foot. th line;-- dickory, inter.;-- arms stretched overhead with hands clasped. bend trunk to the left. dickory, inter.;-- bend trunk to the right. dock. inter.;-- assume erect position. position! looby loo _permission to use words and music:-- miss lydia clark and benj. h. sanborn & co._ arr. by +fannie robertson+ [music: . here we dance looby loo, here we dance looby light, here we dance looby loo, all on a saturday night, i put my right hand in, i put my right hand out, i give my right hand a shake, shake, shake, and turn myself about, oh!] description formation;-- single circle formation, facing counter clock-wise (right), in close order formation. hands are placed upon the shoulders of the pupil in front. note.-- in classroom:-- single circle around one row of seats. verse here we dance looby loo, here we dance looby light, here we dance looby loo, every saturday night. interpretation;-- children march in line of direction, starting with inside foot (left), swaying inward (left) and outward (right). upon the completion of the verse, the children immediately cease the movement and face the center of the circle. chorus i put my right hand in, i put my right hand out, i give my right hand a shake, shake, shake, and turn myself about. oh! inter.;-- imitate activity as suggested and in turning execute same by spinning about upon the right foot to the right. upon completion of the turn immediately face line of direction, placing hands upon pupil's shoulders in front in readiness for the verse action. chorus nd;-- i put my left hand in, etc. rd;-- i put my right foot in, etc. th;-- i put my left foot in, etc. th;-- i put my little head in, etc. th;-- i put my whole self in, etc. baa, baa, black sheep _permission to use words and music:-- miss lydia clark and benj. h. sanborn & co._ arr. by +fannie robertson+ [music: baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool? yes, sir; yes, sir! three bags full; one for my master, one for my dame. but none for the little boy that cries in the lane.] description formation;-- children form a single circle with hands joined. (the sheep.) a boy is chosen who stands in the center of the circle. (the little boy in the lane.) outer, front and rear aisles of room utilized. st line;-- baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool? interpretation;-- seven quick slides to the right, ceasing movement on the eighth count. nd line;-- yes, sir; yes, sir! inter.;-- those in the circle (the sheep), place hands on hips and nod their heads twice emphatically. three bags full; inter.;-- place right elbow in left hand with three fingers extended, shaking same three times vigorously. rd line;-- one for my master, inter.;-- step sideward to the right and close feet; bow and assume erect position. hands are placed upon the hips. one for my dame, inter.;-- step sideward to the left and close feet; bow and assume erect position. hands are placed upon hips. th line;-- but none for the little boy inter.;-- mark time, in place; (right; left; right; left); turning head to the right, left, right and front. hands are placed on hips. that cries in the lane. inter.;-- place right elbow in the left hand with forefinger extended, shaking same three times vigorously at the little boy in the center of the circle. [illustration: the little boy crying in the lane] bean porridge arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: bean porridge hot, bean porridge cold, bean porridge in the pot, nine days old; some like it hot, and some like it cold, some like it in the pot, nine days old.] description formation;-- double circle formation facing partners with hands on hips. suggestion:-- in so far as possible have the sex units divided; the boys forming the inner circle and the girls forming the outer circle. st line;-- bean interpretation;-- clap hands to thighs. porridge inter.;-- clap own hands. hot, inter.;-- clap partner's hands. bean inter.;-- clap hands to thighs. porridge inter.;-- clap own hands. cold, inter.;-- clap partner's hands. nd line;-- bean inter.;-- clap hands to thighs. porridge inter.;-- clap own hands. in the inter.;-- with right hand, clap partner's right hand. pot, inter.;-- clap own hands. nine inter.;-- with left hand clap partner's left hand. days inter.;-- clap own hands. old; inter.;-- clap partner's hands. description of pupil; outer circle. counterlike as to movement for pupils of inner circle. rd line;-- some inter.;-- clasp partner's hands and raise arms to shoulder height. step sideward, right. (in line of direction.) like it inter.;-- close left to right. hot, and inter.;-- step dip, right. some inter.;-- step sideward, left. (in reverse line of direction.) like it inter.;-- close right to left. cold, inter.;-- step dip, left. th line;-- some like it in the pot, inter.;-- four chasse steps in line of direction. nine days inter.;-- jump, in place, once. old. inter.;-- jump, in place, once. fly away jack and jill arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: two little blackbirds, sitting on a hill, one named jack and the other named jill; fly away, jack and fly away, jill; come again, jack and come again, jill.] description formation;-- double circle facing counter clockwise (line of direction); inside hands joined and raised shoulder height; outside hands on hips. inner circle:-- jack. outer circle:-- jill. suggestion;-- in so far as possible have the sex units divided, the boys forming the inside circle and the girls forming the outside circle. start the dance movement with the outside foot. (boys beginning with the left foot; girls beginning with the right foot.) st line;-- two little blackbirds, interpretation;-- three steps in line of direction. inner circle (jack);-- (left; right, left and close right to left.) outer circle (jill);-- (right; left, right and close left to right.) sitting on a hill, inter.;-- bend knees deeply. outer and inner circles. nd line;-- one named inter.;-- inner circle (jack); place hands on hips, stretch knees and turn to partner. (right.) inter.;-- outer circle (jill); replace left hand to hip and remain in deep knee position. jack inter.;-- bow and assume erect position. inter.;-- no activity. and the inter.;-- no activity for either circles. other named inter.;-- outer circle (jill); stretch knees and turn to partner (left.) inter.;-- inner circle;-- no activity. jill; inter.;-- [outer circle] bow and assume erect position. rd line;-- fly away, jack inter.;-- inner circle (jack); three chasses in line of direction. inter.;-- outer circle (jill); no activity. and fly away, jill; inter.;-- outer circle (jill); three chasses in line of direction. inter.;-- inner circle; (jack); no activity. th line;-- come again, jack inter.;-- inner circle (jack); three chasses in reverse line of direction. inter.;-- outer circle (jill); no activity. and come again, jill. inter.;-- outer circle (jill); three chasses in reverse line of direction. inter.;-- inner circle (jack); no activity. [illustration: two little black birds sitting on a hill (_see page _)] [illustration: i had a little pony (_see page _)] pop goes the weasel [music: a sixpence for a spool of thread, a penny for a needle; that's the way the money goes; pop goes the weasel. watch how the needle does fly, nimble hands to guide it; every time the wheel goes round, pop goes the weasel.] description formation;-- double circle formation, partners facing; hands joined and raised shoulder height. suggestion;-- in so far as possible have the sex units divided, the boys forming the inner circle and the girls forming the outer circle. description of the pupils occupying the outer circle (girls); inner circle (boys); counterlike. verse st line;-- a sixpence for interpretation;-- step dip, right. (in line of direction.) a spool of thread, inter.;-- step dip, left. (in reverse line of direction.) nd line;-- a penny for a needle; inter.;-- four chasse steps in line of direction. note.-- on the fourth chasse step do not close left foot to the right. rd line;-- that's inter.;-- face line of direction; inner hands joined and outer hands on hips. step forward, left. the way inter.;-- step forward, right. the money inter.;-- step forward, left. goes; inter.;-- close right to left and place inner hand to hip. th line;-- pop inter.;-- with a jump, execute a turn right about and clap hands once. goes the weasel. inter.;-- with a jump, execute a turn right about, and clap hands once. finish with inner hands joined and outer hands on hips. facing in line of direction. repeat verse st line;-- a sixpence for interpretation;-- two step, right. (in line of direction.) a spool of thread, inter.;-- two step, left. (in line of direction.) nd line;-- a penny inter.;-- step forward, right. for a inter.;-- step forward, left. needle; inter.;-- step forward, right and close left to right. rd line;-- that's the way inter.;-- two step, left. (in line of direction.) the money goes; inter.;-- two step, right. (in line of direction.) th line;-- pop inter.;-- step forward, left. goes the inter.;-- step forward, right. weasel. inter.;-- step forward, left and close right to the left. finish with hands on hips. chorus st line;-- watch how inter.;-- turn to partner and step dip, right. (in line of direction.) clap hands three times. the needle does fly, inter.;-- step dip, left. (in reverse line of direction.) clap hands three times. nd line;-- nimble hands to guide it; inter.;-- encircle to the right with three walking steps. (right; left; right and close left to right.) as the first step is taken clap hands once and replace hands to hips. rd line;-- every time inter.;-- step dip, left. (in reverse line of direction.) clap hands three times. the wheel goes round, inter.;-- step dip, right. (in line of direction.) clap hands three times. th line;-- pop goes the weasel. inter.;-- encircle to the left with three walking steps. (left; right; left and close right to the left.) as the first step is taken clap hands once and replace hands to hips. dapple grey arr. by +j. n. richards+ [music: i had a little pony and his name was dapple grey; i lent him to a lady, to ride a mile away. she whipped him and she slashed him, she rode him through the mire; i would not lend my pony now for all the lady's hire.] description formation;-- children arranged in double circle formation, facing counter clockwise (line of direction); outside hands placed on hips; inside hands joined and raised shoulder height. suggestion;-- in so far as possible have the sex units divided, the boys forming the inside circle and the girls forming the outside circle. start the dance movement with the outside foot. (boys beginning with the left foot; girls beginning with the right foot.) description of pupils in outer circles. (girls.) counterlike-- inner st line;-- i had interpretation;-- point step forward, right. a little inter.;-- point step backward, right. pony inter.;-- three steps forward and hold. (right; left and right.) cues;-- point and point and step, step, step. and his name inter.;-- swing left forward and point step forward, left. was dapple inter.;-- point step backward, left. grey; inter.;-- three steps forward and hold. (left; right and left.) cues;-- point and point and step, step, step. nd line;-- i lent inter.;-- with a jump, face partner; clasp outside hands and raise both arms to shoulder height. him to inter.;-- jump, in place, once. a lady, inter.;-- step throw, right and step throw, left. to ride a mile away. inter.;-- seven chasses in line of direction, closing left to right, completing movement. rd line;-- she whipped him and she slashed him, inter.;-- replace left hand to hip. grasp imaginary whip with the right hand and with a vigorous motion imitate whipping. (three times replacing hand to hip upon the word, "him.") mark time, in place, six counts. (right; left; right; left; right and left.) note.-- the downward movement of whipping takes place as the right foot is lowered to the floor. she rode him through the mire; inter.;-- clasp partner's hands, raising arms to shoulder height and bend and stretch knees six times. th line;-- i would inter.;-- step dip, right, clapping hands three times. not lend inter.;-- step dip, left, clapping hands three times. my pony now inter.;-- face line of direction; replace hands to hips and execute two steps forward. (right; left and close light to left.) for all inter.;-- step throw, right. the lady's inter.;-- step throw, left. hire. inter.;-- mark time, in place, three counts. (right; left and right.) sing a song of sixpence _permission to use words and music:-- mcloughlin bros._ arr. by +j. w. elliott+ [music: sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye; four and twenty blackbirds bak'd in a pie. when the pie was open'd, the birds began to sing; wasn't that a dainty dish to set before a king.] description formation;-- single circle formation facing counter clockwise (right) in close order formation. hands are placed upon the shoulders of the pupil in front. st verse st line;-- sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye; interpretation;-- starting with the inside foot (left) moving in line of direction execute point step forward and step, left; right; left and right. during this movement, bend the trunk slightly to the left and right as the activity proceeds. cues;-- point and step; point and step; point and step; point and step. nd line;-- four and twenty blackbirds inter.;-- turn the head to the left; step sideward, left and close right to left and repeat. cue;-- step and close; step and close. bak'd in a pie. inter.;-- turn the head to the right; step sideward, right and close left to the right and repeat. cue;-- step and close; step and close. rd line;-- when the pie was open'd, inter.;-- facing inward (left); clasp hands to the right and left and starting with the right foot execute three steps backward. (right; left; right and close left to the right.) cues;-- step; step; step and close. the birds began to sing; inter.;-- three chasse steps in line of direction. (to the right.) th line;-- wasn't that a dainty dish inter.;-- extend arms forward slightly flexed, clapping hands seven times, and step bend, left and right. (step to the left; place the right toe behind the left heel, bending both knees slightly. during this movement the head is turned to the left, the trunk bending slightly as the knee bending occurs. (counterlike as to movement of head and trunk when executed to the right.) to set before inter.;-- replace hands to hips; step sideward, left and close right to left. a king? inter.;-- bow and assume erect position. _second verse_ [music: the king was in the counting house, counting out his money; the queen was in the parlour, eating bread and honey; the maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes; there came a little dicky bird, and popp'd upon her nose.] description formation;-- single circle facing inward with hands on hips. st line;-- the king was in the counting house, interpretation;-- starting with the left foot execute three steps forward. (left; right; left and close right to the left.) counting out his money; inter.;-- bend knees deeply and suit activity to the words, holding imaginary coins in the palm of the left hand, counting with the right hand. (six counts.) nd line;-- the queen was in the parlour, inter.;-- stretch the knees, lower heels; facing to the right, start with the right foot, execute three chasse steps to the right, with arms raised sideward. eating bread and honey; inter.;-- hold imaginary plate in the left hand (palm up) and suit activity to words, imitating eating with the right hand. (six counts.) rd line;-- the maid was in the garden, inter.;-- extend arms forward slightly flexed, clapping hands seven times, and step bend, left and right. (step to the left, place right toe behind the left heel, bending both knees slightly. during this movement the head is turned to the left, the trunk bending slightly as the knee bending occurs. (counterlike as to movement of head and trunk when executed to the right.) hanging inter.;-- replace left foot; stretch the knees; bending trunk forward, downward grasping clothes with hands. out inter.;-- stretching the trunk; raise arms forward upward to imaginary clothesline. the clothes; inter.;-- take clothespin out of mouth with right hand and pin clothes to line. th line;-- there came a little dicky bird, inter.;-- replace hands to hips, execute four hops forward. and popp'd inter.;-- clap hands, replacing same to hips, and execute one-quarter turn to the left by hopping. upon her nose. inter.;-- bow and assume erect position. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * errors corrected by transcriber. missing or invisible periods (full stops) have been silently supplied. rhythmic steps, # . hand clapping occurs on counts _one_ and _two_. _printed "_one and two_" (continuous italics): may be correct_ fly away jack and jill # : line int. no activity for either files. _text unchanged (compare "circles" below)_ see saw, marjory daw: text because he won't work any faster. _apostrophe missing_ fly away jack and jill # : line int. no activity for either circles. _text unchanged (compare "files" above)_ same, next line-- inter.;-- inner circle;-- no activity. _"no activity" printed in first column_ same-- th line;-- come again, jack _header " th line" missing_ file is gratefully uploaded to the pg collection in honor of distributed proofreaders having posted over , ebooks. the shanty book part i sailor shanties (curwen edition ) collected and edited, with pianoforte accompaniment, by richard runciman terry, with a foreword by sir walter runciman, bart. london j. curwen & sons ltd., berners street, w. copyright, , by j. curwen & sons ltd. foreword by sir walter runciman it is sometimes difficult for old sailors like myself to realize that these fine shanty tunes--so fascinating to the musician, and which no sailor can hear without emotion--died out with the sailing vessel, and now belong to a chapter of maritime history that is definitely closed. they will never more be heard on the face of the waters, but it is well that they should be preserved with reverent care, as befits a legacy from the generation of seamen that came to an end with the stately vessels they manned with such skill and resource. in speech, the old-time 'shellback' was notoriously reticent--almost inarticulate; but in song he found self-expression, and all the romance and poetry of the sea are breathed into his shanties, where simple childlike sentimentality alternates with the rabelaisian humour of the grown man. whatever landsmen may think about shanty words--with their cheerful inconsequence, or light-hearted coarseness--there can be no two opinions about the tunes, which, as folk-music, are a national asset. i know, of course, that several shanty collections are in the market, but as a sailor i am bound to say that only one--capt. w.b. whall's 'sea songs, ships, and shanties'--can be regarded as authoritative. only a portion of capt. whall's delightful book is devoted to shanties, of which he prints the melodies only (without accompaniment); and of these he does not profess to give more than those he himself learnt at sea. i am glad, therefore, to welcome messrs. curwen's project of a wide and representative collection. dr. terry's qualifications as editor are exceptional, since he was reared in an environment of nineteenth-century seamen, and is the only landsman i have met who is able to render shanties as the old seamen did. i am not musician enough to criticize his pianoforte accompaniments, but i can vouch for the authenticity of the _melodies_ as he presents them, untampered with in any way. walter runciman. _shoreston hall_, _chathill_, . contents page foreword by sir walter runciman iii introduction v notes on the shanties xiii windlass & capstan shanties: billy boy bound for the rio grande good-bye, fare ye well johnny come down to hilo clear the track, let the bullgine run lowlands away sally brown santy anna shenandoah stormalong john the hog's-eye man the wild goose shanty we're all bound to go what shall we do with the drunken sailor? halliard shanties: blow, my bully boys blow the man down cheer'ly, men good morning, ladies all hanging johnny hilo somebody oh run, let the bullgine run reuben ranzo the dead horse tom's gone to hilo whisky johnny boney was a warrior fore-sheet or sweating-up shanties: johnny boker haul away, joe we'll haul the bowlin' bunt shanty: paddy doyle's boots alphabetical index of shanties page billy boy blow, my bully boys blow the man down boney was a warrior bound for the rio grande cheer'ly, men clear the track, let the bullgine run dead horse, the good-bye, fare ye well good morning, ladies all hanging johnny haul away, joe hilo somebody hog's-eye man, the johnny boker johnny come down to hilo lowlands away oh run, let the bullgine run paddy doyle's boots reuben ranzo sally brown santy anna shenandoah stormalong john tom's gone to hilo we'll haul the bowlin' we're all bound to go what shall we do with the drunken sailor? whisky johnny wild goose shanty, the introduction apologia it may reasonably be asked by what authority a mere landsman publishes a book on a nautical subject. i may, therefore, plead in extenuation that i have all my life been closely connected with seafaring matters, especially during childhood and youth, and have literally 'grown up with' shanties. my maternal ancestors followed the sea as far back as the family history can be traced, and sailor uncles and grand-uncles have sung shanties to me from my childhood upwards. during boyhood i was constantly about amongst ships, and had learnt at first hand all the popular shanties before any collection of them appeared in print. i have in later years collected them from all manner of sailors, chiefly at northumbrian sources. i have collated these later versions with those which i learnt at first hand as a boy from sailor relatives, and also aboard ship. and lastly, i lived for some years in the west indies, one of the few remaining spots where shanties may still be heard, where my chief recreation was cruising round the islands in my little ketch. in addition to hearing them in west indian seaports, aboard yankee sailing ships and sugar droghers, i also heard them sung constantly on shore in antigua under rather curious conditions. west indian negro shanties are movable wooden huts, and when a family wishes to change its _venue_ it does so in the following manner: the shanty is levered up on to a low platform on wheels, to which two very long ropes are attached. the ropes are manned by as many hands as their length will admit. a 'shantyman' mounts the roof of the hut and sits astride it. he sings a song which has a chorus, and is an exact musical parallel of a seaman's 'pull-and-haul' shanty. the crowd below sings the chorus, giving a pull on the rope at the required points in the music, just as sailors did when hauling at sea. each pull on the rope draws the hut a short distance forward, and the process is continued till its final resting-place is reached, when the shantyman descends from the roof. the hut is then levered off the platform on to _terra firma_ and fixed in its required position. what a shanty is shanties were labour songs sung by sailors of the merchant service only while at work, and never by way of recreation. moreover--at least, in the nineteenth century--they were never used aboard men-o'-war, where all orders were carried out in silence to the pipe of the bo'sun's whistle. before the days of factories and machinery, all forms of work were literally _manual_ labour, and all the world over the labourer, obeying a primitive instinct, sang at his toil: the harvester with his sickle, the weaver at the loom, the spinner at the wheel. long after machinery had driven the labour-song from the land it survived at sea in the form of shanties, since all work aboard a sailing vessel was performed by hand. the advent of screw steamers sounded the death-knell of the shanty. aboard the steamer there were practically no sails to be manipulated; the donkey-engine and steam winch supplanted the hand-worked windlass and capstan. by the end of the seventies steam had driven the sailing ship from the seas. a number of sailing vessels lingered on through the eighties, but they retained little of the corporate pride and splendour that was once theirs. the old spirit was gone never to return. when the sailing ship ruled the waters and the shanty was a living thing no one appears to have paid heed to it. to the landsman of those days--before folk-song hunting had begun--the haunting beauty of the tunes would appear to have made no appeal. this may be partly accounted for by the fact that he would never be likely to hear the sailor sing them ashore, and partly because of the rabelaisian character of the words to which they were sung aboard ship. we had very prim notions of propriety in those days, and were apt to overlook the beauty of the melodies, and to speak of shanties in bulk as 'low vulgar songs.' be that as it may, it was not until the late eighties--when the shanty was beginning to die out with the sailing ship--that any attempt was made to form a collection. origin of the word here let me enter my protest against the literary preciosity which derives the word from (_un_) _chanté_ and spells it 'chanty'--in other words, against the gratuitous assumption that unlettered british sailors derived one of the commonest words in their vocabulary from a foreign source. the result of this 'literary' spelling is that ninety-nine landsmen out of every hundred, instead of pronouncing the word 'shanty,' rhyming with 'scanty' (_as every sailor did_), pronounce it 'tchahnty,' rhyming with 'auntie,' thereby courting the amusement or contempt of every seaman. the vogue of '_ch_anty' was apparently created by the late w.e. henley, a fine poet, a great man of letters, a profound admirer of shanty tunes, but entirely unacquainted with nautical affairs. kipling and other landsmen have given additional currency to the spelling. the 'literary' sailors, clark russell and frank bullen, have also spelt it '_ch_anty,' but their reason is obvious. the modest seaman always bowed before the landsman's presumed superiority in 'book-larnin'.' what more natural than that russell and bullen, obsessed by so ancient a tradition, should accept uncritically the landsman's spelling. but educated sailors devoid of 'literary' pretensions have always written the word as it was pronounced. to my mind the strongest argument against the literary landsman's derivation of the word is that the british sailor cultivated the supremest contempt for everything french, and would be the last person to label such a definitely british practice as shanty-singing with a french title. if there had been such a thing in french ships as a labour-song bearing such a far-fetched title as (_un_) _chanté_, there might have been a remote possibility of the british sailor adopting the french term in a spirit of sport or derision, but there is no evidence that any such practice, or any such term, achieved any vogue in french ships. as a matter of fact, the oxford dictionary (which prints it '_sh_anty') states that the word never found its way into print until . the truth is that, however plausible the french derivation theory may sound, it is after all pure speculation--and a landsman's speculation at that--unsupported by a shred of concrete evidence. if i wished to advance another theory more plausible still, and equally unconvincing, i might urge that the word was derived from the negro hut-removals already mentioned. here, at least, we have a very ancient custom, which would be familiar to british seamen visiting west indian seaports. the object moved was a _shanty_; the music accompanying the operation was called, by the negroes, a _shanty_ tune; its musical form (solo and chorus) was identical with the sailor _shanty_; the pulls on the rope followed the same method which obtained at sea; the soloist was called a _shanty_man; like the shantyman at sea he did no work, but merely extemporized verses to which the workers at the ropes supplied the chorus; and finally, the negroes still pronounce the word itself exactly as the seaman did. i am quite aware of the flaws in the above argument, but at least it shows a manual labour act performed both afloat and ashore under precisely similar conditions as to (_a_) its nature, (_b_) its musical setting; called by the same name, _with the same pronunciation_ in each case; and lastly, connected, in one case, with an actual hut or _shanty_. against this concrete argument we have a landsman's abstract speculation, which (_a_) begs the whole question, and (_b_) which was never heard of until a few years before the disappearance of the sailing ship. i do not assert that the negroid derivation is conclusive, but that from (_un_) _chanté_ will not bear serious inspection. bibliography the material under this head is very scanty. nothing of any consequence was written before the eighties, when w.l. alden, in _harper's magazine_, and james runciman, in the _st. james's gazette_ and other papers, wrote articles on the subject with musical quotations. since then several collections have appeared: . _sailors' songs or chanties_, the words by frederick j. davis, r.n.r., the music composed and arranged upon traditional sailor airs by ferris tozer, mus. d. oxon. . _the music of the waters_, by laura alexandrine smith. and . _sea songs, ships, and shanties_, by capt. w.b. whall. . _songs of sea labour_, by frank t. bullen and w.f. arnold. . _english folk chanteys_ with pianoforte accompaniment, collected by cecil j. sharp. of all these collections capt. whall's is the only one which a sailor could accept as authoritative. capt. whall unfortunately only gives the twenty-eight shanties which he himself learnt at sea. but to any one who has heard them sung aboard the old sailing ships, his versions ring true, and have a bite and a snap that is lacking in those published by mere collectors. davis and tozer's book has had a great vogue, as it was for many years the only one on the market. but the statement that the music is 'composed and arranged on traditional sailor airs' rules it out of court in the eyes of seamen, since (_a_) a sailor song is not a shanty, and (_b_) to 'compose and arrange on traditional airs' is to destroy the traditional form. miss smith's book is a thick volume into which was tumbled indiscriminately and uncritically a collection of all sorts of tunes from all sorts of countries which had any connection with seas, lakes, rivers, or their geographical equivalents. scientific folk-song collecting was not understood in those days, and consequently all was fish that came to the authoress's net. sailor shanties and landsmen's nautical effusions were jumbled together higgledy-piggledy, along with 'full fathom five' and the 'eton boating song.' but this lack of discrimination, pardonable in those days, was not so serious as the inability to write the tunes down correctly. so long as they were copied from other song-books they were not so bad, but when it came to taking them down from the seamen's singing the results were deplorable. had the authoress been able to give us correct versions of the shanties her collection would have been a valuable one. the book contains altogether about thirty-two shanties collected from sailors in the tyne seaports. since both miss smith and myself hail from newcastle, her 'hunting ground' for shanties was also mine, and i am consequently in a position to assess the importance or unimportance of her work. i may, therefore, say that although hardly a single shanty is noted down correctly, i can see clearly--having myself noted the same tunes in the same district--what she intended to convey, and furthermore can vouch for the accuracy of some of the words which were common to north country sailors, and which have not appeared in other collections. if i have been obliged to criticize miss smith's book it is not because i wish to disparage a well-intentioned effort, but because i constantly hear _the music of the waters_ quoted as an authoritative work on sailor shanties; and since the shanties in it were all collected in the district where i spent boyhood and youth, i am familiar with all of them, and can state definitely that they are in no sense authoritative. i should like, however, to pay my tribute of respect to miss smith's industry, and to her enterprise in calling attention to tunes that then seemed in a fair way to disappear. bullen and arnold's book ought to have been a valuable contribution to shanty literature, as bullen certainly knew his shanties, and used to sing them capitally. unfortunately his musical collaborator does not appear to have been gifted with the faculty of taking down authentic versions from his singing. he seems to have had difficulty in differentiating between long measured notes and unmeasured pauses; between the respective meanings of three-four and six-eight time; between modal and modern tunes; and between the cases where irregular barring was or was not required. apart from the amateur nature of the harmonies, the book exhibits such strange unacquaintance with the rudiments of musical notation as the following (p. ): [music illustration] a few other collections deserve mention: . _the espérance morris book_, part ii (curwen edition ), contains five shanties collected and arranged by clive carey. . _shanties and forebitters_, collected and accompaniments written by mrs. clifford beckett (curwen edition ). _journal of the folk-song society_, nos. , , and , contain articles on shanties, with musical examples (melodies only), which, from the academic point of view, are not without interest. . _the motherland song book_ (vols. iii and iv, edited by r. vaughan williams) contains seven shanties. it is worthy of note that dr. vaughan williams, mr. clive carey, and mrs. clifford beckett all spell the word 'shanty' as sailors pronounced it. . _sailor shanties arranged for solo and chorus of men's voices_ by the present editor; two selections (curwen edition and ). there are one or two other collections in print which are obviously compilations, showing no original research. of these i make no note. shanty forms shanties may be roughly divided, as regards their use, into two classes: (_a_) hauling shanties, and (_b_) windlass and capstan. the former class accompanied the setting of the sails, and the latter the weighing of the anchor, or 'warping her in' to the wharf, etc. capstan shanties were also used for pumping ship. a few shanties were 'interchangeable,' i.e. they were used for both halliards and capstan. the subdivisions of each class are interesting, and the nature of the work involving 'walk away,' 'stamp and go,' 'sweating her up,' 'hand over hand,' and other types of shanty would make good reading; but nautical details, however fascinating, must be economized in a musical publication. capstan shanties are readily distinguishable by their music. the operation of walking round the capstan (pushing the capstan bars in front of them) was continuous and not intermittent. both tune and chorus were, as a rule, longer than those of the hauling shanty, and there was much greater variety of rhythm. popular songs, if they had a chorus or refrain, could be, and were, effectively employed for windlass and capstan work. hauling shanties were usually shorter than capstan ones, and are of two types: (_a_) those used for 'the long hoist' and (_b_) those required for 'the short pull' or 'sweating-up.' americans called these operations the 'long' and the 'short drag.' the former was used when beginning to hoist sails, when the gear would naturally be slack and moderately easy to manipulate. it had two short choruses, with a double pull in each. in the following example, the pulls are marked [music accent symbol]. [music illustration: reuben ranzo solo. oh pity poor reuben ranzo, chorus. [accent] ranzo, boys, [accent] ranzo, solo. oh poor old reuben ranzo, chorus. [accent] ranzo, boys, [accent] ranzo.] it is easy to see how effective a collective pull at each of these points would be, while the short intervals of solo would give time for shifting the hands on the rope and making ready for the next combined effort. when the sail was fully hoisted and the gear taut, a much stronger pull was necessary in order to make everything fast, so the shanty was then changed for a 'sweating-up' one, in which there was only one short chorus and one very strong pull: [music illustration: haul the bowlin' solo: we'll haul the bowlin', so early in the morning, chorus: we'll haul the bowlin', the bowlin' [accent] haul.] so much effort was now required on the pull that it was difficult to sing a musical note at that point. the last word was therefore usually shouted. sources of tunes the sailor travelled in many lands, and in his shanties there are distinct traces of the nationalities of the countries he visited. without doubt a number of them came from american negro sources. the songs heard on venetian gondolas must have had their effect, as many examples show. there are also distinct traces of folk-songs which the sailor would have learnt ashore in his native fishing village, and the more familiar christy minstrel song was frequently pressed into the service. as an old sailor once said to me: 'you can make anything into a shanty.' like all traditional tunes, some shanties are in the ancient modes, and others in the modern major and minor keys. it is the habit of the 'folk-songer' (i am not alluding to our recognized folk-song experts) to find 'modes' in every traditional tune. it will suffice, therefore, to say that shanties follow the course of all other traditional music. many are modern, and easily recognizable as such. others are modal in character, such as 'what shall we do with the drunken sailor?' no. , and 'the hog's-eye man,' no. . others fulfil to a certain extent modal conditions, but are nevertheless in keys, e.g. 'stormalong john,' no. . like many other folk-songs, certain shanties--originally, no doubt, in a mode--were, by the insertion of leading notes, converted into the minor key. there was also the tendency on the part of the modern sailor to turn his minor key into a major one. i sometimes find sailors singing in the major, nowadays, tunes which the very old men of my boyhood used to sing in the minor. a case in point is 'haul away, joe,' no. . miss smith is correct in giving it in the minor form which once obtained on the tyne, and i am inclined to hazard the opinion that that was the original form and not, as now, the following: [music illustration: way, haul away, we'll haul away the bowlin'. way, haul away, we'll haul away, joe.] in later times i have also heard 'the drunken sailor' (a distinctly modal tune) sung in the major as follows: [music illustration: what shall we do with the drunken sailor? what shall we do with the drunken sailor? etc.] i have generally found that these perversions of the tunes are due to sailors who took to the sea as young men in the last days of the sailing ship, and consequently did not imbibe to the full the old traditions. with the intolerance of youth they assumed that the modal turn given to a shanty by the older sailor was the mark of ignorance, since it did not square with their ideas of a major or minor key. this experience is common to all folk-tune collectors. other characteristics, for example: (_a_) different words to the same melody; (_b_) different melodies to the same or similar words, need not be enlarged upon here, as they will be self-evident when a definitive collection is published. of the usual troubles incidental to folk-song collecting it is unnecessary to speak. but the collection of shanties involves difficulties of a special kind. in taking down a folk-song from a rustic, one's chief difficulty is surmounted when one has broken down his shyness and induced him to sing. there is nothing for him to do then but get on with the song. shanties, however, being labour songs, one is 'up against' the strong psychological connection between the song and its manual acts. two illustrations will explain what i mean. a friend of mine who lives in kerry wished a collector to hear some of the traditional keening, and an old woman with the reputation of being the best keener in the district, when brought to the house to sing the funeral chants, made several attempts and then replied in a distressed manner: 'i can't do it; there's no body,' this did not mean that she was unwilling to keen in the absence of a corpse, but that she was unable to do so. just before giving up in despair my friend was seized with a brain wave, and asked her if it would suffice for him to lie down on the floor and personate the corpse. when he had done this the old woman found herself able to get on with the keening. an incident related to me quite casually by sir walter runciman throws a similar light on the inseparability of a shanty and its labour. he described how one evening several north country ships happened to be lying in a certain port. all the officers and crews were ashore, leaving only the apprentices aboard, some of whom, as he remarked, were 'very keen on shanties,' and their suggestion of passing away the time by singing some was received with enthusiasm. the whole party of about thirty apprentices at once collected themselves aboard one vessel, sheeted home the main topsail, and commenced to haul it up to the tune of 'boney was a warrior,' changing to 'haul the bowlin'' for 'sweating-up.' in the enthusiasm of their singing, and the absence of any officer to call ''vast hauling,' they continued operations until they broke the topsail yard in two, when the sight of the wreckage and the fear of consequences brought the singing to an abrupt conclusion. in my then ignorance i naturally asked: 'why couldn't you have sung shanties without hoisting the topsail?' and the reply was: 'how could we sing a shanty without having our hands on the rope?' here we have the whole psychology of the labour-song: the old woman could not keen without the 'body,' and the young apprentices could not sing shanties apart from the work to which they belonged. the only truly satisfactory results which i ever get nowadays from an old sailor are when he has been stimulated by conversation to become reminiscent, and croons his shanties almost subconsciously. whenever i find a sailor willing to declaim shanties in the style of a song i begin to be a little suspicious of his seamanship. in one of the journals of the folk-song society there is an account of a sailor who formed a little party of seafaring men to give public performances of shanties on the concert platform. no doubt this was an interesting experience for the listeners, but that a self-conscious performance such as this could represent the old shanty singing i find it difficult to believe. of course i have had sailors sing shanties to me in a fine declamatory manner, but i usually found one of three things to be the case: the man was a 'sea lawyer,' or had not done much deep-sea sailing; or his seamanship only dated from the decline of the sailing vessel. it is doubtless interesting to the folk-songer to see in print shanties taken down from an individual sailor with his individual melodic twirls and twiddles. but since no two sailors ever sing the same shanty quite in the same manner, there must necessarily be some means of getting at the tune, unhampered by these individual idiosyncrasies, which are quite a different thing from what folk-song students recognize as 'variants.' the power to discriminate can only be acquired by familiarity with the shanty as it was in its palmy days. the collector who comes upon the scene at this late time of day must necessarily be at a disadvantage. the ordinary methods which he would apply to a folk-song break down in the case of a labour-song. manual actions were the soul of the shanty; eliminate these and you have only the skeleton of what was once a living thing. it is quite possible, i know, to push this line of argument too far, but every one who knows anything about seamanship must feel that a shanty nowadays cannot be other than a pale reflection of what it once was. that is why i deprecate the spurious authenticity conferred by print upon isolated versions of shanties sung by individual old men. when the originals are available it seems to me pedantic and academic to put into print the comic mispronunciations of well-known words by old and uneducated seamen. and this brings me to the last difficulty which confronts the collector with no previous knowledge of shanties. as a mere matter of dates, any sailors now remaining from sailing ship days must necessarily be very old men. i have found that their octogenarian memories are not always to be trusted. on one occasion an old man sang quite glibly a tune which was in reality a _pasticcio_ of three separate shanties all known to me. i have seen similar results in print, since the collector arrived too late upon the scene to be able to detect the tricks which an old man's memory played him. one final remark about collectors which has an important bearing upon the value of their work. there were two classes of sailing vessels that sailed from english ports--the coaster or the mere collier that plied between the tyne or severn and boulogne, and the southspainer, under which term was comprised all deep-sea vessels. on the collier or short-voyage vessel the crew was necessarily a small one, and the shanty was more or less of a makeshift, adapted to the capacity of the limited numbers of the crew. purely commercial reasons precluded the engagement of any shantyman specially distinguished for his musical attainments. consequently, so far as the shanty was concerned, 'any old thing would do.' on the southspainer, however, things were very different. the shantyman was usually a person of considerable musical importance, who sang his songs in a more or less finished manner; his melodies were clean, clear-cut things, without any of the folk-songer's quavers and wobbles. i heard them in the 'seventies and 'eighties before the sailing-ship had vanished, consequently i give them as they were then sung--undisfigured and unobscured by the mixture of twirls, quavers, and hiccups one hears from octogenarian mariners who attempt them to-day. method of singing so far as the music was concerned, a shanty was a song with a chorus. the song was rendered by one singer, called the shantyman, and the chorus by the sailors who performed their work in time with the music. so far as the words were concerned there was usually a stereotyped opening of one or more verses. for all succeeding verses the shantyman improvized words, and his topics were many and varied, the most appreciated naturally being personal allusions to the crew and officers, sarcastic criticism on the quality of the food, wistful references to the good time coming on shore, etc. there was no need for any connection or relevancy between one verse or another, nor were rhymes required. the main thing that mattered was that the rhythm should be preserved and that the words should be such as would keep the workers merry or interested. once the stereotyped verses were got rid of and the improvization began, things became so intimate and personal as to be unprintable. it was a curious fact that such shanty words as lent themselves most to impropriety were wedded to tunes either of fine virility or haunting sweetness. for 'pull-and-haul' shanties the shantyman took up his position near the workers and announced the shanty, sometimes by singing the first line. this established the tune to which they were to supply the chorus. for capstan shanties he usually did the same. he frequently sat on the capstan, but so far as i can learn he more usually took up his position on or against the knightheads. the importance of the shantyman could not be overestimated. a good shantyman with a pretty wit was worth his weight in gold. he was a privileged person, and was excused all work save light or odd jobs. the words of shanties i have already noted the shanties which were derived from popular songs, also the type which contained a definite narrative. except where a popular song was adapted, the form was usually rhymed or more often unrhymed couplets. the topics were many and varied, but the chief ones were: ( ) popular heroes such as napoleon, and 'santy anna.' that the british sailor of the eighteenth century should hate every frenchman and yet make a hero of bonaparte is one of the mysteries which has never been explained. another mystery is the fascination which antonio lopez de santa anna ( - ) exercised over the sailor. he was one of the many mexican 'presidents' and was defeated by the american general taylor in . that did not prevent the british sailor presenting him in the light of an invariable victor until he was led out to be shot (he really died a natural death) by persons unknown. ( ) the sailor had mythical heroes too, e.g. 'ranzo,' already mentioned, and 'stormy,' who was the theme of many shanties. no sailor could ever give the least explanation of them, and so they remain the last echoes of long forgotten sagas. ( ) high-sounding, poetic, or mysterious words, such as 'lowlands,' 'shenandoah,' 'rolling river,' 'hilo,' 'mobile bay,' 'rio grande,' had a great fascination, as their constant recurrence in many shanties shows. ( ) the sailor also sang much of famous ships, such as 'the flying cloud,' 'the henry clay,' or 'the victory,' and famous lines, such as 'the black ball.' even famous shipowners were celebrated in song, as witness 'mr. john tapscott,' in 'we're all bound to go.' ( ) love affairs, in which 'lizer lee' and other damsels constantly figured, were an endless topic. ( ) but chiefly did jack sing of affairs connected with his ship. he never sang of 'the rolling main,' 'the foaming billows,' 'the storm clouds,' etc. these are the stock-in-trade of the landsman; they were too real for the sailor to sing about. he had the instinct of the primitive man which forbids mention of natural forces of evil omen. but intimate or humorous matters such as the failings of his officers, the quality of the food, the rate of pay, or other grievances were treated with vigour and emphasis. like the britisher of to-day, he would put up with any hardship so long as he were permitted to grouse about it. the shantyman gave humorous expression to this grousing, which deprived it of the element of sulks. steam let off in this way was a wholesome preventive of mutiny. the choruses were usually jingles, with no relevance save maintenance of the rhythm. one feature of the words may be noted. the sailor's instinct for romance was so strong that in his choruses, at least, no matter how 'hair-curling' the solo might be, he always took the crude edge off the concrete and presented it as an abstraction if possible. for example, he knew perfectly well that one meaning of 'to blow' was to knock or kick. he knew that discipline in yankee packets was maintained by corporeal methods, so much so that the mates, to whom the function of knocking the 'packet rats' about was delegated, were termed first, second, and third 'blowers,' or strikers, and in the shanty he sang 'blow the man down.' 'knock' or 'kick,' as i have recently seen in a printed collection, was too crudely realistic for him. in like manner the humorous title, 'hog's-eye,' veiled the coarse intimacy of the term which it represented. and that is where, when collecting shanties from the 'longshore' mariner of to-day, i find him, if he is uneducated, so tiresome. he not only wants to explain to me as a landsman the exact meaning (which i know already) of terms which the old type of sailor, with his natural delicacy, avoided discussing, but he tries where possible to work them into his shanty, a thing the sailor of old time never did. so that when one sees in print expressions which sailors did not use, it is presumptive evidence that the collector has been imposed upon by a salt of the 'sea lawyer' type. perhaps i ought to make this point clearer. folk-song collecting was once an artistic pursuit. now it has become a flourishing industry of high commercial value. from the commercial point of view it is essential that results should be printed and circulated as widely as possible. some knowledge of seamanship is an absolute necessity where folk-shanties are concerned. the mere collector nowadays does not possess that knowledge; it is confined to those who have had practical experience of the sea, but who will never print their experiences. the mere collector _must_ print his versions. what is unprinted must remain unknown; what is printed is therefore accepted as authoritative, however misleading it may be. many highly educated men, of whom captain whall is the type, have followed the sea. it is from them that the only really trustworthy information is forthcoming. but so far as i can judge, it is uneducated men who appear to sing to collectors nowadays, and i have seen many a quiet smile on the lips of the educated sailor when he is confronted with printed versions of the uneducated seaman's performances. for example, one of the best known of all shanties is 'the hog's-eye man'; i have seen this entitled 'the hog-eyed man,' and even 'the ox-eyed man.' every old sailor knew the meaning of the term. whall and bullen, who were both sailors, use the correct expression, 'hog-eye.' the majority of sailors of my acquaintance called it 'hog's-eye.' did decency permit i could show conclusively how whall and bullen are right and the mere collector wrong. it must suffice, however, for me to say that the term 'hog's-eye' or 'hog-eye' had nothing whatever to do with the optic of the 'man' who was sung about. i could multiply instances, but this one is typical and must suffice. we hear a great deal of the coarseness and even lewdness of the shanty, but i could wish a little more stress were laid on the sailor's natural delicacy. jack was always a gentleman in feeling. granted his drinking, cursing, and amours--but were not these, until victorian times, the hall-mark of every gentleman ashore? the rabelaisian jokes of the shantyman were solos, the sound of which would not travel far beyond the little knot of workers who chuckled over them. the choruses--shouted out by the whole working party--would be heard all over the ship and even penetrate ashore if she were in port. hence, in not a single instance do the choruses of any shanty contain a coarse expression. editorial methods as regards the tunes, i have adhered to the principle of giving each one as it was sung by some individual singer. this method has not been applied to the words. consequently the verses of any given shanty may have derived from any number of singers. since there was no connection or relevancy between the different verses of a shanty, the only principle i have adhered to is that whatever verses are set down should have been sung to me at some time or other by some sailor or other. of course i have had to camouflage many unprintable expressions, and old sailors will readily recognize where this has been done. sometimes a whole verse (after the first line) has needed camouflage, and the method adopted is best expressed as follows: there was a young lady of gloucester who couldn't eat salt with her egg, and when she sat down she could never get up, and so the poor dog had none. as regards the accompaniments, i have been solely guided by the necessity of preserving the character of the melodies in all their vigour and vitality, and have tried, even in obviously modal tunes, not to obscure their breeziness by academic treatment. acknowledgments amongst those to whom i owe thanks, i must number the editors of _the music student_ and _music and letters_, for allowing me to incorporate in this preface portions of articles which i have written for them. also to capt. w.j. dowdy, both for singing shanties to me himself, and affording me facilities for interviewing inmates of the royal albert institution, over which he presides. i also wish to express my gratitude to those sailors who have in recent years sung shanties to me, especially capt. r.w. robertson, mr. geo. vickers, mr. richard allen, of seahouses, and mr. f.b. mayoss. and last, but not least, to mr. morley roberts, who has not only sung shanties to me, but has also given me the benefit of his ripe nautical experience. r.r.t. _hampstead_, . notes on the shanties . billy boy this is undoubtedly a coast song 'made into a shanty.' i heard it in northumberland, both on shore and in ships, when i was a boy. the theme of a 'boy billy' seems common to folk-songs in different parts of the country. the tunes are different, and the words vary, but the topic is always the same: 'billy' is asked where he has been all the day; he replies that he has been courting; he is then questioned as to the qualifications of his _inamorata_ as a housewife. dr. vaughan-williams's 'my boy billie' is in print and well known, as is also mr. cecil sharp's 'my boy willie' ['english folk-songs,' vol. i, page ]. i have also collected different versions in warwickshire and somerset. the version of line , page , bars and , is older than the one given in my arrangement for male-voice chorus (curwen edition ), so, upon consideration, i decided to give it here. there are many more verses, but they are not printable, nor do they readily lend themselves to camouflage. the tune has not appeared in print until now. . bound for the rio grande the variants of this noble tune are legion. but this version, which a sailor uncle taught me, has been selected, as i think it the most beautiful of all. i used to notice, even as a boy, how it seemed to inspire the shantyman to sentimental flights of _heimweh_ that at times came perilously near poetry. the words of the well-known song, 'where are you going to, my pretty maid?' were frequently sung to this shanty, and several sailors have told me that they had also used the words of the song known as 'the fishes.' capt. whall gives 'the fishes' on pages and of his book, and says that the words were, in his time, sometimes used to the tune of 'blow the man down.' . good-bye, fare ye well this is one of the best beloved of shanties. so strongly did its sentiment appeal to sailors that one never heard the shantyman extemporize a coarse verse to it. whall prints a version, page . . johnny come down to hilo this is clearly of negro origin. i learnt several variants of it, but for its present form i am indebted to capt. w.j. dowdy. . clear the track, let the bullgine run the tune was a favourite in yankee packets. it does not appear in whall. 'bullgine' was american negro slang for 'engine.' i picked up this version in boyhood from blyth seamen. . lowlands for another version see whall (page ), who says it is of american origin and comes from the cotton ports of the old southern states. it was well known to every sailor down to the time of the china clippers. my version is that of capt. john runciman, who belonged to that period. i have seldom found it known to sailors who took to the sea after the early seventies. the tune was sung in very free time and with great solemnity. it is almost impossible to reproduce in print the elusive subtlety of this haunting melody. in north-country ships the shantyman used to make much of the theme of a dead lover appearing in the night. there were seldom any rhymes, and the air was indescribably touching when humoured by a good hand. a 'hoosier,' by the way, is a cotton stevedore. an interesting point about this shanty is that, whether by accident or design, it exhibits a rhythmic device commonly practised by mediæval composers, known as _proportio sesquialtera_. expressed in modern notation it would mean the interpolation of bars of three-four time in the course of a composition which was in six-eight time. the number of quavers would, of course, be the same in each bar; but the rhythm would be different. the barring here adopted does not show this. . sally brown for another version of this universally known shanty see whall, page . although its musical form is that of a halliard shanty, it was always used for the capstan. i never heard it used for any other purpose than heaving the anchor. the large-sized notes given in the last bar are those which most sailors sing to me nowadays; the small ones are those which i most frequently heard when a boy. . santy anna this fine shanty was a great favourite, and in defiance of all history the sailor presents 'santy anna' in the light of an invariable victor. the truth is that antonio lopez de santa anna ( - ) was the last president of mexico before the annexation by america of california, texas, and new mexico. he defeated the spaniards at zampico, and held vera cruz against the french, but was badly beaten at molina del rey by the united states army under general taylor ( ). he was recalled to the presidency in , but overthrown in . he attempted to overturn the republic in ; was captured and sentenced to death, but was pardoned on condition that he left the country. he retired to the united states until , when a general amnesty allowed his return to mexico. like other mexican presidents, he lived a stormy life, but unlike most of them he died a natural death. whall gives a version on page . . shenandoah this is one of the most famous of all shanties. i never met a sailor to whom it was unknown, nor have i ever found any two who sang it exactly alike. this version (sung to me by capt. robertson) is almost, but not quite, identical with the one i learnt as a boy. shenandoah (english seamen usually pronounced it 'shannandore') was a celebrated indian chief after whom an american town is named. a branch of the potomac river bears the same name. the tune was always sung with great feeling and in very free rhythm. whall gives a version on page . . stormalong john this is one of the many shanties with 'stormy' as their hero. whatever other verses were extemporized, those relating to digging his grave with a silver spade, and lowering him down with a golden chain, were rarely omitted. other favourite verses were: (_a_) i wish i was old stormy's son. (_b_) i'd build a ship a thousand ton. who 'stormy' was is undiscoverable, but more than a dozen shanties mourn him. . the hog's-eye man of the numberless versions of this shanty i have chosen that of capt. robertson as being the most representative. of the infinite number of verses to this fine tune hardly one is printable. there has been much speculation as to the origin of the title. as a boy my curiosity was piqued by reticence, evasion, or declarations of ignorance, whenever i asked the meaning of the term. it was only in later life that i learnt it from mr. morley roberts. his explanation made it clear why every _sailor_ called it either 'hog-eye' or 'hog's-eye,' and why only _landsmen_ editors ever get the word wrong. one collector labels the shanty 'the hog-eyed man,' and another goes still further wide of the mark by calling it 'the ox-eyed man.' the remarks on this shanty in the preface will show the absurdity of both titles. that is all the explanation i am at liberty to give in print. whall gives the shanty on page , his version differing but slightly from capt. robertson's. . the wild goose shanty this i learnt from capt. john runciman. allusions to 'the wild goose nation' occur in many shanties, but i never obtained any clue to the meaning (if any) of the term. the verse about 'huckleberry hunting' was rarely omitted, but i never heard that particular theme further developed. whall gives another version (in six-eight time) on page . . we're all bound to go i used to hear this tune constantly on the tyne. it is one of the few shanties which preserved a definite narrative, but each port seems to have offered variants on the names of the ships that were 'bound for amerikee.' 'mr. tapscott' was the head of a famous line of emigrant ships. the last word in verse was always pronounced _male_. this has led to many shantymen treating it not as _meal_, but as the _mail_ which the ship carried. as the shanty is full of irish allusions, the probabilities are that the word was _meal_, to which the sailor gave what he considered to be the irish pronunciation. whenever i heard the shanty it was given with an attempt at irish pronunciation throughout. capt. whall (page ) gives additional colour to the supposition that this was a general practice, for his version of verse runs: 'bad luck unto them _say_-boys, bad luck to them i say; they broke into me _say_-chest and they stole me clothes away.' . what shall we do with the drunken sailor? this fine tune--in the first mode--was always a great favourite. although mostly used for windlass or capstan, sir walter runciman tells me that he frequently sang to it for 'hand-over-hand' hauling. whall gives it on page under the title 'early in the morning.' it is one of the few shanties that were sung in quick time. . blow, my bully boys this shanty has been included in every collection that i know of. (see whall, page .) most of my sailor relatives sang the last line thus: [music illustration: her masts and yards they shine like silver.] spotless decks, and 'masts and yards that shone like silver,' were the distinguishing marks of a yankee packet, and this immaculate condition was the result of a terrible discipline, in which the belaying pin was a gruesome factor. . blow the man down this is the shanty which is perhaps the best known among landsmen. 'winchester street' is in south shields, and in the old days was the aristocratic quarter where only persons of high distinction--such as shipowners, and 'southspainer' skippers--lived. whall gives the shanty on page . . cheer'ly, men this is a very well-known shanty, and the variants of it are endless. this particular version was sung to me by capt. r.w. robertson. it differs but slightly from the version which i originally learnt from sir walter runciman. very few of the words were printable, and old sailors who read my version will no doubt chuckle over the somewhat pointless continuation of the verses concerning kitty carson and polly riddle. they will, of course, see the point of my having supplied a chopinesque accompaniment to such a shanty. . good morning, ladies all the title belongs to other shanties as well; but, so far as i know, this tune has never been printed until now. i learnt it from northumbrian sailors when a very small boy, and have never heard of its use in any other than blyth and tyne ships. it may be a northumbrian air, but from such knowledge as i have gleaned of northumbrian folk-tunes, i incline to the conjecture that it may have been picked up in more southern latitudes by some northumbrian seaman. . hanging johnny this cheery riot of gore is wedded to the most plaintive of tunes, and is immortalized by masefield in his 'sailor's garland.' nowadays one occasionally meets unhumorous longshore sailormen who endeavour to temper its fury to the shorn landsman by palming off a final verse, which gives one to understand that the previous stanzas have been only 'johnny's' little fun, and which makes him bleat: 'they said i hanged for money, but i never hanged nobody.' i also possess a shanty collection where the words have so clearly shocked the editor that he has composed an entirely fresh set. these exhibit 'johnny' as a spotless moralist, who would never _really_ hang his parents, but would only operate (in a pickwickian sense of course) on naughty and unworthy people: 'i'd hang a noted liar, i'd hang a bloated friar. 'i'd hang a brutal mother, i'd hang her and no other. 'i'd hang to make things jolly, i'd hang all wrong and folly.' imagine a shantyman (_farceur_ as he ever was) making for edification in that style! . hilo somebody this is another of the shanties i learnt as a boy from blyth sailors, and which has never been printed before. i fancy that 'blackbird' and 'crew' must be a perversion of 'blackbird and _crow_,' as the latter figure of speech occurs in other shanties. . oh, run, let the bullgine run the reference to the 'bullgine' seems to suggest transatlantic origin. there were endless verses, but no attempt at narrative beyond a recital of the names of places from which and to which they were 'running.' this version was sung to me by mr. f.b. mayoss, a seaman who sailed in the old china clippers. . reuben ranzo alden gives this version, and i fancy it may have once been fairly general, as several of my relatives used to sing it. the version i mostly heard from other sailors, however, began: [music illustration: oh, pity poor reuben ranzo etc.] but from mr. morley roberts i had the following: [music illustration: oh, pity poor reuben ranzo etc.] capt. robertson's version ran thus: [music illustration: oh, poor old reuben ranzo, ranzo, boys, ranzo, oh, poor old reuben ranzo, ranzo, boys, ranzo.] whall gives another version on page . who ranzo was must ever remain a mystery. capt. whall suggests that the word might be a corruption of lorenzo, since yankee whalers took many portuguese men from the azores, where lorenzo would have been a common enough name. he adds that in his time the shanty was always sung to the regulation words, and that 'when the story was finished there was no attempt at improvization; the text was, i suppose, considered sacred.' he further says that he never heard any variation from the words which he gives. i think he is right about the absence of improvization on extraneous topics, but i used to hear a good deal of improvization on the subject of ranzo himself. i knew at least three endings of the story: ( ) where the captain took him into the cabin, 'larned him navigation,' and eventually married him to his daughter; ( ) where ranzo's hatred of ablutions caused the indignant crew to throw him overboard; ( ) where the story ended with the lashes received, not for his dirty habits, but for a theft: 'we gave him lashes thirty for stealin' the captain's turkey.' i have also heard many extemporaneous verses relating his adventures among the denizens of the deep after he was thrown overboard. . the dead horse this shanty was used both for hauling and for pumping ship. it seems to have had its origin in a rite which took place after the crew had 'worked off the dead horse.' the circumstances were these: before any voyage, the crew received a month's pay in advance, which, needless to say, was spent ashore before the vessel sailed. jack's first month on sea was therefore spent in clearing off his advance, which he called working off the dead horse. the end of that payless period was celebrated with a solemn ceremony: a mass of straw, or whatever other combustibles were to hand, was made up into a big bundle, which sometimes did, and more often did not, resemble a horse. this was dragged round the deck by all hands, the shanty being sung meanwhile. the perambulation completed, the dead horse was lighted and hauled up, usually to the main-yardarm, and when the flames had got a good hold, the rope was cut and the blazing mass fell into the sea, amid shouts of jubilation. . tom's gone to hilo this beautiful tune was very popular. i have chosen the version sung to me by mr. george vickers, although in the first chorus it differs somewhat from the version i learnt as a boy: [music illustration: away down hilo etc.] it will be seen how closely the above resembles the version given by whall on page . (it will be noted that he entitled it '_john's_ gone to hilo.') i give mr. vickers's verses about 'the victory' and 'trafalgar,' as i had never heard them sung by any other seaman. i have omitted the endless couplets containing the names of places to which tommy is supposed to have travelled. as capt. whall says: 'a good shantyman would take johnny all round the world to ports with three syllables, montreal, rio grande newfoundland, or any such as might occur to him.' . whisky johnny this bacchanalian chant was a prime favourite. every sailor knew it, and every collection includes some version of it. . boney was a warrior i never met a seaman who has not hoisted topsails to this shanty. why jack should have made a hero of boney (he frequently pronounced it 'bonny') is a mystery, except perhaps that, as a sailor, he realized the true desolation of imprisonment on a sea-girt island, and his sympathies went out to the lonely exile accordingly. or it may have been the natural liking of the briton for any enemy who proved himself a 'bonny fechter.' . johnny boker this popular shanty was sometimes used for bunting-up a sail, but more usually for 'sweating-up.' although i have allowed the last note its full musical value, it was not prolonged in this manner aboard ship. as it coincided with the pull, it usually sounded more like a staccato grunt. . haul away, joe the major version of this shanty (which appears in part ii) was more general in the last days of the sailing ship; but this minor version (certainly the most beautiful of them) is the one which i used to hear on the tyne. the oldest of my sailor relatives never sang any other. this inclines me to the belief that it is the earlier version. the verses extemporized to this shanty were endless, but those concerning the nigger girl and king louis never seem to have been omitted. as in no. , i have allowed the last note its full musical value, but aboard ship it was sung in the same manner as no. . . we'll haul the bowlin' this was the most popular shanty for 'sweating-up.' there are many variants of it. the present version i learnt from capt. john runciman. in this shanty no attempt was ever made to sing the last word. it was always shouted. . paddy doyle's boots this shanty differs from all others, as (_a_) it was sung _tutti_ throughout; (_b_) it had only one verse, which was sung over and over again; and (_c_) it was used for one operation and one operation only, viz. bunting up the foresail or mainsail in furling. in this operation the canvas of the sail was folded intensively until it formed a smooth conical bundle. this was called a bunt, and a strong collective effort (at the word 'boots') was required to get it on to the yard. although the same verse was sung over and over again, very occasionally a different text would be substituted, which was treated in the same manner. capt. whall gives two alternatives, which were sometimes used: 'we'll all drink brandy and gin,' and-- 'we'll all shave under the chin.' mr. morley roberts also told me that a variant in his ship was-- 'we'll all throw dirt at the cook.' the shanty book. part i. [transcriber's note: fractions in brackets indicate that the original text has a music note symbol over the succeeding word, e.g., [ / ] = a quarter note. a vowel with an umlaut indicates that the word or syllable has two dots over it in the original text, presumably to indicate that it should be prolonged when sung. see the glossary below.] . billy boy. (northumbrian capstan shanty.) [music illustration: . where hev ye been äal the day, billy boy, billy boy? where hev ye been äal the day, me billy boy? i've been walkin' äal the day with me charmin' nancy grey, and me nancy kittl'd me fancy oh me charmin' billy boy.] . is she fit to be yor wife billy boy, billy boy? is she fit to be yor wife, me billy boy? she's as fit to be me wife as the fork is to the knife and me nancy, _etc._ . can she cook a bit o' steak billy boy, billy boy? can she cook a bit o' steak, me billy boy? she can cook a bit o' steak, aye, and myek a gairdle cake and me nancy, _etc._ . can she myek an irish stew billy boy, billy boy? can she myek an irish stew, me billy boy? she can myek an irish stew aye, and "singin' hinnies" too. and me nancy, _etc._ _glossary_:-- äal = all. pronounced to rhyme with "shall" only the vowel must be very much prolonged. kittled = tickled. myek = make. gairdle cake = girdle cake, i.e. a cake baked on a griddle. singin' hinnies--i.e. a species of sally lunn teacake only larger. usually plentifully besprinkled with currants, in which case it is designated by pitmen as "singin' hinnies wi' smäa co fizzors" (small coal fizzers.) . bound for the rio grande. (windlass and capstan shanty.) [music illustration: . i'll sing you a song of the fish of the sea. oh rio. i'll sing you a song of the fish of the sea and we're bound for the rio grande. then away love, away, 'way down rio, so fare ye well my pretty young gel. for we're bound for the rio grande.] . sing good-bye to sally, and good-bye to sue, oh rio, _etc._ and you who are listening, good-bye to you. and we're bound, _etc._ . our [ / ]ship [ / ]went sailing out over the bar [ / ]and [ / ]we pointed her nose for the south-er-en star. . farewell and adieu to you ladies of spain [ / ]and [ / ]we're all of us coming to see you again. . [ / ]i [ / ]said [ / / ]farewell [ / ]to kitty my dear, [ / ]and [ / ]she waved her white hand as we passed the south pier. . the oak, and the ash, and the bonny birk tree they're all growing green in the north countrie. . good-bye, fare ye well. [music illustration: . i thought i heard the old man say good-bye, fare ye well, good-bye, fare ye well. i thought i heard the old man say, hooray my boys we're homeward bound.] . we're homeward bound, i hear the sound. (_twice_) . we sailed away to mobile bay. (_twice_) . but now we're bound for portsmouth town. (_twice_) . and soon we'll be ashore again. (_twice_) . i kissed my kitty upon the pier [ / ]and [ / ]it's oh to see you again my dear. . we're homeward bound, and i hear the sound. (_twice_) . johnny come down to hilo. (windlass and capstan.) [music illustration: . i nebber see de like since i bin born, when a big buck nigger wid de sea boots on, says "johnny come down to hilo. poor old man." oh wake her, oh, shake her, oh wake dat gel wid de blue dress on, when johnny comes down to hilo. poor old man.] . i lub a little gel across de sea, she's a badian[ ] beauty and she sez to me, "oh johnny," _etc._ . oh was you ebber down in mobile bay where dey screws de cotton on a summer day? when johnny, _etc._ . [ / ]did [ / ]you ebber see de ole plantation boss and de long-tailed filly and de big black hoss? when johnny, _etc._ . i nebber seen de like since i bin born when a big buck nigger wid de sea boots on, says "johnny come down," _etc._ [footnote : i.e. barbadian, to wit, a native of barbados.] . clear the track, let the bullgine run. (windlass and capstan.) [music illustration: . oh, the smartest clipper you can find. ah ho way-oh, are you most done. is the marget evans of the blue cross line. so clear the track, let the bullgine run. tibby hey rig a jig in a jaunting car. ah ho way-oh, are you most done. with lizer lee all on my knee. so clear the track, let the bullgine run.] . oh the marget [ / / ]evans [ / ]of [ / ]the blue cross line she's [ / / ]never a day behind her time. . oh the gels are walking on the pier [ / ]and [ / ]i'll soon be home to you, my dear. . oh when i come home across the sea, it's lizer you will marry me. . Öh shake her, wake [ / ]her, [ / / ]before [ / ]we're [ / ]gone; oh fetch that gel with the blue dress on. . oh i thought i heard the skipper say "we'll keep the brig three points away." . oh the smartest clipper you can find is the marget [ / / ]evans [ / ]of [ / ]the blue cross line. . lowlands away. (windlass and capstan.) [music illustration: (introduction.) lowlands, lowlands, away my john, lowlands, away, i heard them say, my dollar and a half a day. . a dollar and a half a day is a hoosier's pay. lowlands, lowlands, away my john. a dollar and a half a day is very good pay. my dollar and a half a day. . oh was you ever in mobile bay. lowlands, lowlands, away my john. screwing the cotton by the day. my dollar and a half a day. . all in the night my true love came, lowlands, lowlands, away my john. all in the night my true love came. my dollar and a half a day.] . she came to me all in my sleep. (_twice_) . and hër eyes were white my love. (_twice_) . and then i knew my love was dead. (_twice_) . sally brown. (windlass and capstan.) [music illustration: . sally brown she's a bright mulatter. way ay-y roll and go. she drinks rum and chews terbacker. spend my money on sally brown.] . sally brown shë has a daughter sent me sailin' 'cross the water. . seven long years Ï courted sally. (_twice_) . sally brown i'm bound to leave you sally brown i'll not deceive you. . sally she's a 'badian' beauty. (_twice_) . sally lives on the old plantation she belongs the wild goose nation. . sally brown is a bright mulatter she drinks rum and chews terbacker. . santy anna. (windlass and capstan.) [music illustration: . oh santy anna won the day. way-ah, me santy anna. oh santy anna won the day. all on the plains of mexico.] . he beat the prooshans fairly. way-ah, _etc._ and whacked the british nearly. all on, _etc._ . he was a rorty gineral; a rorty snorty gineral. . they took him out and shöt him. oh when shall we forgët him. . oh santy anna won the day and gin'ral taylor run away. . shenandoah.[ ] (windlass and capstan.) [footnote : the small notes in the piano part are to be played when there is no violin.] [music illustration: . oh shenandoah, i long to hear you. away you rolling river. oh shenandoah, i long to hear you. away, i'm bound to go 'cross the wide missouri.] . oh shenandoah, i love your daughter. (_twice_) . 'tis seven long years since last i see thee. (_twice_) . oh shenandoah, i took a notion to sail across the stormy ocean. . oh shenandoah, i'm bound to leave you. oh shenandoah, i'll not deceive you. . oh shenandoah, i long to hear you. (_twice_) . stormalong john. (windlass and capstan.) [music illustration: . oh poor old stormy's dead and gone. storm along boys, storm along. oh poor old stormy's dead and gone. ah-ha, come along, get along, stormy along john.] . i dug his grave [ / ]with [ / ]a silver spade. (_twice_) . i lower'd him down [ / ]with [ / ]a golden chain. (_twice_) . i [ / / ]carried [ / ]him [ / ]away to mobile bay. (_twice_) . oh poor old stormy's dead and gone. (_twice_) . the hog's-eye man. (windlass and capstan.) [music illustration: . oh the hog's-eye man is the man for me, he were raised way down in tennessee. oh hog's eye, oh. row the boat ashore for the hog's-eye. steady on a jig with a hog's-eye oh, she wants the hog's-eye man.] . oh who's been here while i've been gone? söme big buck [ / / ]nigger, with his sea boots on?[ ] . oh bring me down mÿ riding cane, for i'm off to see my darling jane. . oh [ / / ]jenny's [ / ]in [ / ]the [ / / ]garden a-picking peas, and her [ / / ]golden hair's [ / / ]hanging down to her knees. . oh a hog's-eye ship, and a hog's-eye crew, and a hog's-eye mate, and a skipper too. [footnote : this verse was sometimes sung:-- "now where have you been gone so long you yankee jack wid de sea boots on?"] . the wild goose shanty. (windlass and capstan.) [music illustration: . i'm the shanty-man of the wild goose nation. tibby way-ay hioha! i've left my wife on a big plantation. hilo my ranzo hay!] . now a long farewell to the old plantation. (_twice_) . and a long farewell to the wild goose nation. (_twice_) . oh the boys [ / .]and [ / ]the [ / ]girls went a [ / . / / . / ]huckleberry hunting. (_twice_) . then good-bye [ / .]and [ / / ]farewell yöu rolling river. (_twice_) . i'm the shanty-man of the wild goose nation. i've left my wife on a big plantation. . we're all bound to go. (windlass and capstan.) [music illustration: . oh johnny was a rover and to-day he sails away. heave away, my johnny, heave away-ay. oh johnny was a rover and to-day he sails away. heave away my bully boys, we're all bound to go.] . as i was walking out one day, down by the albert dock. heave away, &c. i heard an emigrant irish girl conversing with tapscott. heave away, &c. . "good mornin', mister tapscott, sir," "good morn, my gel," sez he, "it's have you got a packet ship all bound for amerikee?" . "oh yes, i've got a packet ship, i _have_ got one or two. i've got the _jenny walker_ and i've got the _kangeroo_." . "i've got the _jenny walker_ and to-day she does set sail, with five and fifty emigrants [ / ]and [ / ]a thousand bags o' male."[ ] . [ / ]bad [ / ]luck [ / ]to [ / ]thim irish sailor boys, bad luck to thim i say. [ / ]for [ / ]they all got [ / ]drunk, [ / ]and [ / ]broke into me bunk and stole me clo'es away. [footnote : meal.] . what shall we do with the drunken sailor? (windlass and capstan.) [music illustration: . what shall we do with the drunken sailor, what shall we do with the drunken sailor, what shall we do with the drunken sailor early in the morning? hooray and up she rises, hooray and up she rises, hooray and up she rises early in the morning.] . [ / ]put [ / ]him in the long-boat until he's sober. (_thrice_) . pull out the plug änd [ / ]wet [ / ]him all over. (_thrice_) . [ / ]put [ / ]him in the [ / / ]scuppers with a hose-pipe on him. (_thrice_) . [ / ]heave [ / ]him by the leg in a running bowlin'. (_thrice_) . [ / ]tie [ / ]him to the [ / / ]taffrail when she's yard-arm under. (_thrice_) . blow my bully boys. (halliard shanty.) [music illustration: . a yankee ship came down the river, blow, boys blow. her masts and yards they shine like silver. blow my bully boys blow.] . and how d'ye know [ / ]she's [ / ]a yankee packet? the stars and stripes they fly above her. . and who d'ye think was skipper of her. (_twice_) . 'twas dandy jim, the one-eyed nigger; 'twas dandy jim, [ / ]with [ / ]his bully figure. . and what d'ye think they had for dinner? why bullock's lights and donkey's liver. . and what d'ye think they had for supper? why weevilled bread and yankee leather. . then blow my boys, and blow together. and blow my boys for better weather. . a yankee ship came down the river. her masts and yards they shine like silver. . blow the man down. (halliards.) [music illustration: . oh blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down. to me way-ay, blow the man down. oh blow the man down, bullies, blow him away. oh gimme some time to blow the man down. . we went over the bar on the thirteenth of may. to me way-ay, blow the man down. the galloper jumped, and the gale came away. oh gimme some time to blow the man down.] . oh the rags they was gone, and the chains they was jammed, [ / ]and [ / ]the skipper sez he, "let the weather be hanged." . Äs i was a-walking down winchester street, a saucy young damsel i happened to meet. . Ï sez to her, "polly, and how d'you do?" sez she, "none the better for seein' of you." . oh, it's sailors is tinkers, and tailors is men. [ / ]and [ / ]we're all of us coming to see you again. . so we'll blow the man up, and we'll blow the man down. [ / ]and [ / ]we'll blow him away into liverpool town. . cheer'ly men.[ ] (halliards.) [footnote : pronounced "chee-lee men."] [music illustration: . oh, nancy dawson, i-oh. chee-lee men. she robb'd the bo'sun, i-oh. chee-lee men. that was a caution, i-oh. chee-lee men. oh hauly, i-oh, chee-lee men. if sung without accompaniment the portion within brackets may be omitted. if sung with accompaniment the note d (to the word "men") may be sung _crescendo_ and held on to the end of the bar.] . oh sally racket. i-oh, &c. pawned my best jacket. i-oh, &c. sold the pawn ticket. i-oh, &c. . oh kitty carson jilted the parson, married a mason. . oh betsy baker lived in long acre, married a quaker. . oh jenny walker married a hawker that was a corker. . oh polly riddle broke her new fiddle. right through the middle. . good morning, ladies all. (halliards.) [music illustration: . now a long good-bye to you, my dear, with a heave-oh haul. and a last farewell, and a long farewell. and good morning, ladies all.] . for we're outward böund to new york town; with a heave, _etc._ and you'll wave to us till the sun goes down. and good morning, _etc._ . Änd when we get to new york town, oh it's there we'll drink, and sorrows drown. . when we're back once möre in london docks, all the pretty girls will come in flocks. . Änd poll, and bet, and sue will say: "oh it's here comes jack with his three years' pay." . so a long good-bye to you, my dear, and a last farewell, and a long farewell. . hanging johnny. (halliards.) [music illustration: . oh they call me hanging johnny. away, boys, away. they says i hangs for money. oh hang, boys, hang.] . Änd first i hanged my daddy. (_twice_) . Änd then i hanged my mother, my sister and my brother. . Änd then i hanged my granny. (_twice_) . Änd then i hanged my annie; i hanged her up see canny.[ ] . wë'll hang and haul together; we'll haul for better weather. [footnote : northumbrian equivalent of "so nicely" or "so gently."] . hilo somebody. (halliards and interchangeable.) [music illustration: . the blackbird sang unto our crew. hilo boys, hilo. the blackbird sang unto our crew. oh hilo somebody, hilo.] . the blackbird sang so sweet to me. (_twice_) . we sailed away to mobile bay. (_twice_) . and now we're bound for london town. (_twice_) . the up aloft this yard must go. (_twice_) . i thought i heard the old man say:-- "just one more pull, and then belay." . hooray my boys, we're homeward bound. (_twice_) . the blackbird sang unto our crew. (_twice_) . oh run, let the bullgine run. (halliards.) [music illustration: . oh we'll run all night till the morning. oh run, let the bullgine run. way-yah, oh-i-oh, run, let the bullgine run.] . oh we sailed all day tö mobile bay. . oh we sailed all nïght äcross the bight.[ ] . oh we'll run from dover to cällis. . Öh drive her captäin, drïve her. . Öh captain make her nöse blood. . she's a dandy packet and a flier too. . with a dandy skipper, and a dandy crew. . oh we'll run all nïght till the mörning. [footnote : of australia.] . reuben ranzo. (halliards.) [music illustration: . oh poor old reuben ranzo, oh ranzo boys, ranzo. ah pity poor reuben ranzo. ranzo boys, ranzo.] . oh ranzo was no sailor he shipped on board a whaler. . old ranzo couldn't steer her, [ / ]did [ / ]you [ / / ]ever hear [ / / ]anything queerer? . oh ranzo was no beauty why [ / / ]couldn't he do his duty? . oh ranzo washed [ / ]once [ / ]a fortnight he said it was his birthright. . they triced [ / ]up [ / ]this man so dirty and gave him five and thirty.[ ] . oh poor old reuben ranzo ah [ / / ]pity poor reuben ranzo. [footnote : i.e. lashes.] . the dead horse. (halliards, or pumping ship.) [music illustration: . a poor old man came riding by. and they say so, and they hope so. a poor old man came riding by. oh poor old man.] . i said "old man your hoss will die." (_twice_) . and if he dies i'll tan his skin. (_twice_) . and if he lives you'll ride again. (_twice_) . i thought i heard the skipper say. (_twice_) . oh one more pull and then belay. (_twice_) . a poor old man came riding by. (_twice_) . tom's gone to hilo. (halliards.) [music illustration: . tommy's gone and i'll go too, away down hilo. oh, tommy's gone and i'll go too. tom's gone to hilo.] . tommy's gone to liverpool, away, &c. oh, tommy's gone to liverpool, tom's gone to hilo. . tommy's gone to mobile bay. oh, tommy's gone to mobile bay. . tommy's gone, what shall i do? oh, tommy's gone, what shall i do? . tommy fought at tráfalgár. oh, tommy fought at trafalgar. . the old vic[ / / ]tory led the way. the brave old vic[ / / ]tory led the way. . tommy's gone for evermore. oh, tommy's gone for evermore. . whisky johnny. (halliards.) [music illustration: . oh whisky is the life of man. whiskey johnny. oh whisky is the life of man. whisky for my johnny.] . oh whisky makes me pawn my clothes. and whisky gave me this red nose. . oh whisky killed my poor old dad. and whisky druv my mother mad. . oh whisky up, and whisky down. and whisky all around the town. . oh whisky here and whisky there. it's i'll have whisky everywhere. . oh whisky is the life of man. it's whisky in an old tin can. . boney was a warrior. (halliards.) [music illustration: . boney was a warrior. way-ay yah. boney was a warrior. john france-wah.[ ]] [footnote : francois.] . boney beat the rooshians. (_twice_) . boney beat the prooshians. (_twice_) . boney went to möscow. (_twice_) . moscow was a-fïre. (_twice_) . boney he came back again. (_twice_) . boney went to elbow. (_twice_) . boney went to waterloo. (_twice_) . boney was defeated. (_twice_) . boney was a prisoner 'board the billy ruffian.[ ] . boney he was sent away, 'way to st. helena. . boney broke his heart, and died. (_twice_) . boney was a warrior. (_twice_) [footnote : sailor pronunciation of "bellerophon."] . johnny boker. (fore-sheet.) [music illustration: . oh do my johnny boker, come rock and roll me over. do my johnny boker, do.] . oh do my johnny boker, the skipper is a rover. do my johnny, &c. . oh do, &c. the mate he's never sober. do my, &c. . oh do, &c. the bo'sun is a tailor. do my, &c. . oh do, &c. we'll all go on a [ / / / ]jamboree. do my, &c. . oh do, &c. the packet is a rollin'. do my, &c. . oh do, &c. we'll pull and haul together. do my, &c. . oh do, &c. we'll haul for better weather. do my, &c. . oh do, &c. and soon we'll be in [ / / ]london town. do my, &c. . oh do, &c. come rock and roll me over. do my, &c. . haul away, joe. (fore-sheet.) [music illustration: . way, haul away, we'll haul away the bowlin'. way, haul away, haul away joe.] . way haul away. the packet is a-rollin'. . way haul away. we'll hang and haul together. . way haul away. we'll haul for better weather. . [ / ]once [ / ]i [ / ]had [ / ]a [ / / ]nigger [ / ]girl, and she was fat and lazy. . [ / ]then [ / ]i [ / ]had [ / ]a [ / / ]spanish girl, she nearly druv me crazy. . [ / / ]geordie [ / / ]charlton [ / ]had [ / ]a [ / ]pig, and it was double jointed. . [ / ]he [ / ]took [ / ]it [ / ]to [ / ]the blacksmith's shop to get its trotters pointed. . [ / ]king [ / / ]louis [ / ]was [ / ]the [ / ]king [ / ]o' [ / ]france before the revolution. . [ / ]king [ / / ]louis [ / ]got [ / ]his [ / ]head [ / ]cut [ / ]off, and spoiled his constitution. . oh when i was a little boy and so my mother told me. . that if i didn't kiss the girls my lips would all go mouldy. . oh once i had a scolding wife, she wasn't very civil. . i clapped a plaster on her mouth and sent her to the divvle. . we'll haul the bowlin'. (fore-sheet.) [music illustration: . we'll haul the bowlin' so early in the morning. we'll haul the bowlin', the bowlin' haul![ ]] [footnote : the last word ("haul") of the chorus is not sung but shouted _staccato_.] . we'll haul the bowlin' for kitty is my darlin'. . we'll haul the bowlin'; the fore-to-gallant bowlin'. . we'll haul the bowlin', the skipper is a growlin'. . we'll haul the bowlin', the packet is a rollin'. . we'll haul the bowlin' so early in the morning. . paddy doyle's boots. (bunt shanty.) [music illustration: . to my way-ay-ay-ah, we'll pay paddy doyle for his boots.] _alternative verses._ . we'll all throw dirt at the cook. . we'll all drink brandy and gin. brief list of morris and country dances folk songs, singing games _our folk music list, gratis and post free, contains full particulars, contents, and illustrations of these works._ all prices are net cash except those marked § * * * * * the espérance morris book by mary neal parts i and ii. price / each net cash. the guild of play books by mrs. c.w. kimmins parts i-iv. price / each net cash. masque of the children of the empire. numbers from the 'guild of play book.' price: plan, without music, /-; complete, /- net cash. national songs and dances of the allies. price /- net cash. singing games collected by miss alice gillington _net cash_ old dorset singing games /- old hampshire singing games /- old surrey singing games /- old isle of wight singing games /- breton singing games /- collected by s.e. thornhill. london bridge and other games /- collected by grace cleveland porter. negro folk-singing games / country, morris, and folk dances[ ] arranged by mary h. woolnoth [footnote : bells, rosettes, hats, beansticks, maypoles and braids may be procured from the publishers.] _net cash_ playford's country dances /- revived by nellie chaplin. ancient dances and music /- court dances and others /- minuet and gavotte /- edited by miss cowper coles. greensleeves and other old dances /- old english country dance steps /- collected by mildred bult old devonshire dances /- collected by john graham. shakespearean-bidford morris dances /- lancashire and cheshire morris dances /- collected by frank kidson. english country dances /- arranged for children's performance, with instructions. old english country dance and morris tunes /- by miss e. hughes. may-pole exercises /- by a. shaw. may-pole dances /- collected and arranged from various sources. folk dances of europe /- noted by miss cowper coles. § the hornpipe /- folk and national songs collected and arranged by s. baring gould, m.a., and cecil sharp, b.a. § english folk-songs for schools /- vocal edition, / . words only, d. selected and arranged by w.h. hadow. § songs of the british islands / vocal edition, /-. words only, d. collected by john graham _net cash_ traditional nursery rhymes /- collected by mrs. clifford beckett. shanties and forebitters /- collected by alice e. gillington. old christmas carols /- eight hampshire folk-songs /- noted by john graham. dialect songs of the north /- london: j. curwen & sons limited, berners street, w. . "fine knacks for ladies" composer: john dowland ( - ) arranger: rick davis this is a song by the english lutenist and composer john dowland. he published it in a book of songs in . rick wrote the guitar part, which is loosely based on dowland's lute accompaniment. "eternal father, strong to save" a.k.a., "navy hymn" composer: john bacchus dykes ( - ) arranger: rick davis this is more commonly known as the "navy hymn." if you've seen the movie titanic, this is the hymn that the upper-class people are singing in the chapel. in a major, k. *** theme from mozart's piano sonata in a major, k. composer: wolfgang amadeus mozart ( - ) arranger: rick davis arrangement for solo guitar. hark! the herald angels sing by felix mendelssohn guitar arrangement by rick davis oh little town of bethlehem by lewis redner guitar arrangement by rick davis [transcriber's note: this e-text is sheet music. the music notation and a midi file can be found in the html version. the cover page of the sheet music lists all twelve of n. louise wright's preludes; this e-text contains the first one, marked with an arrow (-->) on the cover page. text in italics is marked with _underscores_. text in bold is marked with =equal signs=. the musical flat symbols on the cover page are represented as [flat].] _to mr. e.r. kroeger_ n. louise wright op. twelve preludes for the pianoforte i -->prelude in f major ii prelude in e[flat] major iii prelude in e[flat] major iv prelude in f major v prelude in f major (_for left hand alone_) vi prelude in d minor vii prelude in e[flat] major viii prelude in g minor ix prelude in c minor x prelude in g minor xi prelude in g major xii prelude in c minor g. schirmer, inc., new york this composition, price, cents,--in u.s.a. [illustration] prelude n. louise wright. op. , no. [music: largo] world rights controlled by g. schirmer (inc.) _copyright, , by g. schirmer, inc._ printed in the u.s.a. new educational material for piano for first, second and third grades =bilbro, mathilda. cherokee rose.= grade melodious and catchy. teachers can use it for tune and rhythm, dexterity and general teaching purposes. =----the candy suite.= grade - a collection of tuneful, humorous and forceful pieces. sure to strike joy to the hearts of all young pupils. =brown, mary h. the swans= a pretty piece in the lower intermediate grade. good study for thirds, melody playing and development of the left hand. =coerne, louis a. a summer evening.= grade an all melodic piece on the tone-poem order. teaches expression, phrasing and use of pedal. =dutton, theodora. dance of the autumn leaves= =----the music lesson= =----scandinavian dance= =----spinning song= these are study-pieces of marked originality for the lower intermediate grades. they should be welcomed by all teachers. =griselle, thomas. bourree= =----minuet= both of these pieces are quite fascinating and devoid of dryness. they are of the intermediate grades, and instructive for time, rhythm and important phrases of real pianism. =grunn, homer. the whirligig= =----revery= both in third grade. the first promotes technic; while the other is for developing melody-playing, use of pedal and expression. =loth, leslie. in merry may= =----on the river= these pieces should be cordially received by teachers. they are dainty and melodious throughout. both of the easier intermediate grade. =paldi, mari. slumber song= may be suggested to teachers wishing piece for easy pedal study; also useful for hand expansion among young pupils. =pfeiffer, agatha. short stories for piano.= first grade a book of refined short pieces with descriptive titles for elementary work. arranged in progressive order. sure to please the teacher and pupil. =spear, jane m. valse de ballet.= third grade a sparkling dance of great charm and delicacy. a good study for dexterity, rhythm and style and also a delightful salon and concert piece. =terry, frances= =----the cradle in the garret= =----in the robbers' cave= =----swinging and singing= these interesting teaching pieces for the second grade are by a composer whose productions are never commonplace. they contain much attractiveness and educational value. teachers of all standards can utilize them. =wright, n. louise. four miniature Études= this group is for the first and second grade. the study points treated are important, and are sure to be helpful in the fullest sense of the word. highly recommended to teachers. g. schirmer, inc., new york [illustration] [transcriber's notes] i fondly remember singing from the st. gregory hymnal in grade school. looking down from the choir loft in the back of the church and standing five feet from the shouting organ pipes that stretched from floor to ceiling leaves a glorious impression on a ten year old! my skill in latin consists of two years in high school over fifty years ago. i remember most of the pronunciation, but the precise meanings and poetic meter is lost on me. i have carefully compared the printed text with the transcription, but poetic structure may be incorrect. my primary goal is to provide a source for singers and musicians who love the old latin hymns, as i do. i hope this will help spread the joy provided by these "oldies, but goodies." all the text of the lyrics and other material have been transcribed to this document for research and indexing. if you can only remember a few words of a hymn, a simple search should find the full text. the word and pdf version closely approximate the original page layout. the html version provides the original images of the pages suitable for printing and immediate use. contrary to the usual gutenberg guidelines, the page numbers are left to provide easy reference to the original pages. the page images are stored as x gif files to minimize file size and preserve fidelity. on my computer a single sheet page fills an . by inch sheet by setting the print scaling factor to %. a scaling factor of % produces a page the size of the original book ( . x . inches). some files are both facing pages because they are read and sung using both pages. these print in the original size at % scaling in either portrait or landscape format. "your results may vary." where works span several pages, the text is rendered without interruption and all the included pages are listed at the end of the work to provide a search target. the image files are named for easy access. n _p .gif is the first page ( ) of hymn number . n _p .gif is the second page ( ) of hymn number . a description of the header of each item is shown in this example: hymn number: no. occasion or advent theme: title: hark! a mystic voice is sounding en clara vox origin and tr. rev. e. caswall other notes: nicola a. montani [end transcriber's notes] the st. gregory hymnal and catholic choir book compiled, edited and arranged by nicola a. montani a complete collection of approved english and latin hymns, liturgical motets and appropriate devotional music for the various seasons of the liturgical year. particularly adapted to the requirements of choir, schools, academies, seminaries, convents, sodalities and sunday schools. singers' edition melody edition (one line music with complete text) publishers the st. gregory guild rittenhouse st. philadelphia, pa. copyright by nicola a montani british copyright secured all rights reserved printed in u.s.a. nihil obstat j. m. corrigan censor librorum philadelphia, july , imprimatur + d. j. dougherty archiepiscopus philadelphiensis approved by the music committee of the society of st. gregory of america (the society approved by the holy see by rescript no. ) very rev. leo p. manzetti; rev. john m. petter, s. t. b.; rev. simon m. yenn; rev. charles j. marshall, c. s.c. index the st. gregory hymnal english hymns alphabetical index of first lines a no. acts of faith, hope and charity afar upon a foreign shore all glory, laud and honor all ye who seek a comfort sure a message from the sacred heart angels we have heard on high as fades the glowing orb of day at the cross her station keeping ave maria! o maiden, o mother a virgin most pure as the prophets did tell b behold! behold he cometh blessed be god blessed francis, holy father blest is the faith by the first bright easter day by the blood that flowed from thee c christ the lord is risen today come holy ghost, creator come crown him with many crowns d daily, daily sing to mary (a) daily, daily sing to mary (b) dear angel! ever at my side dear crown of all the virgin-choir dear little one! how sweet thou art f faith of our fathers full of glory, full of wonders g gesu bambino glorious patron glory be to jesus god of mercy and compassion great god, whatever through thy church great saint joseph! son of david h hail, all hail, great queen of heaven hail, full of grace and purity hail, glorious saint patrick (no. ) hail, glorious saint patrick (no. ) hail, holy joseph, hail! hail, holy queen enthroned above hail, jesus, hail! hail, mary full of grace hail, queen of heaven hail, rock of ages hail, thou star of ocean hail to thee, true body! hail, virgin, dearest mary! happy we, who thus united hark! a mystic voice is sounding hark! hark! my soul hark! the herald host is singing hear thy children, gentle jesus hear thy children, gentlest mother heart of jesus! golden chalice he who once, in righteous vengeance holy god, we praise thy name holy spirit, lord of light i if great wonders thou desirest i need thee, precious jesus i see my jesus crucified j jerusalem, my happy home jerusalem the golden jesus christ is risen today jesus, creator of the world jesus, ever-loving saviour jesus, food of angels jesus, gentlest saviour jesus, jesus, come to me jesus, lord, be thou mine own jesus, my lord! behold at length the time jesus, my lord, my god, my all jesus, the very thought of thee jesus, thou art coming joseph, pure spouse of that immortal bride l lead us, great teacher paul let the deep organ swell the lay lift up, ye princes of the sky little king, so fair and sweet long live the pope lord, for tomorrow and its needs lord, help the souls which thou hast made lord, who at cana's wedding feast loving shepherd of thy sheep (the good shepherd) m man of sorrows, wrapt in grief mother of christ mother of mercy my god, accept my heart this day my god, i believe in thee my god, i hope in thee my god, i love thee n now at the lamb's high royal feast now let the earth with joy resound o o blessed father sent by god o blessed saint joseph o come, creator spirit! come o come, o come, emmanuel o dearest love divine o dear little children o food to pilgrims given o god of loveliness oh, come and mourn with me awhile o heart of jesus, heart of god o heart of jesus, purest heart o jesus christ, remember o jesus, thou the beauty art o lord, i am not worthy o most holy one o mother! most afflicted o paradise! o paradise o purest of creatures o sacred head surrounded o sing a joyous carol o thou pure light of souls that love o turn to jesus, mother, turn our father, who art in heaven out of the depths, to thee, o lord o'erwhelmed in depths of woe p praise to the holiest in the height praise we our god with joy r raise your voices, vales and mountains remember, holy mary s sacred heart! in accents burning sacred heart of jesus, fount of love saint of the sacred heart see, amid the winter's snow seek ye a patron to defend? silent night holy night sing my tongue, the saviour's glory sleep, holy babe soul of my saviour spirit of grace and union sweet agnes, holy child sweet saviour! bless us ere we go t the divine praises thee prostrate i adore the maid of france with visioned eyes the snow lay on the ground there is an everlasting home the very angels' bread the word, descending from above this is the image of the queen to christ, the prince of peace to jesus' heart all burning to the name that brings salvation u unto him for whom this day w what a sea of tears and sorrows when blossoms flowered 'mid the snows when day's shadows lengthen when morning gilds the skies whither thus in holy rapture? wondrous love that cannot falter why art thou sorrowful? y ye faithful, with gladness ye sons and daughters of the lord (no. ) ye sons and daughters of the lord (no. ) ye souls of the faithful latin hymns and motets index of first lines a no. adeste fideles adoramus te christe ( ) -a adoramus te christe ( ) -b adoramus te panem coelitum adoremus and laudate ( to ) -a-j adoro te devote ( ) -a adoro te devote ( ) -b agnus dei (mass. b. v. m.) agnus dei -- mass of the angels alleluia -d-h alma redemptoris mater alma redemptoris mater "amen dico tibi; hodie mecum" asperges me ave maria ( ) -a ave maria ( ) -b ave maria ( ) -c ave maris stella ( to ) -a-d ave regina coelorum ave regina coelorum ave verum corpus ( ) -a ave verum corpus ( ) -b ave verum corpus ( ) -c ave verum corpus ( ) -d ave verum corpus ( ) -e b beati mortui benedictus (palm sunday) benedictus with antiphon (canticle) benedictus (mass b. v. m.) benedictus missa de angelis bone pastor, panis vere -b c caligaverunt oculi mei christus factus est christus vincit concordi laetitia confirma hoc deus confitemini domino conserva me domine "consummatum est" cor, arca legem continens cor jesu sacratissimum ( ) -a cor jesu sacratissimum ( ) -b cor jesu, salus in te cor mariae immaculatum -a creator alme siderum credeo (no. ) credeo (no. ) de angelis (supplement) cum angelis et pueris d deo gratias (responses) -a to h deus in adjutorium "deus meus" e ecce lignum crucis ecce nomen domini emmanuel ecce panis angelorum ( ) -a ecce panis angelorum ( ) -b ecce quam bonum (psalm ) ecce quomodo moritur ecce sacerdos ecce vidimus eum -a ego sum (antiphon) en clara vox redarguit f forty hours' devotion (page ) programme g gloria in excelsis gloria in excelsis mass of the angels supplement gloria, laus et honor h holy saturday music hosanna filio david i ingrediente in manus tuas in monte oliveti oravit in monte oliveti inviolata ite missa est, deo gratias -j j jesu dulcis memoria ( ) -a jesu dulcis memoria ( ) -b jesu dulcis memoria ( ) -c jesu redemptor omnium ( ) -a jesu redemptor omnium ( ) -b jubilate deo k kyrie eleison (mass b. v. m.) kyrie eleison (requiem responses) -( ) kyrie eleison (mass of the angels supplement) languentibus in purgatorio lauda sion (ecce panis) -b laudate dominum laudate dominum and adoremus -a-j laudate dominum -f laudate dominum -h litany of the blessed virgin mary litany of the saints lucis creator m magnificat mass of the angels mass of the blessed virgin mary miserere illi deus miserere mei deus "mulier, ecce filius tuus" missa brevis unison, , or part chorus nunc dimittis o o bone jesu o cor jesu o emmanuel o esca viatorum ( ) -a o esca viatorum ( ) -b o filii et filiae o gloriosa virginum ( ) -a o gloriosa virginum ( ) -b omnes amici mei o quam suavis est oremus pro pontifici o sacrum convivium o salutaris hostia ( to ) -a to g o sanctissima, o piissima p palm sunday music panis angelicus ( ) -a panis angelicus ( ) -b pange lingua ( ) (tantum ergo) -a pange lingua ( ) (tantum ergo) -b parce domine "pater, dimitte illis" "pater in manus tuas" popule meus pueri hebraerum puer nobis nascitur q quae est ista quam dilecta tabernacula tua r recessit pastor noster regina coeli, jubila regina coeli laetare regina coeli gregorian supplement regnum mundi requiem mass (appendix) requiem responses ( ) resonet in laudibus responses for all occasions responses after the magnificat (page ) s sacerdos et pontifex sacris solemniis (panis angelicus) salve mater misericordiae salve regina coelitum salve regina mater salve regina mater supplement sanctae joseph patronae noster -a sanctus and benedictus (mass b. v. m.) sanctus and benedictus (palm sunday) sanctus and benedictus (mass of the angels) supplement "sitio" stabat mater ( ) -a stabat mater ( ) -b stabat mater ( ) -c sub tuum praesidium ( ) -a sub tuum praesidium ( ) -b suscipe domine t tanquam ad latronem existis tantum ergo ( to ) -a to j te deum laudamus te lucis ante terminum tenebrae factae sunt tollite hostias tota pulchra es, maria tristis est anima mea tu gloria jerusalem u una hora non potuistis vigilare unus ex discipulis meis unison mass supplement v velum templi scissum est veni, creator spiritus ( ) -a veni, creator spiritus ( ) -b veni, sancte spiritus veni sponsa christi veni, veni emmanuel vespere autem sabbati -i vespers b. v. m. (supplement) vexilla regis prodeunt ( ) ( ) ( ) -a, b, c victimae paschali laudes vidi aquam appendix--requiem mass (libera etc.) supplement--mass of the angels, vespers b. v. m., antiphons b. v. m. (simple tones), missa brevis for unison, , or , part chorus ---------- no. advent hark! a mystic voice is sounding en clara vox tr. rev. e. caswall nicola a. montani moderato . hark! a mystic voice is sounding, "christ is nigh," it seems to say. "cast away the dreams of darkness, o ye children of the day." startled at the solemn warning, let the earth-bound soul arise; christ, her sun, all sloth dispelling, shines upon the morning skies. . lo! the lamb so long expected, comes with pardon down from heav'n, let us haste, with tears of sorrow, one and all to be forgiv'n. so when next he comes with glory, wrapping all the earth in fear, may he then as our defender, on the clouds of heav'n appear. pages - copyright by n. a. m. ---------- no. advent o come, o come, emmanuel! processional tr. dr. j. m. neale traditional melody "veni, o sapientiae" maestoso . o come, o come, emmanuel, and ransom captive israel, that mourns in lonely exile here, until the son of god appear. chorus rejoice! rejoice! o israel! to thee shall come emmanuel. . o come thou rod of jesse, free thine own from satan's tyranny; from depths of hell thy people save, and give them vict'ry o'er the grave. . o come, thou day-spring, come and cheer our spirits by thine advent here, disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death's dark shadows put to flight. . o come, o come, thou lord of might, who to thy tribes on sinai's height, in ancient times didst give the law, in cloud, and majesty and awe. page copyright by n. a. m. ---------- no. advent behold! behold he cometh processional translated from the latin s. webbe moderato behold! behold he cometh, who doth salvation bring; lift up your heads rejoicing, and welcome zion's king; with hymns of joy we praise the lord, hosanna to th' incarnate word! hosanna to the saviour, who came on christmas morn, and, of a lowly virgin, was in a stable born; emmanuel! dear jesus, come, within thy children make thy home! yea, come in love and meekness, our saviour now to be; come to be formed in us, and make us like to thee, before the day of wrath draw near, when as our judge thou shalt appear. soon shalt thou sit in glory upon the great white throne, and punish all the wicked, and recompense thine own; when ev'ry word and deed and thought to righteous judgement shall be brought. page copyright by n. a. m. ---------- no. christmas ye faithful, with gladness adeste fideles traditional melody free translation by the rt. rev. hugh t. henry, litt. d., l.l.d. . ye faithful, with gladness, banishing all sadness, o come ye, o come ye to bethlehem! see to us given christ, the king of heaven! chorus while angels hover o'er him, and shepherds kneel before him o come, let us adore him, lord and king. . dear mary, his mother, give to us as brother the lord whom the angels are worshipping: god the eternal light of light supernal! . again sounding o'er us, let the angel chorus the anthem of gladness and triumph sing: "glory be given to the lord of heaven!" . our voices no blending with their songs unending, all-joyful, dear jesus, thy glory sing, be our endeavor thus to praise thee ever! page copyright by n. a. m. ---------- no. christmas see, amid the winter's snow rev. e. caswall traditional melody allegretto . see, amid the winter's snow, born to us on earth below; see the tender lamb appears, promised from eternal years. chorus hail, thou ever blessed morn, hail, redemption's happy dawn! sing through all jerusalem, christ is born in bethlehem. . lo, within a manger lies he who built the starry skies; he, who throned in heights sublime, sits amid the cherubim. . sacred infant all divine, what a tender love was thine; thus to come from highest bliss, down to such a world as this. . teach, oh teach us, holy child, by thy face so meek and mild; teach us to resemble thee in thy sweet humility. . virgin mother, mary blest by the joys the fill thy breast, pray for us, that we may prove worthy of the saviour's love. page copyright by n. a. m. ---------- no. christmas o dear little children carol translated by sister jeanne marie traditional melody arr. by n. a. m. moderato semplice . o dear little children, o come one and all, draw near to the crib, here in bethlehem's stall, and see what a bright ray of heaven's delight our father has sent on this thrice holy night. . o see in the crib low concealing his might, see here by the rays of the clear shining light, in cleanliest swaddle the heavenly child more beauteous than legions of hosts undefiled. . he lies there, o children, on hay and on straw dear mary and joseph regard him with awe, the shepherds, adoring, bow humbly in pray'r, angelical choirs with song rend the air. . o children bend low and adore him today, o lift up your hands like the shepherds and pray, sing joyfully, children, with hearts full of love in jubilant song join the angels above. page ---------- no. christmas angels we have heard on high bishop chadwick nicola. a. montani allegro moderato . angels we have heard on high, sweetly singing o'er the plains, and the mountains in reply echoing their joyous strains. . shepherd, why this jubilee? why your rapturous strains prolong? what may the gladsome tidings be which inspire your heav'nly song? . come to bethlehem, and see him whose birth the angels sing; come, adore on bended knee christ the lord, the newborn king. . see him in a manger laid, whom the choirs of angels praise mary, joseph, lend your aid, while our hearts in love we raise. page copyright by n. a. m. ---------- no. christmas the snow lay on the ground old english carol rev. dr. lingard edv. grieg arr. by n. a. m. non troppo lento . the snow lay on the ground, the stars shone bright when christ our lord was born on christmas night. . 'twas mary, daughter pure of holy anne, that brought into this world the god made man. . she laid him in the stall at bethlehem; the ass and oxen shared the roof with him. . saint joseph to was by, to tend the child; to guard him, and protect his mother mild. . the angels hovered 'round, and sang this song; "venite, adoremus dominum." . and then that manger poor became a throne; for he whom mary bore was god the son. . o come then, let us join the heav'nly host, to praise the father, son and holy ghost. page copyright by n. a. m. ---------- no. christmas stars of glory carol dr. husenbeth s. janowska slowly . stars of glory, shine more brightly, purer be the moonlight's beam, glide, ye hours and moments, lightly, swiftly down time's deepening stream; bring the hour that banished sadness brought redemption down to earth; when the shepherds heard with gladness tidings of the saviour's birth. . see a beauteous angel soaring in the bright celestial blaze, on the shepherds, low adoring rest his mild effulgent rays; "fear not," cries the heav'nly stranger, "him whom ancient seers foretold, weeping in a lowly manger shepherds, haste ye to behold." . see the shepherd quickly rising, hast'ning to the humble stall, and the newborn infant prizing, as the mighty lord of all; lowly now they bend before him in his helpless infant state, firmly faithful, they adore him, and his greatness celebrate. . hark! the swell of heav'nly voices peals along the vaulted sky; angels sing while earth rejoices "glory to our god on high; glory in the highest heaven, peace to humble men on earth;" joy to these and bliss is given in the great redeemer's birth. page - copyright by n. a. m. ---------- no. christmas o sing a joyous carol sister m. b. from "alte katholische geistliche kirchengesang" (koln, )* * catholic melody incorrectly attributed to m. praetorius joyously . o sing a joyful carol unto the holy child, and praise with gladsome voices his mother undefiled. our gladsome voices greeting shall hail our infant king and our sweet lady listens when joyful voices sing. . who is there meekly lying in yonder stable poor? dear children, it is jesus; he bids you now adore. who is there kneeling by him in virgin beauty fair? it is our mother mary, she bids you all draw near. . who is there near the cradle, that guards the holy child? it is our father joseph chaste spouse of mary mild. dear children, oh, how joyful with them in heav'n to be! god grant that none be missing from that festivity. page ---------- no. christmas silent night, holy night fr. gruber arr. by nicola a. montani moderato . silent night, holy night! bethlehem sleeps yet what light floats around the holy pair; songs of angels fill the air strains of heavenly peace, strains of heavenly peace. . silent night, holy night! shepherds first see the light, hear the alleluias ring which the angel chorus sing "christ the savior has come christ the savior has come!" . silent night, holy night! son of god! oh, what light radiates from thy manger bed over realms with darkness spread, thou in bethlehem born, thou in bethlehem born. page copyright by n. a. m. ---------- no. christmas a virgin most pure, as the prophets did tell ancient carol traditional melody arr. by n. a. m. slowly . a virgin most pure, as the prophets did tell, hath brought forth a saviour, as it hath befell, to be our redeemer from death, hell and sin, which adam's transgression had wrapped us in. chorus rejoice and be merry, set sorrow aside jesus our saviour was born on this tide. . in bethlehem city in jewry it was, where joseph and mary together did pass, and there to be taxed with many one more. for caesar commanded the same should be so. . but when they had entered the city so fair, a number of people so mighty was there that mary and joseph, whose substance was small, could procure in the inn no lodging at all. . then they were constrained in a stable to lie, where oxen and asses they used there to tie; their lodging so simple they held it no scorn, but against the next morning a saviour was born. . the king of glory to this world being brought small store of fine linen to wrap him was sought; when mary had swaddled her young son so sweet, within an ox manger she laid him to sleep. . then god sent an angel from heaven so high, to certain poor shepherds in fields where they lie, and charged them no longer in sorrow to stay, because that our saviour was born on this day. . then presently after the shepherds did spy a number of angels appear in the sky; who joyfully talked and sweetly did sing, "to god be all glory, our heavenly king." page copyright by n. a. m. ---------- no. christmas hark! the herald host is singing e. humperdinck joyously . hark! the herald host is singing, thro' the silent holy night, tidings of great joy they're bringing, from yon starry azure height. and each heart is filled with gladness, at the message which they bring; "christ is born, forget all sadness, trust in him, your saviour king!" . and behold the stars bright glowing, shed o'er earth their radiant light, while from angels' lips are flowing anthems thro' the holy night. bright each window now is glowing, lighted by the christmas tree; and each cheek with joy is glowing, and each heart is filled with glee. . soft the messengers from heaven wing their flight from home to home; bearing lessons god hath given unto all the earth that roam. "welcome, welcome christmas evening bringing peace and love to earth!" show your gratitude, rejoicing, christians in your saviour's birth! page - ---------- no. christmas sleep, holy babe (for additional christmas hymns see hymns nos. $ and latin hymns). tr. rev. e. caswall traditional melody semplice . sleep, holy babe, upon thy mothers breast! great lord of earth and sea and sky, how sweet it is to see thee lie in such a place of rest! . sleep, holy babe, thine angels watch around; all bending low with folded wings before th'incarnate king of kings, in rev'rent awe profound. . sleep, holy babe, while i with mary gaze in joy upon that face awhile, upon the loving infant smile, which there divinely plays. . sleep, holy babe, o snatch thy brief repose; too quickly will thy slumber break, and thou to lengthened pains awake, that death alone shall close. page ---------- no. the most holy name o jesus, thou the beauty art jesu, decus angelicum st. bernard tr. rev. e. caswall nicola a. montani andante religioso . o jesus, thou the beauty art of angel worlds above; thy name is music to the heart inflaming it with love celestial sweetness unalloy'd who eat thee hunger still; who drink of thee still feel a void which naught but thee canst fill. . o my sweet jesus, hear the sighs which unto thee i send; to thee mine inmost spirit cries, my being's hope and end. stay with us lord, with thy light illume the soul's abyss; dispel the darkness of the night and fill the world with bliss. page - ---------- no . the most holy name to the name that brings salvation processional dr. j. m. neale nicola a. montani moderato . to the name that brings salvation, honor, worship, let us pay which for many a generation hid in god's foreknowledge lay. but with holy exultation we may sing aloud today. . name of gladness, name of pleasure, by this tongue ineffable name of sweetness passing measure to the ear delectable, 'tis our safeguard and our treasure, 'tis our help 'gainst sin and hell. . 'tis the name for adoration, 'tis the name of victory, 'tis the name for meditation in this vale of misery, 'tis the name for veneration by the citizens on high. . 'tis the name that whoso preaches finds it music to the ear; who in pray'r this name beseeches sweetest comfort findeth near; who its perfect wisdom reacheth heav'nly joy possesseth here. page ---------- no. the most holy name jesus the very thought of thee jesu, dulcis memoria st. bernard tr. rev. e. caswall traditional melody religioso . jesus the very though of thee, with sweetness fills my breast; but sweeter far thy face to see and in thy presence rest. . nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame nor can the mem'ry find a sweeter sound than thy blest name, o saviour of mankind. . o hope of ev'ry contrite heart, o joy of all the meek, to those who fall, how kind thou art, how good to those who seek. . jesus, our only joy be thou, as thou our prize wilt be; o jesus, be our glory now and through eternity. page ---------- no. lent and passiontide he who once, in righteous vengeance ira justa conditoris (feast of the precious blood) tr. rev. e. caswall j. mohr arr. by n. a. m. moderato . he who once, in righteous vengeance, whelm'd the world beneath the flood, once again in mercy cleansed it with the stream of his own blood, coming from his throne on high on the painful cross to die. . blest with this all saving shower, earth her beauty straight resumed; in the place of thorns and briers myrtles sprang and roses bloom'd bitter wormwood of the waste into honey changed its taste. . when before the judge we tremble, conscious of his broken laws, may this blood in that dread hour cry aloud and plead our cause; bid our guilty terrors cease, be our pardon and our peace. page copyright by n. a. m. ---------- no. lent and passiontide "man of sorrows, wrapt in grief" m. bridges from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. andante mod . man of sorrows, wrapt in grief, bow thine ear to our relief; thou for us the path hast trod of the dreadful wrath of god; thou the cup of fire hast drained till its light alone remained. lamb of love! we look to thee; hear our mournful litany. . by the garden, fraught with woe, whither thou full oft wouldst go; by thine agony of prayer in the desolation there; by the dire and deep distress of that myst'ry fathomless; lord, our tears in mercy see; hearken to our litany. . by the chalice brimming o'er with disgrace and torment sore; by those lips which fain would pray that it might but pass away; by the heart which drank it dry, lest a rebel race should die be thy pity, lord our plea; hear our solemn litany. . man of sorrows! let thy grief purchase for us our relief; lord of mercy! bow thine ear, slow to anger, swift to hear; by the cross's royal road lead us to the throne of god, there for aye to sing to thee heav'n's triumphant litany. page - copyright by n. a. m. ---------- no. lent and passiontide by the blood that flowed from thee litany of the passion c. m. caddell nicola. a. montani lento ma non troppo . by the blood that flowed from thee in thy bitter agony; by the scourge so meekly borne; by thy purple robe of scorn; st chorus jesus, saviour, hear our cry! d chorus thou wert suff'ring once as we; tutti we thy children sing to thee. . by the thorns that crowned thy head; by thy sceptre of a reed; by thy footsteps faint and slow weighted beneath thy cross of woe, . by the nails and pointed spear; by thy people's cruel jeer; by thy dying pray'r which rose begging mercy for thy foes. . by the darkness thick as night blotting out the sun from sight; by the cry with which in death thou didst yield thy parting breath. . by thy weeping mother's woe; by the sword that pierced her through, when, in anguish standing by, on the cross she saw thee die. page - ---------- no. lent and passiontide oh come and mourn with me awhile jesus crucified father faber nicola a. montani andante religioso . oh come an mourn with me awhile! see, mary calls us to her side; oh come and let us mourn with her; jesus, our love, is crucified! . have we no tears to shed for him, while soldiers scoff and jews deride? ah! look how patiently he hangs; jesus, our love, is crucified! . how fast his hand and feet are nailed; his blessed tongue with thirst is tied; his failing eyes are blind with blood; jesus, our love, is crucified! . seven times he spoke, seven words of love, and all three hours his silence cried for mercy on the souls of men; jesus, our love, is crucified! . death came, and jesus meekly bowed; his failing eyes he strove to guide with mindful love to mary's face, jesus, our love, is crucified! . come take thy stand beneath the cross and let the blood from out that side fall gently on thee, drop by drop, jesus, our love, is crucified! page ---------- no. lent and passiontide sacred head surrounded "o haupt voll blut und wunden" st. bernard of clairvaux ( - ) melody by h. l. hassler ( ) adaptation as given by j. s. bach in his "st. matthew's passion" largo . o sacred head, surrounded, by crown of piercing thorn! o bleeding head, so wounded, reviled and put to scorn! death's pallid hue come o'er thee the glow of life decays, yet angel hosts adore thee, and tremble as they gaze. . i see thy strength and vigor all fading in the strife, and death, with cruel rigor, bereaving thee of life; o agony and dying! o love to sinners free! jesus, all grace supplying, o turn thy face on me! . in this thy bitter passion, good shepherd, think of me, with thy most sweet compassion, unworthy though i be; beneath thy cross abiding, forever would i rest, in thy dear love confiding, and with thy presence blest. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. lent and passiontide at the cross her station keeping stabat mater jacopone da todi. xiv cent. traditional melody from the maintzesch gesangbuch harmonized by n. a. m. not too slow . at the cross her station keeping, stood the mournful mother weeping, close to jesus to the last. . through her heart, his sorrow sharing, all his bitter anguish bearing, now at length the sword has passed. . o that blessed one, grief laden, blessed mother, blessed maiden, mother of the all-blest one. . how she stood in desolation upward gazing on the passion of that deathless dying son. . who could see, from tears refraining, christ's dear mother uncomplaining in so great a sorrow bowed? . who, unmoved, beheld her languish underneath his cross of anguish, 'mid the fierce unpitying crowd? . for his people's sin th'all holy she beheld, the victim lowly, bleed in torments, bleed and die. . saw her well-beloved taken, saw her child in death forsaken, heard his last expiring cry. . fount of love and sacred sorrow, mother! may my spirit borrow sadness from thy holy woe. . may my spirit burn within me, love my god, and great love win me grace to please him here below. . those five wounds on jesus smitten, mother, in my heart be written, deep as in thine own they be. . thou, my savior's cross who bearest, thou, thy son's rebuke who sharest, let me share them both with thee. . in the passion of my maker be my sinful soul partaker, weep till death, and weep with thee. . mine with thee be that sad station, there to watch the great salvation, wrought upon th'atoning tree. . virgin, thou of virgins fairest, may the bitter woe thou sharest make on me impression deep. . thus christ's dying may i carry, with him in his passion tarry, and his wounds in mem'ry keep. . may his wounds transfix me wholly, may his cross and life blood holy embriate my heart and mind. . thus inflamed with pure affection, in the virgin's son protection may i at the judgment find. . when in death my limbs are failing, let thy mother's pray'r prevailing lift me, jesus, to thy throne. . to my parting soul be given entrance through the gate of heaven, there confess me for thine own. amen page - ---------- no. lent and passiontide i see my jesus crucified nicola a. montani devoto . i see my jesus crucified, his wounded hands and feet and side, his sacred flesh all rent and torn, his bloody crown of sharpest thorn. . those cruel nails, i drove them in, each time i pierced him with my sin that crown of thorns 'twas i who wove, when i despised his gracious love. . then to those feet i'll venture near, and wash them with a contrite tear, and ev'ry bleeding wound i see, i'll think he bore them all for me. . deep graven on my sinful heart, oh, never may that form depart, that with me always may abide the thought of jesus crucified. copyright by n. a. m. page ---------- no. lent and passiontide o'erwhelmed in depths of woe saevo dolorum turbine tr. rev. e. caswall nicola a. montani moderato . o'erwhelmed in depths of woe, upon the tree of scorn hangs the redeemer of mankind, with racking anguish torn. . see! how the nails those hands and feet so tender rend; see! down his face, and neck, and breast, his sacred blood descend. . hark! with what awful cry, his spirit takes its flight; that cry, it smote his mother's heart and wrapt her soul in night. . come, fall before his cross, who shed for us his blood; who dies, the victim of pure love, to make us sons of god. . jesu! all praise to thee, our joy and endless rest; be thou our guide while pilgrims here, our crown amid the blest. copyright by n. a. m. page ---------- no. palm sunday all glory, laud and honor from the latin of st.theodulph by dr. j. m. neale m. haydn maestoso con spirito . all glory, laud, and honor to thee redeemer, king, to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring. refrain all glory, laud, and honor, to thee redeemer, king, to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring. . thou art the king of israel, thou david's royal son, who in the lord's name comest the king and blessed one. . the company of angels are praising thee on high, and mortal men and all things created make reply. . the people of the hebrews with palms before them went; to praise and pray'r and anthems before thee we present. . to thee before thy passion they sang their hymn of praise; to thee now high exalted our melody we raise. . thou didst accept their praises, accept the pray'rs we bring, who in all good delightest, thou good and gracious king. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. eastertide jesus christ is risen today processional surrexit christus hodie translated by the rev. j. o'connor nicola a. montani joyously . jesus christ is ris'n today! (solo) alleluia! (chorus) sinners, wipe your tears away! (solo) alleluia! (chorus) he whose death upon the cross (solo) alleluia! (chorus) saveth us from endless loss. (solo) alleluia! (chorus) . see the holy women come, alleluia! bearing spices to the tomb; alleluia! hear the white-clad angel's voice alleluia! bid the universe rejoice! alleluia! . go! tell all his brethren dear, alleluia! "he is ris'n, he is not here! alleluia! seek him not among the dead; alleluia! he has risen as he said." alleluia! . glory, jesus, be to thee! alleluia! thine own might hath set thee free. alleluia! come, for primal joy restored, alleluia! let us bless our pascal lord! alleluia! copyright by n.a.m. page - ---------- no. eastertide "ye sons and daughters of the lord" (no. ) o filii et filiae processional jean tisserand ( ) tr. rev. e. caswall traditional melody from "airs sur les hymnes sacres, odes et noels," (paris ) maestoso alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . ye sons and daughters of the lord! the king of glory, king adored, this day himself from death restored. alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . all in the early morning grey went holy women on their way, to see the tomb where jesus lay. alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . of spices pure a precious store in their pure hands those women bore, to anoint the sacred body o'er. alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . then straightway one in white they see, who saith, "ye seek the lord; but he is ris'n, and gone to galilee." alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . this told they peter, told they john, who forthwith to the tomb are gone; but peter is by john outrun. alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . that selfsame night, while out of fear the doors were shut, their lord most dear to his apostles did appear. alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . but thomas when of this he heard, was doubtful of his brethren's word; wherefore again there comes the lord. alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . "thomas, behold my side" saith he; "my hands, my feet, my body see, and doubt not, but believe in me." alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . when thomas saw that wounded side, the truth no longer he denied; "thou art my lord and god," he cried. alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . oh, blest are they who have not seen their lord, and yet believe in him: eternal life awaiteth them. alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . now let us praise the lord most high, and strive his name to magnify on this great day through earth and sky: alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . whose mercy ever runneth o'er, whom men and angel hosts adore, to him be glory ever more. alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! copyright by n. a. m. page - - ---------- no. eastertide "ye sons and daughters of the lord" (no. ) o filii et filiae jean tisserand (died ) tr. rev. e. caswall melody taken from the gloria of the magnificat terii toni by giovanni pierluigi da palestrina alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . ye sons and daughters of the lord! the king of glory, king adored, this day himself from death restored. alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! . all in the early morning grey went holy women on their way, to see the tomb where jesus lay. alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! alleluia! note: additional stanzas given in previous hymn ( ). page ---------- no. eastertide now at the lamb's royal feast ad regias agni dapes tr. rev. e. caswall nicola. a. montani allegro moderato . now at the lamb's royal feast, in robes of saintly white, we sing, thro' the red sea in safety brought by jesus our immortal king. o depth of love! for us he drains the chalice of his agony; for us a victim on the cross he meekly lays him down to die. . and as th'avenging angel pass'd of old the blood be-sprinkled door; as the cleft sea a passage gave, then closed to whelm th'egyptians o're; so christ, our paschal sacrifice, has brought us safe all perils thro', while for unleavened bread he asks, but heart sincere and purpose true. . hail, purest victim heav'n could find the pow'rs of hell to overthrow! who didst the bonds of death unbind who dost the prize of life bestow. hail, victor christ! hail, risen king! to thee alone belongs the crown; who has at the heav'nly gates unbarred, and cast the prince of darkness down. . o jesus! from the death of sin keep us, we pray; so shalt thou be the everlasting paschal joy of all the souls newborn in thee; to god the father, with the son who from the grave immortal rose, and thee, o paraclete be praise, while age on endless ages flows. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. eastertide christ the lord is risen today victimae paschali laudes translated by miss leeson nicola a. montani allegro modto . christ the lord is ris'n today; christians, haste your vows to pay; offer ye your praises meet at the paschal victim's feet; for the sheep the lamb hath bled, sinless in the sinner's stead, christ the lord is ris'n on high; now he lives, no more to die. . christ the victim undefiled, man to god hath reconciled, when in strange and awful strife met together death and life; christians, on this happy day haste with joy your vows to pay; christ the lord is ris'n on high; now he lives, no more to die. . say, o wond'ring mary, say what thou sawest on the way, "i beheld, where christ had lain, empty tomb and angels twain, i beheld the glory bright of the rising lord of light; christ my hope is ris'n again; now he lives, and lives to reign." . christ, who once for sinners bled, now the first-born from the dead, thron'd in endless might and pow'r, lives and reigns forever more. hail, eternal hope on high! hail, thou king of victory! hail, thou prince of life ador'd! help and save us, gracious lord! copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. ascension lift up, ye princes of the sky ps. xxiii translated by father aylward from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. with animation . lift up, ye princes of the sky, lift up your portals, lift them high; and you, ye everlasting gates, back on your golden hinges fly; for lo, the king of glory waits to enter in victoriously. who is the king of glory? tell, o ye who sing his praise so well. . the lord of strength and matchless might, the lord all-conquering in the fight, list, lift your portals, lift them high, ye princes of the conquered sky; and you, ye everlasting gates, back on your golden hinges fly; for lo, the king of glory waits, the lord of hosts, the lord most high. copyright by n. a. m page - ---------- no. ascension o thou pure light of souls that love salutis humanae sator translated by father caswall from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. moderato assai . o thou pure light of souls that love, true joy of ev'ry human breast, sower of life's immortal seed, our maker, and redeemer blest! . what wonderous pity thee o'ercame to make our guilty load thine own, and sinless suffer death and shame, for our transgressions to atone! . thou, bursting hades open wide, didst all the captive souls unchain; and thence to thy dread father's side with glorious pomp ascend again. . o still may pity thee compel to heal the wounds of which we die; and take me in thy light to dwell, who for thy blissful presence sigh. . be thou our guide, be thou our goal; be thou our pathway to the skies; our joy when sorrow fills our soul; in death our everlasting prize. copyright by n. a. m. page ---------- no. pentecost holy spirit, lord of light processional tr. rev. e. caswall s. webbe ( - ) marcato . holy spirit, lord of light, from the clear celestial height, thy pure beaming radiance give. come, thou father of the poor, come with treasures which endure; come thou light of all that live. . thou, of all consolers best, thou, the soul's delightsome guest, dost refreshing peace bestow; thou in toil art comfort sweet; pleasant coolness in the heat; solace in the midst of woe. . light immortal, light divine, visit thou these hearts of thine, and our inmost being fill; if thou take thy grace away, nothing pure in man will stay; all his good is turned to ill. . thou, on those who evermore thee confess and thee adore, in thy sev'nfold gifts descend; give them comfort when they die; give them life with thee on high; give them joys that never end. copyright by n. a. m. page ---------- no. pentecost come holy ghost, creator come veni creator spiritus translated by dryden w. a. mozart arr. from the figured bass by n. a. m. melody "o gottes lamm" koch. verz. no. moderato . come, holy ghost, creator come from thy bright heav'nly throne, come, take possession of our souls, and make them all thy own. thou who art called the paraclete, best gift of god above, the living spring, the living fire, sweet unction and true love. . thou who are sev'nfold in thy grace, finger of god's right hand; his promise teaching little ones to speak and understand. o, guide our minds with thy bless'd light with love our hearts inflame; and with thy strength, which ne'er decays, confirm our mortal frame. . through thee may we the father know, thro' thee th'eternal son, and thee, the spirit of the both, thrice blessed three in one. all glory to the father be, with his coequal son; the same to thee, great paraclete, while endless ages run. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. pentecost o come, creator spirit! come veni creator spiritus translated by father faber k. kurpinski lento . o come creator spirit come, vouchsafe to make our minds thy home and with thy heav'nly grace fulfil the hearts thou madest at thy will. . thou that are named the paraclete, the gift of god, his spirit sweet; the living fountain, fire, and love, and gracious unction from above. . the sev'nfold grace thou dost expand, o finger of the father's hand; true promise of the father, rich in gifts of tongues and various speech. . to god the father let us raise and to his only son, our praise, praise to the holy spirit be now, and for all eternity. copyright by n. a. m. page ---------- no. pentecost spirit of grace and union qui procedis ab utroque adam of st. victor nicola a. montani moderato . spirit of grace and union! who from the father and the son dost equally proceed. inflame our hearts with holy fire our lips with eloquence inspire, and strengthen us in need. . the father and the son through thee are linked in perfect unity and everlasting love; ineffably thou dost pervade all nature; and thyself unsway'd the whole creation move. . o inexhaustive fount of light! how doth thy radiance put to flight the darkness of the mind! the pure are only pure through thee; thou only dost the guilty free, and cheer with light the blind. . lord of all sanctity and might! immense, immortal, infinite! the life of earth and heav'n! be, through eternal length of days, all honor, glory, blessing, praise, and adoration giv'n! copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. the holy trinity o god of loveliness o bello dio, signor del paradiso translated by rev. e. vaughan, c. ss. r. traditional melody "schonster herr jesu" pilgrims' song dating from the time of the crusades. adapted by n. a. m. andante maestoso . o god of loveliness, o lord of heav'n above how worthy to posses my heart's devoted love! so sweet thy countenance, so gracious to behold, that one, one only glance to me were bliss untold. . thou art blest three in one, yet undivided still; thou art that one alone whose love my heart can fill. the heav'ns and earth below, were fashioned by thy word; how amiable art thou, my ever dearest lord! . to think thou art my god, o thought forever blest! my heart has overflowed with joy within my breast. my soul so full of bliss is plunged as in a sea, deep in the sweet abyss of holy charity. . o loveliness supreme, and beauty infinite; o everflowing stream, and ocean of delight; o life by which i live, my truest life above, to thee alone i give my undivided love. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. the holy trinity holy god, we praise thy name te deum laudamus translated by rev. clarence walworth ( - ) melody from the "katholisches gesangbuch" ( ) maestoso . holy god, we praise thy name, lord of all, we bow before thee; all on earth thy sceptre claim; all in heav'n above adore thee, infinite thy vast domain, everlasting is thy reign, . hark! the loud celestial hymn, angel choirs above are raising! cherubim and seraphim in unceasing chorus praising; fill the heav'ns with sweet accord; holy, holy, holy lord! . holy father, holy son, holy spirit, three we name thee, while in essence only one, undivided god we claim thee; and adoring bend the knee, while we own the mystery. copyright by n. a. m. page ---------- no. the holy trinity full of glory, full of wonders processional father faber nicola a. montani allegro moderato . full of glory, full of wonders, majesty divine 'mid thine everlasting thunders how thy lightnings shine! shoreless ocean! who shall sound thee? thine own eternity is round thee, majesty divine, majesty divine! . timeless, spaceless, single, lonely, yet sublimely three, thou art grandly, always, only god in unity! lone in grandeur, lone in glory, who shall tell thy wonderous story, awful trinity, awful trinity? . splendors upon splendors beaming change and intertwine! glories over glories streaming all translucent shine! blessings, praises, adorations greet thee from the trembling nations majesty divine, majesty divine! copyright by n. a. m. page ---------- no. our blessed lord i need thee, precious jesus (communion hymn) for additional communion hymns see nos. , , , , , , . from a slovak hymn arr. by n. a. m. with devotion . i need thee, precious jesus i need a friend like thee; a friend to soothe and sympathize, a friend to care for me. i need thy heart, sweet jesus, to feel each anxious care; i long to tell my ev'ry want, and all my sorrows share. . i need thy blood, sweet jesus, to wash each sinful stain; to cleanse this sinful soul of mine, and make it pure again. i need thy wounds, sweet jesus, to fly from perils near, to shelter in these hallowed clefts, from ev'ry doubt and fear. . i need thee, sweetest jesus, in thy sacrament of love; to nourish this poor soul of mine, with treasures of thy love. i'll need thee, sweetest jesus, when death's dread hour draws nigh, to hide me in thy sacred heart, till wafted safe on high. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. our blessed lord when morning gilds the skies (may jesus christ be praised) processional translated by father caswall traditional melody ( ) moderato . when morning gilds the skies, (solo voices ad lib) my heart awaking cries: may christ be praised! (chorus) alike at work and prayer: (solo voices) to jesus i repair: may christ be praised! may christ be praised! (chorus) . the sacred minster bell, it peals o'er hill and dell: may christ be praised! oh! hark to what it sings: as joyously it rings: may christ be praised! may christ be praised! . to thee, my god above, i cry with glowing love: may christ be praised! the fairest graces spring in hearts the ever sing: may christ be praised! may christ be praised! . to god the word on high, the host of angels cry: may christ be praised! may mortals, to upraise their voice in hymn of praise: may christ be praised! may christ be praised! . let earth's wide circle round in joyful notes resound: may christ be praised! let air and sea and sky, from depths to heights reply: may christ be praised! may christ be praised! . be this, while life is mine, my canticle divine: may christ be praised! be this th'eternal song, through all the ages on: may christ be praised! may christ be praised! copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. our blessed lord crown him with many crowns processional matthew bridges nicola a. montani with expression . crown him with many crowns, the lamb upon the throne; hark, how the heav'nly anthem drowns all music but its own; awake, my soul and sing of him who dies for thee, and hail him as thy matchless king thro' all eternity. . crown him the virgin's son, the god incarnate born; whose arm those crimson trophies won, which now his brow adorn! fruit of the mystic rose, as of the rose the stem; the root whence mercy ever flows, the babe of bethlehem. . crown him the lord of love: behold his hands and side, rich wounds, yet visible above in beauty glorified: no angel in the sky can fully bear that sight, but downward bends his burning eye at mysteries so bright. . crown him the lord of peace, whose pow'r a sceptre sways from pole to pole, that wars may cease, absorbed in pray'r and praise: his reign shall know no end, and round his pier-ced feet fair flow'rs of paradise extend their fragrance ever sweet. . crown him the lord of heaven, one with the father known, and the blest spirit through him giv'n from yonder triune throne: all hail, redeemer, hail! for thou hast died for me; thy praise shall never, never fail thro'out eternity. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. our blessed lord jesus, lord, be thou mine own mondo, piu, per me non sei communion hymn st. alphonsus don lorenzo perosi tr. rev. e. vaughan, c. ss. r. moderato . jesus lord, be thou mine own; thee i long for, thee alone; all myself, i give to thee; do whate'er thou wilt with me. . life without thy love would be death, o sovereign good, to me; bound and held by thy dear chains captive now my heart remains. . thou, o god, my heart inflame, give that love which thou dost claim; payment i will ask for none; love demands but love alone. . god of beauty, lord of light, thy good will is my delight; now henceforth thy will divine ever shall in all be mine. copyright by n. a. m. page ---------- no. our blessed lord loving shepherd of thy sheep the good shepherd processional pastor amans miss j. e. leeson ( - ) adaptation of a litany melody from catholic hymntunes (publ. ; j.m.capes) moderato . loving shepherd of thy sheep keep me, lord in safety keep; nothing can thy pow'r withstand, none can pluck me from thy hand. loving shepherd, thou didst give thine own life that i might live; may i love thee day by day, gladly thy sweet will obey. . loving shepherd, ever near, teach me still thy voice to hear; suffer not my step to stray from the strait and narrow way. where thou leadest may i go, walking in thy steps below; then before thy father's throne, jesus, claim me for thine own. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. the blessed sacrament the very angels' bread panis angelicus tr. by rt. rev. msgr. h. t. henry, litt.d. p. meurers slowly . the very angels' bread doth food to men afford; the types have vanished, remains the truth adored: o wonderous mystery their banquet is the lord the poor and lowly, bond and free. . o god forever blest, o three in one, we pray: visit the longing breast enter this house of clay, and lead us through the night unto the perfect day where dwellest thou in endless light. copyright by n. a. m. page ---------- no. the blessed sacrament soul of my saviour anima christi l. dobici slowly: with devotion . soul of my savior sanctify my breast, body of christ, be thou my saving guest; blood of my saviour bathe me in thy tide; wash me, ye waters gushing from his side. . strength and protection may his passion be, o blessed jesus, hear and answer me; deep in thy wounds, lord, hide and shelter me; so shall i never, never part from thee. . guard and defend me from the foe malign; in death's drear moments make me only thine; call me and bid me come to thee on high, where i may praise thee with thy saints for aye. page ---------- no. the blessed sacrament thee prostrate i adore (adoro te devote) st. thomas aquinas translated by father aylward, o. p. nicola a. montani moderato devoto . thee prostrate i adore, the deity that lies beneath these humble veils, concealed from human eyes; my heart doth wholly yield, subjected to thy sway, for contemplating thee it wholly faints away. chorus hail, jesus, hail; do thou, good shepherd of the sheep, increase in all true hearts the faith they fondly keep. . the sight, the touch, the taste, in thee are here deceived; but by the ear alone this truth is safe believed; i hold whate'er the son of god hath said to me; than this blest word of truth no word can truer be, . i see not with mine eyes, thy wounds, as thomas saw; yet own thee for my god with equal love and awe; oh grant me, that my faith may ever firmer be, that all my hope and love may still repose in thee. . memorial sweet, that shows the death of my dear lord; thou living bread, that life dost unto man afford; oh grant, that this my soul may ever live on thee, that thou mayst evermore its only sweetness be. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. the blessed sacrament jesus, gentlest saviour thanksgiving after communion for additional communion hymns see nos. , , , , to . father faber nicola a. montani andante semplice . jesus, gentlest saviour! god of might and pow'r! thou thyself art dwelling in us at this hour. nature cannot hold thee, heav'ns is all too strait for thine endless glory and thy royal state. . out beyond the shining of the furthest star, thou art ever stretching infinitely far. yet the hearts of children hold what words cannot, and the god of wonders loves the lowly spot. . oh, how can we thank thee for a gift like this, gift that truly maketh heav'ns eternal bliss! ah! when wilt thou always make our hearts thy home? we must wait for heaven then the day will come. . now at least we'll keep thee all the time we may; but thy grace and blessing we will keep alway. when our hearts thou leavest worthless tho' they be, give them to thy mother to be kept for thee. page ---------- no. the blessed sacrament the word, descending from above verbum supernum prodiens st. thomas aquinas translated by the rev. e. caswall nicola a. montani non troppo lento . the word descending from above, though with the father still on high, went forth upon his work of love; and soon to life's last eve drew nigh. . he shortly to a death accursed by a disciple shall be giv'n; but, to his twelve disciples, first he gives himself, the bread of heav'n. . himself in either kind he gave; he gave his flesh, he gave his blood; of flesh and blood all men are made; and he of man would be the food. . at birth our brother he became; at meat himself as food he gives; to ransom us he died in shame; as our reward, in bliss he lives. . o saving victim open wide the gate of heav'n to man below! sore press our foes from ev'ry side; thine aid supply, thy strength bestow. . to thy great name be endless praise, immortal godhead, one in three! oh, grant us endless length of days, in out true native land, with thee. copyright by n. a. m. page ---------- no. the blessed sacrament hail to thee! true body ave verum corpus j. f. kloss translated by father caswall arr. by n. a. m. con anima hail to thee, true body sprung from the virgin mary's womb! the same that on the cross was hung, and bore for man the bitter doom! thou, whose side was pierc'd and flow'd both with water and with blood; suffer us to taste of thee, in our life's last agony. son of mary, jesus blest! sweetest, gentlest, holiest! copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. . the blessed sacrament sing, my tongue, the saviour's glory pange lingua gloriosi tr. rev. e. caswall m. haydn . sing, my tongue, the saviour's glory, of his flesh the myst'ry sing; of the blood all price exceeding shed by our immortal king, destined, for the world's redemption, from a noble womb to spring, . of a pure and spotless virgin born for us on earth below, he, as man, with man conversing, stayed, the seeds of truth to sow; then he closed in solemn order wonderously his life of woe. . on the night of that last supper, seated with his chosen band, he the paschal victim eating, first fulfills the law's command; then, as food to his apostles gives himself with his own hand. . word made flesh, the bread of nature by his word to flesh he turns; wine into his blood he changes: what through sense no change discerns? only be the heart in earnest, faith her lesson quickly learns. tantum ergo sacramentum . down in adoration falling, lo! the sacred host we hail; lo! o'er ancient forms departing, newer rites of grace prevail; faith for all defects supplying, where the feeble senses fail. . to the everlasting father, and the son who reigns on high, with the holy ghost proceeding forth from each eternally, be salvation, honor, blessing, might, and endless majesty. amen. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. the blessed sacrament jesus, my lord, my god, my all father faber nicola a. montani slowly . jesus, my lord, my god, my all! how can i love thee as i ought? and how revere this wondrous gift, so far surpassing hope or thought? refrain sweet sacrament! we thee adore! oh, make us love thee more and more. (repeat refrain ad lib) . had i but mary's sinless heart to love thee with my dearest king! oh, with what bursts of fervent praise thy goodness, jesus! would i sing! . thy body, soul, and godhead all! o mystery of love divine! i cannot compass all i have, for all thou hast and art are mine. . sound, sound his praises higher still, and come, ye angels, to our aid; 'tis god! 'tis god! the very god, whose pow'r both man and angels made! copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. the blessed sacrament jesus, food of angels communion hymn partendo dal mondo translated by father e. vaughan, c. s. s. r. ch. gounod arr. by n. a. m. andante religioso . jesus, food of angels, monarch of the heart; oh, that i could never from thy face depart! yes, thou ever dwellest here for love of me, hidden thou remainest, god of majesty. . soon i hope to see thee, and enjoy thy love, face to face, sweet jesus, in thy heav'n above. but on earth an exile my delight shall be ever to be near thee veiled for love of me. copyright by n. a. m. page ---------- no. the blessed sacrament o jesus christ, remember gesu sacramentato father caswall nicola a. montani with devotion . o jesus christ, remember, when thou shalt come again, upon the clouds of heaven, with all thy shining train; when ev'ry eye shall see thee in deity revealed, who now upon this altar in silence art concealed; . remember then, o saviour, i supplicate of thee, that here i bowed before thee upon my bended knee; that here i owned thy presence, and did not thee deny; and glorified thy greatness, though hid from human eye. . accept divine redeemer, the homage of my praise; be thou the light and honor and glory of my days; be thou my consolation when death is drawing nigh; be thou my only treasure through all eternity. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. the blessed sacrament wondrous love that cannot falter (hymn of the association of perpetual adoration) tr. rt. rev. msgr. h. t. henry ch. gounod arr. by n. a. m. andante con espressione . wondrous love that cannot falter! jesus in the host doth dwell day and night upon the alter near to those he loves so well. refrain low in endless worship bent, praise the blessed sacrament. . angel hosts are hushed in wonder and adore with folded wings: for the lowly species under, hidden lies the king of kings. . tho' the heav'nly choir rejoices praise and sing his loving ear seeks the tribute of our voices: 'tis for us he waiteth here! . all he hath in highest heaven veiled in the host we see: and to us the care is given of his wondrous poverty. . bread of angels! who can measure all it means? this daily food and the daily granted treasure of his sacrificial blood? . bending low in adoration ever constant let us be, making jesus reparation for the worlds in constancy. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. the blessed sacrament o food to pilgrims given o esca viatorum th century h. isaak ( ) translated by rt. rev. msgr. h. t. henry, litt.d. harmonized by j. s. bach slowly . o food of pilgrims given, bread of the hosts of heaven thou manna of the sky! feed with the blessed sweetness, of thy divine completeness the hearts that for thee sigh. . o fountain ruby glowing, o stream of love outflowing from jesus' pierc-ed side! this thought alone shall bless us this one desire possess us, to drink of thy sweet tide. . we love thee, jesu tender who hid'st thine awful splendor beneath these veils of grace: o let the veils be riven, and our clear eye in heaven behold thee face to face! copyright by n. a. m. page ---------- no. the sacred heart o heart of jesus, heart of god lady g. fullerton nicola. a. montani moderato . o heart of jesus, heart of god, o source of boundless love; by angels praised, by saints adored from their bright throne above. the poorest, saddest heart on earth, may claim thee for its own; o burning, throbbing heart of christ, too late, too little known. . the hearts of men are often hard and full of selfish care; but in the sacred heart we find a refuge from despair. to thee, my jesus, then i come, a poor and helpless child; and on thine own words "come to me," my only hope i build. . the world is cold, and life is sad, i crave this blessed rest of those who lay their weary heads upon thy sacred breast. for love is stronger far than death, and who can love like thee, my saviour, whose appealing heart broke on the cross for me? copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. the sacred heart sacred heart of jesus, fount of love from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a .m. slowly . sacred heart of jesus, fount of love and mercy, today we come thy blessing to implore; oh, touch our hearts, so cold and so ungrateful, and make them, lord, thine own forever more. refrain sacred heart of jesus! we implore, oh, makes us love thee more and more. . sacred heart of jesus! make us know and love thee, unfold to us the treasures of thy grace, that so our hearts, from things of earth up lifted, may long alone to gaze upon thy face. . sacred heart of jesus! make us pure and gentle, and teach us how to do thy blessed will; to follow close the print of thy dear footsteps, and when we fall sacred heart, oh, love us still. . sacred heart of jesus! bless all hearts that love thee, and thine own heart ever blessed be; bless us, dear lord, and bless the friends we cherish, and keep us true to mary and to thee. copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. the sacred heart jesus, creator of the world (auctor beate saeculi) unison or two-part chorus translated by father caswall j. d' hooghe andantino . jesus, creator of the world! of all mankind redeemed blest! true god of god! in whom we see the father's image clear expressed. . thee, saviour, love alone constrain'd to make our mortal flesh thine own; and as a second adam come, for the first adam to atone. . that self same love that made the sky, which made the sea, and stars, and earth, took pity on our misery, and broke the bondage of our birth. . o jesu! in thy heart divine may that same love forever glow, forever mercy to mankind, from that exhaustless fountain flow. . for this thy sacred heart was pierced, and both with blood and water ran; to cleanse us from the stains of guilt, and be the hope of strength of man. . to god the father, and the son, all praise, and pow'r, and glory be; with thee, o holy paraclete, henceforth through a eternity. page - ---------- no. the sacred heart to jesus' heart all burning aloys schlor nicola a. montani slowly . to jesus' heart, all burning with fervent love for men, my heart with fondest yearning shall raise its joyful strain. refrain while ages course along, blest be with the loudest song the sacred heart of jesus by ev'ry heart and tongue! . too true i have forsaken thy love by wilful sin; yet now let me be taken back by thy grace again. . as thou art meek and lowly, and ever pure of heart, so may my heart be wholly of thine the counterpart, . o that to me were given the pinions of a dove, i'd speed aloft to heaven, my jesus' love to prove. . when life away is flying, and earth's false glare is done; still, sacred heart, in dying i'll say i'm all thine own. page - ---------- no. the sacred heart heart of jesus! golden chalice processional bishop casartelli ch. gounod arr. by n. a. m. slowly with devotion . heart of jesus! golden chalice brimming with the ruddy wine, trodden in the press of fury, purest juice of truest vine, from the vineyards of engeddi, quench this thirsty heart of mine. . heart of jesus! comb of honey from the cleft of calvary's rock, sweetness coming from the strong one, dripping from the green-wood stock; famishing of death is on us: feed, oh, feed thy hungry flock! . heart of jesus! rose of sharon glist'ning with the dew of tears, all among the thorny prickles lo! thy blood-stained head appears! spread thy fragrance all around us, sweetly lulling all our fears! . heart of jesus! broken vial full of precious spikenard! alabaster vase of ointment! see, our souls are sore and hard: let thy healing virtue touch them, and from sin's corruption guards! page ---------- no. the sacred heart to christ, the prince of peace summi panentis filio processional tr. rev. e. caswall nicola a. montani with spirit . to christ, the prince of peace, and son of god most high, the father of the world to come, sing we with holy joy. deep in his heart for us the wound of love he bore; that love, wherewith he still inflames the hearts that him adore. . o jesus! victim blest! what else but love divine, could thee constrain to open thus that sacred heat of thine? o fount of endless life! o spring of water clear! o flame celestial cleansing all who unto thee draws near. . hide me in thy dear heart, for thither do i fly; there seek thy grace thro' life, in death thine immortality. praise to the father be, and sole begotten son, praise, holy paraclete, to thee while endless ages run. page ---------- no. the sacred heart o heart of jesus, purest heart (cor jesu, cor purissimum) translated by father m. russell, s. j. traditional melody con anima . o heart of jesus, purest heart, a shrine of holiness thou art; cleanse thou, my heart, so sordid cold, and stained by sins so manifold. . take from me, lord, this tepid will, which doth thy heart with loathing fill; and then infuse a spirit new, a fervent spirit, deep and true. . most humble heart of all that beat, heart full of goodness, meek and sweet, give me a heart more like to thine, and light the flame of love in mine. . but, ah, were e'en my heart on fire with all the seraphim's desire, till love a conflagration proved, not yet wouldst thou enough be loved. page ---------- no. the sacred heart o dearest love divine rt. rev. msgr. h. t. henry, litt. d. nicola a. montani andante devoto . o dearest love divine, my heart to thee i give, exchanging it for thine, that thou in me may'st live. most loving and most meek, hearts only dost thou seek: o may my heart but prove a love like thine, sweet love! . who can requite the love shown in the wondrous plan, whereby the god above for me became a man? thou say'st "give me thy heart!" with it i freely part hoping that it may prove a love like thine, sweet love! . thy heart is opened wide that, freely ent'ring in, i may thy guest abide, and new life begin. this doest thou, to gain my love, and e'er retain: o may my answer prove a love like thine, sweet love! . here in thy heart i find a haven of sweet rest, an ever-quite mind, a mansion of the blest. rock that was cleft for me, behold, i fly to thee, like a world-weary dove, home to its mated love! page ---------- no. the sacred heart sacred heart! in accents burning sacred song eleanor c. donnelly (by permission) ch. gounod adapted and arr. by n. a. montani moderato . sacred heart in accents burning pour we forth our love of thee; here our hopes and here our yearnings meet and mingle tenderly. heart of mercy ever eager, all our woes and wounds to heal! heart, most patient, heart most pure! to our souls, thy depths reveal. refrain sacred heart of our redeemer! pierced with love on calvary! heart of jesus ever loving, make us burn with love of thee! praise to thee! o sacred heart! . heart of bounty thou art bringing all thy thirsting children here, where the living waters springing tell of hope and comfort near. o thou source of ev'ry blessing! sweetest, strongest, holiest, blest! be our treasure here on earth, and in heav'n be thou our rest. page - ---------- no. the sacred heart all ye who seek a comfort sure (old office of the sacred heart) translated by father caswall nicola a. montani maestoso . all ye who seek a comfort sure in trouble and distress, whatever sorrow vex the mind, or guilt the soul oppress: jesus, who gave himself for you upon the cross to die, opens to you his sacred heart; oh, to that heart draw nigh! . ye hear how kindly he invites; ye hear his words so blest: "all ye that labor, come to me, and i will give you rest." what meeker than the saviour's heart? as on the cross he lay; it did his murderers forgive, and for their pardon pray. . o heart! thou joy of saints on high, thou hope of sinners here! attracted by these loving words, to thee i lift my pray'r. wash thou my wounds in that dear blood which forth from thee doth flow, new grace, new hope, inspire; a new and better heart bestow. page - ---------- no. the sacred heart a message from the sacred heart father m. russell nicola a. montani allegro moderato . a message from the sacred heart; what may its message be? "my child, my child, give me thy heart my heart has bled for thee." this is the message jesus sends to my poor heart today, and eager from his throne he bends to hear what i shall say. . a message to the sacred heart; oh, bear it back with speed; "come, jesus, reign within my heart thy heart is all i need." thus, lord, i'll pray until i share that home whose joy thou art; no message, dearest jesus, there, for heart will speak to heart. page ---------- no. the sacred wounds there is an everlasting home m. bridges m. mattoni slowly . there is an everlasting home where contrite souls may hide, where death and danger dare not come the saviour's side. . it was cleft of matchless love open'd when he had died: when mercy hailed in worlds above that wounded side. . hail, rock of ages, pierced for me, the grave of all my pride; hope, peace and heav'n are all in thee, thy shelt'ring side. . there issued forth a double flood, the sin atoning tide, in streams of water and of blood from that dear side. . there is the only fount of bliss, in joy and sorrow tried; no refuge for the heart like this a saviour's side. . thither the church, thro' all her days points as a faithful guide; and celebrates with ceaseless praise that spear-pierced side. . there is the golden gate of heav'n, an entrance for the bride, where the sweet crown of life is giv'n through jesus' side. page ---------- no. the sacred wounds hail, rock of ages (from the hymn "there is an everlasting home" no. ) m. bridges nicola a. montani moderato (alla breve) . hail, rock of ages, pierced for me, the grave of all my pride: hope, peace and heav'n are all in thee, thy shelt'ring side. . there issued forth a double flood the sin atoning tide, in streams of water and of blood from that dear side. . there is the only fount of bliss, in joy and sorrow tried; no refuge for the heart like this a saviour's side. . there is the golden gate of heav'n, an entrance for the bride, where the sweet crown of life is giv'n, through jesus' side. page ---------- no. the precious blood hail, jesus, hail! (viva! viva! gesu) from the italian by father faber nicola a. montani con spirito . hail, jesus, hail! who for my sake sweet blood from mary's veins didst take, and shed it all for me; oh, blessed by my saviour's blood, my life, my light, my only good, to all eternity, to all eternity. . to endless ages let us praise the precious blood, whose price could raise the world from wrath and sin; whose streams our inward thirst appease, and heal the sinner's worst disease, if he but bathe therein, if he but bathe therein. . oh, to be sprinkled from the wells of christ's own sacred blood, excels earth's best and highest bliss: oh ministers of wrath divine hurt not the happy hearts that shine with those red drops of his, with those red drops of his. . ah! there is joy amid the saints, and hell's despairing courage faints when this sweet song we raise: oh louder then, and louder still, earth with one mighty chorus fill, the precious blood to praise, the precious blood to praise. page - ---------- no. the precious blood glory be to jesus (viva! viva! gesu) see also hymn no. tr. rev. e. caswall nicola a. montani allegro modto . glory be to jesus, who in bitter pains poured for me the life-blood from his sacred veins. grace and life eternal in that blood i find; blest be his compassion, infinitely kind! . blest thro' endless ages be the precious stream, which from endless torment doth the world redeem! there the fainting spirit drinks of life her fill; there, as in a fountain, laves herself at will. . abel's blood for vengeance pleading to the skies; but the blood of jesus for our pardon cries. oft as it is sprinkled on our guilty hearts, satan in confusion terror-struck departs. . oft as earth exulting wafts its praise on high, hell with terror trembles, heav'n is filled with joy. lift ye, then, your voices, swell the mighty flood; louder still, and louder praise the precious blood. page ---------- no. the blessed virgin hail, thou star of ocean! ave maris stella translated by father caswall m. taddei andante religioso . hail, thou start of the ocean! portal of the sky, ever virgin mother of the lord most high! . oh! by gabriel's ave, uttered long ago, eva's name reversing, 'stablish peace below. . break the captive's fetters; light on blindness pour; all our ills expelling, ev'ry bliss implore. . show thyself a mother; offer him our sighs, who for us incarnate did not thee despise. . virgin of all virgins! to thy shelter take us; gentlest of the gentle! chaste and gentle make us. . still as on we journey, help our weak endeavor; till with thee and jesus we rejoice forever. . thro' the highest heaven, to the almighty three, father son, holy spirit, one same glory be. page ---------- no. the blessed virgin ave maria! o maiden, o mother star of the sea sister m. from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. slowly: with expression . ave maria! o maiden, o mother, fondly thy children are calling on thee, thine are the graces unclaimed by another, sinless and beautiful star of the sea! refrain mater amabilis, ora pro nobis! pray for thy children who call upon thee; ave sanctissima! ave purissima! sinless and beautiful star of the sea! . ave maria! the night shades are falling, softly our voices arise unto thee, earth's lonely exiles for succor are calling, sinless and beautiful star of the sea! . ave maria! thy children are kneeling, words of endearment are murmured to thee; softly thy spirit upon us is stealing sinless and beautiful star of the sea! . ave maria! thou portal of heaven, harbor of refuge, to thee we do flee: lost in the darkness, by stormy winds driven, shine on our pathway, fair star of the sea! page - ---------- no. the blessed virgin daily, daily sing to mary (a) omni die dic mariae st. casimir translated by father bittlestone traditional melody arr. by n. a. m. with spirit . daily, daily sing of mary, sing, my soul, her praises due; all her feats, her actions worship with the hearts devotion true. lost in wond'ring contemplation, be her majesty confest! call her mother, call her virgin, happy mother, virgin blest! . she is mighty to deliver; call her, trust her lovingly: when the tempest rages round thee, she will calm the troubled sea. gifts of heaven she has given noble lady! to our race: she, the queen, who decks her subjects with the light of god's own grace. . sing my tongue, the virgin's trophies, who for us our maker bore; for the curse of old inflicted, peace and blessing to restore. sing the songs of praise unending sing the world's majestic queen. weary not nor faint in telling all the gifts she gives to men. . all my senses, heart, affections, strive to sound her glory forth: spread abroad the sweet memorials of the virgin's priceless worth: where the voice of music thrilling, where the tongue of eloquence, that can utter hymns beseeming all her matchless excellence? page - ---------- no. the blessed virgin daily, daily sing to mary (b) st. casimir processional father bittlestone nicola. a. montani allegre modto . daily, daily sing of mary, sing, my soul, her praises due; all her feats, her actions worship with the hearts devotion true. lost in wond'ring contemplation, be her majesty confest! call her mother, call her virgin, happy mother, virgin blest! call her mother, call her virgin, happy mother, virgin blest! . she is mighty to deliver; call her, trust her lovingly: when the tempest rages round thee, she will calm the troubled sea. gifts of heaven she has given noble lady! to our race: she, the queen, who decks her subjects with the light of god's own grace. she, the queen, who decks her subjects with the light of god's own grace. . sing my tongue, the virgin's trophies, who for us our maker bore; for the curse of old inflicted, peace and blessing to restore. sing the songs of praise unending sing the world's majestic queen. weary not nor faint in telling all the gifts she gives to men. weary not nor faint in telling all the gifts she gives to men. . all my senses, heart, affections, strive to sound her glory forth: spread abroad the sweet memorials of the virgin's priceless worth: where the voice of music thrilling, where the tongue of eloquence, that can utter hymns beseeming all her matchless excellence? that can utter hymns beseeming all her matchless excellence? page - ---------- no. the blessed virgin mother of mercy mater misericordiae father faber s. m. yenn andante religioso . mother of mercy, day by day, my love of thee grows more and more; thy gifts are strewn upon my way like sands upon the great seashore. thy gifts are strewn upon my way like sands upon the great seashore. . though poverty and work and woe the masters of my life may be, when times are worst who does not know darkness is light with love of thee? when times are worst who does not know darkness is light with love of thee? . but scornful men have coldly said thy love was leading me from god; and yet in this i did but tread the very path my saviour trod. and yet in this i did but tread the very path my saviour trod. . they know but little of thy worth who speak the heartless words to me, for what did jesus love on earth one half so tenderly as thee? for what did jesus love on earth one half so tenderly as thee? copyright by n. a. m. page - ---------- no. the blessed virgin hail, all hail, great queen of heaven! our lady of lourdes processional (the melody of hymn no. "daily, daily" may be used with this text, with repetition of the last two lines of the refrain.) traditional melody ( ) "pone luctum" with spirit . hail! all hail, great queen of heaven! hail! sweet notre dame de lourdes, 'neath whose care our weary exile is from countless ills secured! refrain then let men and angels praise thee for each blessing thou'st procured, while in gladsome strains we're singing, hail! sweet notre dame de lourdes! . blest be thou above all others, mary, mistress of the spheres, star of hope, serenely beaming thro' this darksome vale of tears. . happy angels joy to own thee, o'er their choirs exalted high, thron'd in blissful light and beauty, empress of the starry sky. . as the fount is still unsealing its pure treasure softly fair, may each drop be fraught with healing, dearest mother, at thy pray'r. note: for congregational singing it is suggested that the hymn be transposed a full tone lower. page - ---------- no. the blessed virgin o purest of creatures the immaculate conception father faber nicola a. montani slowly . o purest of the creatures! sweet mother, sweet maid! the one spotless womb wherein jesus was laid! dark night hath come down on us mother! and we look out for thy shining, sweet star of the sea! look out for thy shining, sweet star of the sea! . deep night hath come down on this rough-spoken world, and the banners of darkness are boldly unfurl'd: and the tempest-tost church all her eyes are on thee, they look to thy shining, sweet star of the sea! they look to thy shining, sweet star of the sea! . the church doth what god had first taught her to do; he looked o'er the world to find hearts that were true; thro' the ages he looked, and he found none but thee, and he loved thy clear shining, sweet star of the sea! and he loved thy clear shining, sweet star of the sea! . he gazed on thy soul; it was spotless and fair; for the empire of sin it had never been there; none had ever owned thee, dear mother, but he, and he bless'd thy clear shining, sweet star of the sea! and he bless'd thy clear shining, sweet star of the sea! page - ---------- no. the blessed virgin whither thus, in holy rapture? quo sanctus ardor te rapit the visitation translated by the rev. e. caswall from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. joyously . wither thus in holy rapture, royal maiden, art thou bent? why so fleetly art thou speeding up the mountain's rough ascent? filled with th'eternal godhead! glowing with the spirit's flame! love it is that bears the onward, and supports thy tender frame. . lo thine aged cousin claims thee, claims thy sympathy and care; god her shame from her hath taken, he hath heard her fervent pray'r. blessed mothers! joyful meeting! thou in her, the hand of god, she in thee, with lips inspired, owns the mother of her lord. . as the sun, his face concealing, in a cloud withdraws from sight, so in mary then lay hidden he who is the world's true light. honor, glory, virtue, merit, be to thee, o virgin's son! with the father, and the spirit, while eternal ages run. page - ---------- no. the blessed virgin hail virgin, dearest mary queen of may s. m. venn moderato . hail virgin, dearest mary! our lovely queen of may! a spotless, blessed lady, our lovely queen of may. thy children, humbly bending, surround thy shrine so dear; with heart and voice ascending, sweet mary, hear our pray'r. . behold earth's blossoms springing in beauteous form and hue. all nature gladly bring her sweetest charms to you. we'll gather fresh, bright flowers, to bind our fair queen's brow; from gay and verdant bowers, we haste to crown thee now. . hail virgin, dearest mary! our lovely queen of may, o spotless blessed lady, our lovely queen of may. and now, our blessed mother, smile on our festal day; accept our wreath of flowers, and be our queen of may. by permission copyright by s. m. yenn page ---------- no. the blessed virgin this is the image of the queen month of mary crowning hymn tr. rev. e. caswall from a slovak hymnal arr. by n.a.m joyously: moderato . this is the image of the queen who reigns in bliss above; of her who is the hope of men, whom men and angels love! most holy mary! at thy feet i bend a suppliant knee; in this thy own sweet month of may, dear mother of my god, i pray, do thou remember me. . this homage offered at the feet of mary's image here to mary's self at once ascends above the starry sphere. most holy mary! at thy feet i bend a suppliant knee; in all my joy, in all my pain, o virgin born without a stain, do thou remember me. . how fair soever be the form which here your eyes behold, its beauty is by mary's self excell'd a thousand-fold. most holy mary! at thy feet i bend a suppliant knee; in my temptations each and all from eve derived in adam's fall, do thou remember me. . sweet are the flowerets we have called this image to adorn; but sweeter far is mary's self, that rose without a thorn! most holy mary! at thy feet i bend a suppliant knee; when on the bed of death i lie, by him who did for sinners die, do thou remember me. page - ---------- no. the blessed virgin hail! holy queen, enthroned above salve regina mater misericordiae traditional melody salve regina coelitum andante moderato . hail, holy queen, enthron'd above o maria! hail, mother of mercy and of love! o maria! refrain triumph, all ye cherubim, sing with us, ye seraphim, heav'n and earth resound the hymn: salve, salve, salve regina. . our life, our sweetness here below, o maria! our hope in sorrow and in woe, o maria! . to thee we cry, poor sons of eve, o maria! to thee we sigh, we mourn, we grieve. o maria! . this earth is but a veil of tears, o maria! a place of banishment, of fears, o maria! . turn then, most gracious advocate, o maria! t'wards us thine eyes compassionate, o maria! . when this our exile is complete, o maria! show us thy son, our jesus sweet, o maria! . o clement, gracious, mother sweet, o maria! o virgin mary, we entreat, o maria! page - ---------- no. the blessed virgin hail, queen of heaven ave, regina coelorum rev. dr. lingard traditional melody moderato . hail, queen of heav'n, the ocean star, guide of the wanderer here below, thrown on life's surge, we claim thy care, save us from peril and from woe. mother of christ, star of the sea, pray for the wanderer, pray for me. . o gentle, chaste, and spotless maid, we sinners make our pray'rs thro' thee; remind the son that he has paid the price of our iniquity. virgin, most pure, star of the sea, pray for the sinner, pray for me. . sojourners in this vale of tears, to thee, blest advocate, we cry, pity our sorrows, calm our fears, and soothe with hope our misery. refuge in grief, star of the sea, pray for the mourner, pray for me. . and while to him who reigns above, in god-head one, in persons three, the source of life, of grace, of love, homage we pay on bended knee do thou, bright queen, star of the sea, pray for the children, pray for me. page ---------- no. the blessed virgin remember, holy mary memorare st. bernard tr. rev. m. russell, s.j. from a slovak hymnal adapted by n.a.m. moderato . remember, holy mary, 'twas never heard or known that any one who sought thee and made to thee his moan, that any one who hastened for shelter to thy care, was ever yet abandoned and left to his despair. . and so to thee, my mother, with filial faith i call, for jesus dying gave thee as mother to us all. to thee, o queen of virgins, o mother meek, to thee i run with trustful fondness, like child to mother's knee. . see at thy feet a sinner, groaning and weeping sore ah! throw thy mantle o'er me, and let me stray no more. thy son has died to save me, and from his throne on high his heart this moment yearneth for even such as i. . all, all his love remember, and oh! remember too how prompt i am to purpose, how slow and frail to do. yet scorn not my petitions, but patiently give ear, and help me, o my mother, most loving and most dear. page - ---------- no. the blessed virgin hail, full of grace and purity the rosary the joyful mysteries father conway, o. p. isabella montani moderato . the annunciation: humility. hail full of grace and purity! meek handmaid of the lord, hail model of humility! chaste mother of the word. . the visitation: charity to our neighbors. by that pure love which prompted thee to seek thy cousin blest, pray that the fires of charity may burn within our breast. . the birth of christ: poverty. this blessing beg, o virgin queen, from jesus through his birth, by holy poverty to wean our hearts from things of earth. . presentation in the temple: obedience. most holy virgin maiden mild, obtain for us, we pray, to imitate thy holy child, by striving to obey. . the finding of our lord: love him and his service. by thy dear son, restored to thee, this grace for us implore, to serve our lord most faithfully, and love him more and more. . concluding verse. queen of the holy rosary, with tender love look down, and bless the hearts that offer thee this chaplet for thy crown. page - ---------- no. the blessed virgin hear thy children, gentlest mother children's hymn to our lady father stanfield m. haydn arr. by n. a. m. moderato . hear thy children, gentlest mother, pray'rful hearts to thee arise; hear us while our evening ave soars beyond the starry skies. darkling shadows fall around us, stars their silent watches keep; hush the heart oppress'd with sorrow, dry the tears of those who weep. . hear, sweet mother, hear the weary, borne upon life's troubled sea; gentle guiding star of ocean, lead thy children home to thee. still watch o'er us, dearest mother, from thy beauteous throne above; guard us from all harm and danger, 'neath thy shelt'ring wings of love. page ---------- no. the blessed virgin o most holy one o sanctissima translated by rev. j. m. raker sicilian melody arr. by n. a. m. slowly, with devotion . o most holy one, o most lowly one, dearest virgin maria! mother of fair love, home of the spirit dove ora, ora pro nobis. . help us in sadness drear, port of gladness near, virgin mother maria! in pity heading, hear our pleading, ora, ora pro nobis. . call we fearfully, sadly, tearfully, save us now, o maria! let us not languish, heal thou our anguish, ora, ora pro nobis. . mother, maiden fair, look with loving care, hear our pray'r, o maria! our sorrow feeling, send us thy healing, ora, ora pro nobis. page ---------- no. the blessed virgin mother of christ nicola a. montani not too slow (alla breve) . mother of christ, mother of christ, what shall i ask of thee? i do not sigh for the wealth of earth, for joys that fade and flee; but, mother of christ, mother of christ, this do i long to see, the bliss untold which thine arms enfold, the treasure upon thy knee. . mother of christ, mother of christ, what shall i do for thee? i love thy son with my whole strength my only king shall he be. yes, mother of christ, mother of christ, this i do ask of thee, of all that are dear or cherished here, none shall be dear as he. . mother of christ, mother of christ, i toss on a stormy sea, o lift thy child as beacon high to the port where i fain would be, then, mother of christ, mother of christ, this do i ask of thee, when the voyage is o'er, o stand on the shore and show him at last to me. page ---------- no. the blessed virgin raise your voices, vales and mountains causa nostra laetitiae st. alphonsus liguori translated by rev. e. vaughan william schultes ( - ) arr. by n. a. m. joyfully (alla breve) . raise your voices, vales and mountains, flow'ry meadows, streams and fountains, praise, o praise the loveliest maiden the creator ever made. . murm'ring brooks your tribute bringing, little birds with joyful singing, come with mirthful praises laden to your queen be homage paid. . like a sun with splendor glowing gleams thy heart with love o'erflowing, like the moon in starry heaven shines thy peerless purity. . like the rose and lily blooming, sweetly heav'n and earth perfuming stainless, spotless thou appearest: queenly beauty graces thee. page ---------- no. the blessed virgin o mother! most afflicted our mother of sorrows anonymous traditional melody ( ) lento . o mother! most afflicted, standing beneath that tree, where jesus hangs rejected on the hill of calvary! refrain o mary! sweetest mother, we love to pity thee; o! for the sake of jesus let us thy children be. . thy heart is well-nigh breaking, thy jesus thus to see, derided, wounded, dying, in greatest agony. . his livid form is bleeding, his soul with sorrow wrung, whilst thou, afflicted mother, shar'st the torments of thy son. . o mary! queen of martyrs, the sword had pierced thy heart, obtain for us of jesus in thy grief to bear apart. . o dear and loving mother! entreat that we may be near thee and thy dear jesus now and eternally page - ---------- no. saints, st. joseph o blessed saint joseph the patronage of st. joseph father faber melody from the trier gesangbuch ( ) moderato . o blessed saint joseph, how great was thy worth, the one chosen shadow of god upon earth, the father of jesus! ah then, wilt thou be, sweet spouse of our lady! a father to me? . for thou to the pilgrim art father and guide, and jesus and mary felt safe by thy side; ah, blessed saint joseph, how safe i should be, sweet spouse of our lady! if thou wert with me! . when the treasures of god where unsheltered on earth, safe keeping was found them both in thy worth; o father of jesus, be father to me, sweet spouse of our lady! and i will love thee. page ---------- no. saints, st. joseph great saint joseph! son of david du aus david's translated by bishop casartelli from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. con spirito . great saint joseph! son of david, foster father of our lord, spouse of mary ever virgin, keeping o'er them watch and ward! in the stable thou didst guard them with a father's loving care; thou by god's command didst save them from the cruel herod's snare. . three long days in grief and anguish with his mother sweet and mild, mary virgin, didst thou wander seeking the beloved child. in the temple thou didst find him: oh! what joy then filled thy heart! in thy sorrows, in thy gladness grant us, joseph, to have a part. . clasped in jesus' arms and mary's, when death gently came at last, thy pure spirit sweetly sighing from its earthly dwelling passed. dear saint joseph! by that passing may our death be like to thine; and with jesus, mary, joseph, may our souls forever shine. page - ---------- no. saints, st. joseph joseph, pure spouse of that immortal bride te joseph celebrent translated by father caswall m. mattoni devoto (alla breve) . joseph, pure spouse of that immortal bride; who shines in ever-virgin glory bright, thro' all the christian climes the praise be sung, thro' all the realms of light. . thine arms embraced thy maker newly born: with him to egypt's desert didst thou flee: him in jerusalem didst seek and find; o grief, o joy for thee. . not until after death their blissful crown other obtain, but unto thee was giv'n, in thine own lifetime to enjoy thy god as do the blest in heav'n. . grant us great trinity, for joseph's sake unto the starry mansions to attain; there, with glad tongues, thy praise to celebrate in one eternal strain. page ---------- no. saints, st. joseph hail! holy joseph, hail! father faber from the catholic songbook (st. gall ) con spirito . hail, holy joseph, hail! chaste spouse of mary hail! pure as the lily flow'r in eden's peaceful vale. hail, holy joseph, hail! prince of the house of god! may his best graces be by thy sweet hands bestowed. . hail, holy joseph, hail! comrade of angels, hail! cheer thou the hearts that faint, and guide the steps that fail. hail, holy joseph, hail! god's choice wert thou alone! to thee the word made flesh, was subject as a son. . hail, holy joseph, hail! teach us our flesh to tame, and, mary, keep the hearts that love thy husband's name. mother of jesus! bless, and bless, ye saints on high, all meek and simple souls that to saint joseph cry. page ---------- no. saints, st. patrick hail, glorious saint patrick (no. ) sister agnes from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. maestoso . hail, glorious saint patrick! dear saint of our isle, on us thy poor children bestow a sweet smile; and now thou art high in the mansions above, on erin's green valleys look down in love. . hail, glorious saint patrick! thy words were once strong against satan's wiles and a heretic throng; not less is thy might where in heaven thou art; oh, come to our aid, in our battle take part! . in the war against sin, in the fight for faith, dear saint, may thy children resist to the death; may their strength be in meekness, in penance, and pray'r, their banner the cross, which they glory to bear. . thy people, now exiles on many a shore, shall love and revere thee till time be no more; and the fire thou hast kindled shall ever burn bright, its warmth undiminished, undying its light. . ever bless and defend the sweet land of our birth, where the shamrock still blooms as when thou wert on earth, and our hearts shall yet burn, wheresoever we roam, for god and saint patrick and our native home. page - ---------- no. saints, st. patrick hail, glorious saint patrick (no. ) sister agnes ancient irish melody arr. by n. a. m. maestoso . hail, glorious saint patrick! dear saint of our isle, on us thy poor children bestow a sweet smile; and now thou art high in the mansions above, on erin's green valleys look down in love. . hail, glorious saint patrick! thy words were once strong against satan's wiles and a heretic throng; not less is thy might where in heaven thou art; oh, come to our aid, in our battle take part! . in the war against sin, in the fight for faith, dear saint, may thy children resist to the death; may their strength be in meekness, in penance, and pray'r, their banner the cross, which they glory to bear. . thy people, now exiles on many a shore, shall love and revere thee till time be no more; and the fire thou hast kindled shall ever burn bright, its warmth undiminished, undying its light. . ever bless and defend the sweet land of our birth, where the shamrock still blooms as when thou wert on earth, and our hearts shall yet burn, wheresoever we roam, for god and saint patrick and our native home. page - ---------- no. saints, st. peter seek ye a patron to defend? si vis patronum quaerere translated by father caswall nicola a. montani . seek ye a patron to defend your cause? then, one and all, without delay upon the prince of the apostles call. refrain blest holder of the heav'nly keys! thy pray'rs we all implore; unlock to us the sacred bars of heav'n's eternal door. . by penitential tears thou didst the path of life regain: teach us with thee to weep our sins and wash away their stain. . the angel touch'd thee and forthwith thy chains from off thee fell oh loose us from the subtle coils that link us close with hell. . firm rock wheron the church is based pillar that cannot bend with strength endue us; and the faith from heresy defend. page - ---------- no. saints, st. paul lead us, great teacher paul translated from the latin from a slovak hymnal slowly . lead us, great teacher paul, in wisdom's ways, and lift our hearts with thine to heav'n's high throne, till faith beholds the clear meridian blaze, and in the soul reigns charity alone. . praise, blessing, majesty, thro' endless days, be to the trinity immortal giv'n, who in pure unity profoundly sways, eternally all things in earth and heav'n. page ---------- no. saints, st. anthony of padua if great wonders thou desirest (si quaeris) translated by father aylward, o. p. melody from a slovak hymnal andante moderato . if great wonders thou desirest, hopeful to saint anthony pray; error, satan, wants the direst, death and pest his will obey, and the sick, who beg his pity, from their couches haste away. . young and old are ever singing, praises to saint anthony bringing; stormy ocean calms its passion, bonds and fetters break in twain, treasures lost and limbs disabled, these his pow'r restores again. . padua has been the witness of these deeds six hundred years; dangers flee and need must perish, grief and sorrow disappear, filling all the world with wonder, while the demons quake with fear. . glory be to god the father and to his coequal son, to the holy ghost resplendent; one in three--three in one; praise we father, son and spirit while eternal ages run. page - ---------- no. saints, st. john baptist de la salle glorious patron sr. mercedes j. lewis browne . glorious patron! low before thee kneel thy sons, with hearts aflame! and out voices blend in music, singing praises to thy name. saint john baptist! glorious patron! saint la salle we sound thy fame. . loyal to our queen and mother, at her feet didst vow thy heart, earth, and all its joys, forsaking, thou didst choose the better part. saint la salle, our glorious father, pierce our souls with love's one dart. . model of the christian teacher! patron of the christian youth! lead us all to heights of glory, as we strive in earnest ruth. saint la salle! oh, guard and guide use, as we spread afar the truth! . in this life of sin and sorrow, saint la salle, oh, guide our way, in the hour of dark temptation, father! be our spirit's stay! take our hand and lead us homeward, saint la salle, to heav'ns bright day! copyright mcmxiii by the gilbert music co. by permission page - ---------- no. saints, st, francis of assisi blessed francis, holy father patron of franciscan tertiaries from the fransciscan manual from a slovak hymnal arr by n. a. m. con anima . blessed francis, holy father, now our hearts to thee we raise, as we gather 'round thine altar, pouring forth our hymns of praise. bless thy children, holy francis, who thy mighty help implore, for in heaven thou remainest, still the father of the poor. . by thy love so deep and burning, for thy saviour crucified; by the tokens which he gave thee on thy hands and feet and side: bless thy children, holy francis, with those wounded hands of thine, from thy glorious throne in heaven where resplendently they shine. . humble follower of jesus. likened to him in thy birth, in thy way thro' life despising, for his sake the goods of earth: make us love the priceless virtue by our hidden god esteemed, make it valued, holy francis, by the souls of the redeemed. . teach us also, dear saint francis, how to mourn for ev'ry sin; may we walk in thy dear footsteps till the crown of life we win. bless thy children, holy francis, with those wounded hands of thine, from thy glorious throne in heaven, where resplendently they shine. page - ---------- no. saints, st. john the evangelist saint of the sacred heart father faber nicola a. montani andante . saint of the sacred heart, sweet teacher of the word; partner of mary's woes and fav'rite of thy lord! thou to whom grace was giv'n to stand where peter fell, whose heart could brook the cross of him it loved so well! . we know not all thy gifts; but this christ bids us see, that he who so loved all found more to love in thee. when the last evening came, thy head was on his breast, pillowed on earth where now in heav'n the saints find rest. . dear saint i stand far off with vilest sins oppressed; oh may i dare, like thee, to lean upon his brest? his touch could heal the sick, his voice could raise the dead! oh that my soul might be where he allows thy head. . the gifts he gave to thee he gave thee to impart; and i, too, claim with thee his mother and his heart. ah teach me, then, dear saint! the secrets christ taught thee, the beatings of his heart, and how it beat for me. page - ---------- no. saints, st. jeanne d' arc the maid of france, with visioned eyes rt. rev. msgr. h. t. henry (written expressly for the st. gregory hymnal, all rights reserved) ancient french melody a traditional catholic melody (provencal noel) known as "marche dei rei" words of which are attributed to king rene. the noel, over two centuries old, was utilized by bizet in his incidental music to "l' arlessierne." arr. by n. a. m. . the maid of france, with visioned eyes, saw messengers from paradise and voices bore a hidden word that only by her ear was heard. refrain o blessed maid, the chant we raise that tells the meaning of thy praise: thou teachest us the lesson grand of love for god and fatherland. . the visions and the voices spoke a wondrous message: "break the yoke that burdens france, and crown your king, sweet herald of his triumphing!" . the maid believed the great command, and fought for god and native land: a model she shall ever lamp to guide her feet in court or camp. . o who shall dare her glory paint? she lived a hero, dies a saint: a model she shall ever stand of love for god and fatherland. page - ---------- no. saints, st. cecilia let the deep organ swell the lay rev. c. pise nicola. a. montani marcato . let the deep organ swell the lay, in honor of this festive day; let the harmonious choirs proclaim cecilia's ever blessed name. rome gave the virgin martyr birth, whose holy name hath filled the earth; and from the early dawn of youth, she fixed her heart on god and truth. . then from the world's bewild'ring strife, in peace she spent her holy life, teaching the organ to combine with voice, to praise the lamb divine, cecilia, with a two-fold crown adorned in heav'n, we pray look down upon thy fervent votaries here and harken to their humble pray'r. page - ---------- no. saints, st. agnes sweet agnes, holy child anonymous melody from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. andante religioso . sweet agnes, holy child, all purity, oh, may we undefiled, be pure as thee: ready our blood to shed forth as the martyrs led. the path of pain to tread, and die like thee. . o gentle patroness of holy youth, ask god all those to bless who love the truth: oh, guide us on our way unto th'eternal day, with hearts all pure and gay, dear saint, like thine. . look down and hear our pray'r from realms above, show us thy tender care, thy guiding love: oh, keep us in thy sight, till in th'unclouded light of heav'n's pure vision bright we dwell with thee. page ---------- no. saints, st. ursula afar upon a foreign shore ancient breton melody arr. by n. a. m andante religioso . afar upon a foreign shore a martyr's crown thy love did win, thy life, thy death to jesus giv'n, with him to reign forevermore refrain hail blessed saint, hail ursula! obtain for us, we pray, that love may make us martyrs too, and in our hearts hold sway. . o happy saint! upon whose way god's special love a glory cast, thy sorrows o'er thy tempest past, thou sharest his eternal day. . to god the father with the son, and holy spirit, three in one, be glory while the ages flow, from all above and all below. page - ---------- no. saints, st. vincent de paul o blessed father sent by god father faber nicola a. montani moderato . o blessed father! sent by god his mercy to dispense, thy hand is out o'er all the earth, like god's own providence. there is no grief nor care of men, thou dost not own for thine, no broken heart thou dost not fill with mercy's oil and wine. . thy miracles are works of love, thy greatest is to make room in a day for toils that weeks in other men would take. all cries of suff'ring thro' the earth upon thy mercy call, as tho' thou wert, like god himself, a father unto all. . dear saint not in the wilderness thy fragrant virtues bloom, but in the city's crowded haunts, the alley's cheerless gloom. when hunger hid itself to die, where guilt in darkness dwelt, thy pleasant sunshine can by stealth thy hand and heart were felt. . for charity anointed thee o'er want and woe and pain; and she hath crowned thee emperor of all her wide domain. vincent! like mother mary, thou art no one's patron saint; eyes to the blind, health to the sick, and life to those who faint. page - ---------- no. saints, feasts of virgins dear crown of all the virgin-choir jesu, corona virginum for unison, or two-part chorus of equal voices translated by father caswall p. piel moderato . dear crown of all the virgin-choir that holy mother's virgin son! who is, alone of womankind, mother and virgin both in one. . encircles by thy virgin band, amid the lilies thou art found; for thy pure brides with lavish hand scatt'ring immortal graces round. . and still whatever thou dost bend thy lovely steps, o glorious king, virgins upon thy steps attend, and hymns to thy glory sing. . keep us, o purity divine, from ev'ry least corruption free; our ev'ry sense from sin refine, and purify our souls for thee. . to god the father, and the son, all honor, glory, praise be giv'n; with thee, coequal paraclete! forevermore in earth and heav'n. page ---------- no. saints, feasts of apostles now let the earth with joy resound exsultet orbis gaudiis translated by father caswall lachmannov spevnicek arr. by n. a. m. joyously and with animation (alla breve) . now let the earth with joy resound; and heav'n the chant re-echo round; nor heav'n nor earth too high can raise the great apostles' glorious praise. . o ye who, throned in glory dread, shall judge the living and the dead! lights of the world forevermore! to you the suppliant pray'r we pour. . so when the world is at its end, and christ to judgement shall descend, may we be called these joys to see prepared from all eternity. . praise to the father, with the son, and holy spirit, three in one; as ever was in ages past, and so shall be while ages last. page ---------- no. angels hark! hark! my soul the pilgrims of the night father faber nicola a. montani moderato (alla breve) . hark! hark! my soul! angelic songs are swelling o'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave-beat shore; how sweet the truth those blessed strains are telling of that new life where sin shall be no more! refrain angels of jesus! angels of light! singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night. . darker than night life's shadows fall around us, and, like benighted men, we miss our mark; god hides himself, and grace hath scarcely found us, ere death finds out his victims in the dark. . far, far away, like bells at evening pealing, the voice of jesus sounds o'er land and sea; and laden souls, by thousands meekly stealing, kind shepherd! turn their weary steps to thee. . angels! sing on, your faithful watches keeping, sing us sweet fragments of the songs above; while we toil on, and soothe ourselves with weeping, till life's long night shall break in endless love. page - ---------- no. angels dear angel! ever at my side the guardian angel father faber nicola a. montani semplice . dear angel! ever at my side, how loving must thou be, to leave thy home in heav'n to guide a sinful child like me. . thy beautiful and shining face, i see not, tho' so near; the sweetness of thy soft low voice too deaf am i to hear. . but when, dear spirit, i kneel down, both morn and nigh to pray'r, something there is within my heart, which tells me thou art there. . oh! when i pray thou prayest too, thy pray'r is all for me; but when i sleep, thou sleepest not, but watchest patiently. . then, for thy sake, dear angel! now more humble will i be: but i am weak, and when i fall, o weary not of me. . then love me, love me, angel dear! and i will love thee more; and help me when my soul is cast upon th'eternal shore. page ---------- no. the holy souls help, lord, the souls which thou hast made the faithful departed cardinal newman from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. andante . help, lord, the souls which thou hast made, the souls to thee so dear, in prison for the debt unpaid, of sins committed here. . these holy souls, they suffer on resigned in heart and will, until the high behest is done, and justice has its fill. . for daily falls, for pardoned crime they joy to undergo the shadow of thy cross sublime, the remnant of thy woe. . oh, by their patience of delay, their hope amid their pain, their sacred zeal to burn away disfigurement and stain. . oh, by their fire of love, not less in keenness than in flame, oh, by their very helplessness, oh, by thy own great name. . good jesus, help! sweet jesus, aid the souls to thee most dear, in prison for the debt unpaid of sins committed here. page ---------- no. the holy souls ye souls of the faithful o vos fideles animae tr. by father caswall from an italian hymn book arr. by n. a. m. moderato . ye souls of the faithful, who sleep in the lord, who yet are shut out from your final reward: o! would i could lend you assistance to fly from prison below to your palace on high. . o father of mercies, thine anger withhold; these works of thy hand in thy mercy behold: too oft from thy path they have wandered aside, but thee, their creator, they never denied. . o tender redeemer, their misery see: deliver the souls that were ransomed by thee: behold how they love thee, despite of their pain: restore them, restore them to favor again. . o spirit of grace, thou consoler divine, see how for thy presence they longingly pine, to lift, to enliven their sadness, descend; and fill them with peace and with joy in the end. page ---------- no. the holy souls o turn to jesus, mother, turn father faber from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. lento . o turn to jesus, mother! turn, and call him by his tenderest names; pray for holy souls that burn this hour amid the cleansing flames. . ah! they have fought a gallant fight; in death's cold arms they persevered; and after life's uncherry night, the arbour of their rest is neared. . they are the children of thy tears; then hasten, mother, to their aid; in pity think each hour appears an age while glory is delayed. . o mary, let thy son no more his lingering spouses thus expect: god's children to their god restore, and to the spirit his elect. . pray, then, as thou hast ever prayed; angels and souls, all look to thee; god waits thy pray'rs, for he hath made those pray'rs his law of charity. page ---------- no. the holy souls unto him, for whom this day recessional rt. rev. msgr. h. t. henry, litt. d. nicola a. montani andante religioso (non troppo lento) . unto him, for whom, this day; juste judex ultionis we in love and pity pray; donum fac remissionis refrain pie jesu domine, dona ei requiem. . when at judgement he shall stand, rex tremendae majestatis, grant him what thy love hath planned, qui salvandos salvas gratis. . he hath fought the gallant fight inter oves locum praesta, lead him on to heaven's light statuens in parte dextra. page ---------- no. the holy souls out of the depths de profundis s. webbe with devotion . out of the depths to thee, o lord, i cry, lord! gracious turn thine ear to suppliant sigh; if sins of men thou scann'st, who may stand that searching eye of thine, and chast'ning hand? . oh, bear our pray'rs and sighs, redeemer blest, and grant thy holy souls eternal rest and let perpetual light upon them shine; for tho' not spotless, still these souls are thine. . to be appeased in wrath, dear lord, is thine; thou mercy with thy justice canst combine; thy blood our countless stains can wash away: this is thy, law our hope and steadfast stay. . this god himself shall come from heav'n above, the christ! the god of mercy and of love! he comes, he comes! the god incarnate he! and by his glorious death makes all men free! page ---------- no. heaven jerusalem the golden urbs sion aurea bernard of cluny j. grabowski translated by j. m. neale arr. by n. a. m. con moto . jerusalem the golden, with milk and honey blest, beneath thy contemplation sink heart and voice opprest; i know not--oh, i know not what joys await us there; what radiancy of glory, what bliss beyond compare. . they stand, those halls of sion, all jubilant with song, and bright with many an angel, and all the martyr throng; the prince is ever in them, his light is always seen; the pastures of the blessed are decked in glorious sheen. . there is the throne of david, and bliss without alloy; the shout of them that triumph, the song of festal joy; and they, who with their leader have conquered in the fight, for ever and for ever are clad in robes of white. . o sweet and blessed country, the home of god's elect! o sweet and blessed country that eager hearts expect! jesu, in mercy bring us to that dear land of rest; who art, with god the father, and spirit, ever blest. page - ---------- no. heaven jerusalem, my happy home l. anderson, s. j. from an italian hymnal modrato (alla breve) . jerusalem, my happy home, when shall i come to thee? when shall my sorrows have and end? thy joys when shall i see? . o happy harbor of the saints, o sweet and pleasant soil: in thee no sorrow may be found. no grief, no care, no toil. . there lust and lucre cannot dwell, there envy bears not sway, there is no hunger, heat or cold but pleasure ev'ry way. . jerusalem, jerusalem, god grant i once may see thy endless joys, and of the same, partaker, aye to be. page ---------- no. heaven o paradise! o paradise! father faber from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. moderato . o paradise! o paradise! who doth not crave for rest? who would not seek the happy land, where they that loved are blest: refrain where loyal hearts and true, stand ever in the light, all rapture thro' and thro' in god's most holy sight? . o paradise! o paradise! the world is growing old; who would not be at rest and free where love is never cold; . o paradise! o paradise! 'tis weary waiting here; i long to be where jesus is, to feel, to see him near; . o paradise! o paradise! i want to sin no more; i want to be as pure on earth as on thy spotless shore; . o paradise! o paradise! i greatly long to see the special place my dearest lord in love prepares for me; page - ---------- no. the church faith of our fathers fideles ad mortem father faber nicola. a. montani maestoso, ben marcato . faith of our fathers: living still in spite of dungeon, fire and sword; oh, how our hearts beat high with joy whene'er we hear that glorious word. refrain faith of our fathers! holy faith! we will be true to thee till death. . our fathers, chained in prisons dark, were still in heart and conscience free: how sweet would be their children's fate, if they, like them, could die for thee! . faith of our fathers! we will love both friend and foe in all our strife: and preach thee too, as love knows how by kindly words and virtuous life: page - ---------- no. the church long live the pope hymn for the pope rt. rev. msgr. hugh t. henry, litt. d. h. g. ganss maestoso . long live the pope! his praises sound again and yet again: his rule is over space and time; his throne the hearts of men: all hail! the shepherd king of rome, the theme of loving song: let all the earth his glory sing, and heav'n the strain prolong. let all the earth his glory sing, and heav'n the strain prolong. . beleaguered by the foes of earth, beset by hosts of hell, he guards the loyal flock of christ, a watchful sentinel: and yet, amid the din and strife, the clash of mace and sword, he bears alone the shepherds staff, this champion of the lord, he bears alone the shepherds staff, this champion of the lord. . his signet is the fisherman's; no sceptre does he bear; in meek and lowly majesty he rules from peter's chair: and yet from ev'ry tribe and tongue, from clime and zone, three hundred million voices sing, the glory of his throne, three hundred million voices sing, the glory of his throne, . then raise the chant, with heart and voice, in church and school and home: "long live the shepherd of the flock! long live the pope of rome!" almighty father, bless his work, protect him in his ways, receive his pray'rs, fulfil his hopes and grant him "length of days," receive his pray'rs, fulfil his hopes and grant him "length of days." page - ---------- no. the church blest is the faith father faber nicola a. montani maestoso . blest is the faith, divine and strong of thanks and praise and endless fountain, whose life is one perpetual song, high up the saviour's holy mountain. refrain oh, sion's songs are sweet to sing, with melodies of gladness laden; hark! how the harps of angels ring, hail! son of man! hail mother maiden . blest is the hope that holds to god, in doubt and darkness still unshaken, and sings along the heav'nly road, sweetest when most it seem forsaken. . blest is the love that cannot love aught that earth gives of best and brightest; whose raptures thrill like saints' above, most when its earthly gifts are lightest. page - ---------- no. for children hear thy children, gentle jesus father stanfield m. haydn arr. by n. a. m. animato . hear thy children, gentle jesus, while we breath our daily prayer, save us from all harm and danger, take us 'neath thy shelt'ring care. save us from the wiles of satan, 'mid the lone and sleepful night, sweetly may bright guardian angels keep us 'neath their watchful sight. . gentle jesus, look in pity, from thy great white throne above; all the night thy heart is wakeful, in thy sacrament of love. shades of even fast are falling, day is fading into gloom, when the shades of death fall 'round us, lead thine exiled children home. page - ---------- no. for children little king, so fair and sweet school hymn s.n.d. from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. unison . little king, so fair and sweet, see us gathered at thy feet: be thou monarch of our school, it shall prosper 'neath thy rule. we will be thy subjects true, brave to suffer, brave to do; all our hearts to thee we bring, take them, keep them, little king. . raise thy little hand to bless all our childhood's happiness; bless our sorrow and our pain, that each cross may be our gain. be thine own sweet childhood, lord, sanctify each though and word, set thy seal on ev'ry thing which we do, o little king. . be our teacher when we learn, all the hard to easy turn; be our playmate when we play, so we shall indeed be gay. keep us happy, keep us pure, while our childhood shall endure, all its days to thee we bring, bless them guard them, little king. . and when holidays have come, call thy children to thy home, in that gentle voice of thine, which we know, sweet child divine. at the gate, oh, meet us thus, as we loved thee--child like us; stretch thine hands in welcoming to thine own, o little king. page - ---------- no. for children the infant jesus when blossoms flowered 'mid the snows a christmas carol for unison chorus (gesu bambino) frederick h. martens pietro a. yon copyright by j. fischer & bro. by permission of j. fischer & bro. owners of copyright british copyright secured andante mosso . when blossoms flowered 'mid the snows upon a winter night, was born the child, the christmas rose, the king of love and light. the angels sang, the shepherds sang the grateful earth rejoiced; and at his blessed birth the stars their exultation voiced. refrain o come let us adore him, o come let us adore him, o come let us adore him, christ the lord. . again the heart with rapture glows to greet the holy night, that gave the world its christmas rose, its king of love and light. let ev'ry voice acclaim his name, the grateful chorus swell. from paradise to earth he came that we with him might dwell. page - ---------- no. for children the infant jesus dear little one! how sweet thou art christmas for additional children's hymn see no. father faber nicola a. montani andante . dear little one! how sweet thou art, thine eyes, how bright they shine; so bright, they almost seem to speak when mary's look meets thine! . how faint and feeble is thy cry, like plaint of harmless dove, when thou dost murmur in thy sleep of sorrow and of love. . when mary bids thee sleep thou sleep'st, thou wakest when she calls; thou art content upon her lap, or in the rugged stalls. . saint joseph takes thee in his arms, and smoothes thy little cheek, thou lookest up in to his face so helpless and so meek. . yes! thou art what thou seem'st to be, a thing of smiles ands tears; yet thou art god, and heav'n and earth adore thee with their fears. page ---------- no. holy communion acts of faith, hope and contrition great god, whatever through thy church from a slovak hymnal maestoso . faith great god, whatever thro' thy church thou teachest to be true, i firmly do believe it all, and will confess it, too. thou never canst deceived be, thou never canst deceive, for thou art truth itself, and thou dost tell me to believe. . hope my god, i firmly hope in thee, for thou art great and good; thou gavest us thine only son to die upon the rood. i hope thro' him for grace to live as thy commandments teach, and thro' thy mercy, when i die the joys of heav'n to reach. . love with all my heart and soul and strength, i love thee, o my lord, for thou art perfect, and all things were made by thy blest word. like me to thine own image made, my neighbor thou didst make, and as i love myself, i love my neighbor for thy sake. . contrition most holy god, my very soul with grief sincere is mov'd, because i have offended thee, whom i should e'er have lov'd. forgive me, father; i am now resolved to sin no more, and by thy holy grace to shun what made me sin before. page - ---------- no. holy communion o lord, i am not worthy nicola a. montani lento con espressione . o lord, i am not worthy that thou shoud'st come to me; but speak the words of comfort, my spirit healed shall be. . and humbly i'll receive thee, the bridegroom of my soul, no more by sin to grieve thee, or fly thy sweet control. . o mighty eternal spirit unworthy tho' i be prepare me to receive him and trust the word to me. page ---------- no. holy communion jesus, thou art coming acts before communion from a slovak hymnal moderato . jesus thou art coming, holy as thou art thou the god who made me, to my sinful heart. jesus, i believe it on thy only word; kneeling i adore thee as my king and lord. . who am i, my jesus, that thou com'st to me? i have sinned against thee, often, grievously; i am very sorry i have caused thee pain; i will never, never, wound thy heart again. . trust put thy kind arms round me, feeble as i am; thou art my good shepherd, i, thy little lamb; since thou comest, jesus, now to be my guest, i can trust thee always, lord, for all the rest. . love and desire dearest lord, i love thee, with my whole, whole heart, not for what thou givest, but for what thou art. come, oh, come, sweet saviour! come to me, and stay, for i want thee, jesus, more than i can say. . offering and petition ah! what gift or present, jesus, can i bring? i have nothing worthy of my god and king; but thou art my shepherd, i, thy little lamb; take myself, dear jesus, all i have and am. . take my body, jesus, eyes, and ears, and tongue; never let them, jesus help to do thee wrong. take my heart, and fill it full of love for thee; all i have i give thee, give thyself to me. page - ---------- no. holy communion jesus, jesus come to me hymn before communion for additional communion hymns see nos. , , , and hymns in honor of the blessed sacrament. see also "acts," nos. , , , , tr. sister jeanne marie traditional melody slowly . jesus, jesus, come to me, all my longing is for thee, of all friends the best thou art, make of me thy counterpart. . jesus, i live for thee, jesus, i die for thee, i belong to thee, for-e're in life and death. page ---------- no. confirmation my god, accept my heart this day m. bridges nicola. a. montani slowly with devotion . my god, accept my heart this day, and make it always thine, that i from thee no more may stray, no more from thee decline. . before the cross of him who dies, behold i prostrate fall; let ev'ry sin be crucified, let christ be all in all. . anoint me with thy heav'nly grace, adopt me for thine own, that i may see thy glorious face and worship at thy throne. . may the dear blood, once shed for me, my best atonement prove; that i from first to last may be the purchase of thy love! . let ev'ry thought, and work, and word, to thee be ever giv'n then life shall be thy service, lord, and death the gate of heav'n! page ---------- no. missions jesus, my lord! behold at length the time act of contrition bishop chadwick traditional melody moderato . jesus, my lord! behold at length the time when i resolve to turn away from crime. oh pardon me, jesus: thy mercy i implore; i will never more offend thee; . since my poor soul thy precious blood has cost suffer it not forever to be lost. oh pardon me, jesus: thy mercy i implore; i will never more offend thee; no, never more. . kneeling in tears, behold me at thy feet like magdalene, forgiveness i entreat. oh pardon me, jesus: thy mercy i implore; i will never more offend thee; page ---------- no. missions god of mercy and compassion rev. e. vaughan nicola a. montani moderato . god of mercy and compassion! look with pity upon me; father! let me call thee father, 'tis thy child returns to thee. refrain jesus, lord, i ask for mercy; let me not implore in vain; all my sins i now detest them, never will i sin again. . by my sins i have abandoned right and claim to heav'n above, where the saints rejoice forever in a boundless sea of love. . see our saviour, bleeding, dying, on the cross of calvary; to the cross my sins have nailed him, yet he bleeds and dies for me. page ---------- no. general jesus, ever-loving saviour hymn for a happy death franz schubert arr. by n. a. m. . jesus, ever loving saviour, thou didst live and die for me, living, i will live to love thee, dying, i will die for thee, jesus! jesus! by thy death and sorrow, help me in my agony. . when the last dread hour approaching fills my guilty soul with fear; all my sins rise up before me, all my virtues disappear. jesus! jesus! turn not thou in anger from me, mary, joseph, then be near. . mary, thou canst not forsake me, virgin mother undefiled; thou didst not abandon jesus dying, tortued and reviled. jesus! jesus! send thy mother to console me: mary, help thy guilty child! . jesus, when the cruel anguish dying on the shameful tree, all abandoned by thy father, thuo didst writhe in agony. jesus! jesus! by these three long hours of sorrow thou didst purchase hope for me. . then, by all that thou didst suffer, grant me mercy in that day; help me, mary, my sweet mother, holy joseph, near me stay. jesus! jesus! let me die, my lips repeating, jesus, mercy! mary, pray! page - ---------- no. general, the holy family happy we who thus united rev. e. vaughan "ave virgo" th century melody arr. by n. a. m. allegro moderato . happy we, who thus united join in cheerful melody; praising jesus, mary, joseph, in the "holy family." jesus, mary, joseph, help us, that we ever true may be, to the promises that bind us to the "holy family." . jesus, whose almighty bidding all created things fulfill, lives on earth in meek subjection to his earthly parents' will. sweetest infant, make us patient and obedient for thy sake, each us to be chaste and gentle, all our stormy passions break. . mary! thou alone were chosen virgin mother of thy lord: thou didst guide the earthly footsteps of the great incarnate word. dearest mother! make us humble; for thy son will take his rest in the poor and lowly dwelling of a humble sinner's breast. . joseph! thou wert called the father of thy maker and thy lord; thine it was to save thy saviour from the cruel herod's sword. suffer us to call thee father; show to us a father's love; lead us safe thro' ev'ry danger till we meet in heav'n above. page - ---------- no. general, the rosary, the glorious mysteries by the first bright easter day for the joyful mysteries see hymn no. c. m. caddell from a slovak hymnal arr. by n. a. m. allegro moderato . the resurrection by the first bright easter day, when the stone was rolled away; by the glory round thee shed at thy rising from the dead. refrain king of glory, hear our cry; make us soon thy joy to see, where enthroned in majesty countless angels sing to thee. . the ascension by thy parting blessing giv'n, as thou didst ascend to heav'n, by the cloud of living light that received thee out of sight. . the descent of the holy ghost by the rushing sound of might coming down from heaven's height; by the cloven tongues of fire, holy ghost, our hearts inspire. . the assumption of our lady see the virgin mother rise, angels bear her to the skies; mount aloft, imperial queen, plead on high the cause of men! . the coronation of our lady mary reigns upon the throne preordained for her alone; saints and angels round her sing, mother of our god and king. page - ---------- no. general, evening hymn sweet saviour! bless us ere we go father faber nicola a. montani andante ma non troppo . sweet saviour! bless us ere we go; thy word into our minds instill; and make our lukewarm hearts to glow with lowly love and fervent will. refrain thro' life's long day and deaths dark night, o gentle jesus! be our light; jesus! be our light. . the day is done; its hours have run; and thou hast taken count of all, the scanty triumphs grace hath won, the broken vow, and frequent fall. . grant us, dear lord! from evil ways true absolution and release; and bless us more than in past days with purity and inward peace. . for all we love, the poor, the sad, the sinful, unto thee we call; oh let thy mercy make us glad; thou art out jesus and our all. page - ---------- no. general, evening hymn as fades the glowing orb of day jam sol recedit igneus translated by t. j. potter s. webbe ( - ) moderato . as fades the glowing orb of day, to thee, great source of light, we pray; blest three in one, to ev'ry heart thy beams of life and love impart. . at early dawn, at close of day, to thee our vows we humbly pay; may we, 'mid joys that never end, with thy bright saints in homage bend. page ---------- no. general, evening hymn when day's shadows lengthen mane nobiscum, quoniam ad vesperascit dr. f. g. lee traditional melody arr. by n. a. m. andante . when day's shadows lengthen, jesus, be thou near: pardon, comfort, strengthen, chase away my fear; love and hope be deepen'd, faith more strong and clear. . when the night grows darkest, and the stars are pale, when the foemen gather in death's misty vale, be thou sword and buckler, be thou shield and mail. . come, thou food of angels, source of ev'ry grace, in thy father's mansions give me soon a place; that unveiled in splendor i may see thy face. . then be near me, jesus, enemies shall flee: hidden god and saviour, thou my comfort be: food, and priest, and victim, let me feed on thee. . so shall no fears chill me on that unknown shore; for in death he conquered, and can die no more. his hand guards and guides me to the heav'nly door. . bless'ed warfare over, endless rest alone; tears no more, nor sorrow, neither sigh nor moan, but a song of triumph round about the throne. page - ---------- no. general, the praise of god praise we our god with joy processional canon oakeley nicola a. montani allegro maestoso (with well-marked rhythm) . praise we our god with joy and gladness never ending; angels and saints with us their grateful voices blending. he is our father dear, o'erfilled with father's love; mercies unsought, unknown he showers from above, . he is our shepherd true, with watchful care unsleeping; on us, his erring sheep, an eye of pity keeping. he with a mighty arm the bonds of sin doth break, and to our burden'd hearths in words of peace doth speak. . bleeding, we lay, but he with soothing bands hath bound us; dark was our path, but he hath poured his light around us; graces in copious streams from that pure fountain come, down to our heart of hearts, where god hath set his home. . his word our lantern is, his peace our consolation; his sweetness all our rest, himself our great salvation! then live we all to god, rely on him in faith, be he our guide in life, our joy, our hope, in death. page - ---------- no. general praise to the holiest in the height dream of gerontius processional cardinal newman nicola a. montani with spirit . praise the holiest in the height, and in the depth be praise; in all his words most wonderful, most sure in all his ways! . o loving wisdom of our god! when all was sin and shame, a second adam to the fight and to the rescue came. . o wisest love! that flesh and blood which did in adam fail, should strive afresh against the foe; should strive and should prevail; . and that a higher gift than grace should flesh and blood refine, god's presence and his very self, and essence all divine. . o gen'rous love! the he who smote in man for man the foe, the double agony in man for man should undergo; . and in the garden secretly, and on the cross on high, should teach his brethren and inspire to suffer and to die. page - ---------- no. general lord, for tomorrow and its needs ("just for today") sister m. xavier nicola a. montani slowly . lord, for tomorrow and its needs i do not pray: keep me, my god, from stain of sin, just for today. let me both diligently work, and duly pray: let me be kind in word or deed, just for today. . let me be slow to do my will, prompt to obey: help me to mortify my flesh, just for today. let me no wrong or idle word unthinkingly say; set thou a seal upon my lips, just for today. . let me in season, lord, be grave, in season, gay; let me be faithful to thy grace, just for today. and if today my tide of life should ebb away, give me thy sacraments divine, sweet lord, today. . in purgatory's cleansing fires brief be my stay; oh, bid me, if today i die, go home today. so, for tomorrow and its needs, i do not pray; but keep me, guide me, love me, lord, just for today. page ---------- no. general why art thou sorrowful? the remembrance of mercy father faber s. m. yenn moderato . why art thou sorrowful, servant of god? and what is this dulness that hangs o'er thee now? sing the praises of jesus, and sing them aloud, and the song shall dispel the dark cloud from thy brow. sing the praises of jesus, and sing them aloud, and the song shall dispel the dark cloud from thy brow. . oh, is there a thought in the wide world so sweet, as that god has so cared for us, bad as we are, that he thinks for us, plans for us, stoops to entreat, and follows us, wander we ever so far? that he thinks for us, plans for us, stoops to entreat, and follows u, wander we ever so far? . oh, then, when the spirit of darkness comes down with clouds of uncertainties into thy heart, one look to thy saviour, one thought of thy crown, and the tempest is over, the shadows depart. one look to thy saviour, one thought of thy crown, and the tempest is over, the shadows depart. . that god hath once whispered a word in thine ear, or sent thee from heaven one sorrow for sin, is enough for a life both to banish all fear, and to turn into peace all the troubles within. is enough for a life both to banish all fear, and to turn into peace all the troubles within. page - ---------- no. general acts of faith, hope and charity for acts of contrition etc. see nos. , , and hymns for holy communion anon st. patrick's hymn book moderato (recitativo libero) (a) act of faith my god, i believe in thee, and all thy church doth teach, because thou hast said it and thy word is true. (b) act of hope my god, i hope in thee, for grace and for glory, because of thy promises, thy mercy, and thy pow'r. (c) act of charity my god, because thou art so good, i love thee with all my heart, and for thy sake. i love my neighbor as myself. page - ---------- no. our mother of sorrows passiontide and b. v. m. what a sea of tears and sorrows o quot undis lacrymarum tr. by rev. f. campbell ch. gounod arr. by n. a. m. andante religioso . what a sea of tears and sorrows did the soul of mary toss to and fro upon its billows while she wept her bitter loss; in her arms her jesus holding, torn so newly from the cross. . oh, that mournful virgin mother, see her tears how fast they flow down upon his mangled body wounded side and thorny brow; while his hands and feet she kisses, picture of immortal woe. . oft, and oft his arms and bosom, fondly straining to her own; oft, her pallid lips imprinting on each wound of her dear son: till at last in swoons of anguish, sense and consciousness are gone. . gentle mother, we beseech thee, by thy tears and troubles sore; by the death of thy dear offspring, by the bloody wounds he bore; touch our hearts with that true sorrow which affected thee of yore. page - ---------- no. general the divine praises organ sustains chords in recitations j. lewis browne slowly blessed be god! blessed be his holy name! blessed be jesus christ, true god and true man! blessed be the name of jesus; blessed be his most sacred heart, blessed jesus in the most holy sacrament of the altar! blessed be the great mother of god, mary most holy! blessed be her holy and immaculate conception; blessed be the name of mary, virgin and mother. blessed be saint joseph her most chaste spouse. blessed be god in his angels and in his saints page - ---------- no. general the lord's prayer our father, who art in heaven nicola a. montani andante religioso our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth, as it is heaven. give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. and lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. amen. page ---------- no. general hail. mary, full of grace the angelical salutation nicola a. montani devoto (slowly) con espressione hail mary, full of grace; the lord is with thee: blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, jesus. holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death. amen. page ---------- no. holy matrimony lord, who at cana's wedding feast a. thrupp j. lewis browne moderato . lord, who at cana's wedding feast didst as a guest appear, thou, dearer far than earthly guest, vouchsafe thy presence here; . for holy thou indeed dost prove the marriage vow to be, proclaiming it a type of love between the church and thee. . the holiest vow that man can make, the golden thread of life, the bond that none may dare divide, that bindeth man to wife. . which blest by thee, whate'er betides, no evil shall destroy, thro' careworn days each care divides, and doubles ev'ry joy. . on those who at thine altar kneel, o lord, thy blessing pour, that each may wake the other's zeal to love thee more and more: . oh grant them here in peace to live, in purity and love, and, this world leaving, to receive a crown of life above. amen. copyright gilbert music co. chicago, ill. by permission page ---------- no. advent creator alme siderum d. thermignon . creator alme siderum, aeterna lux credentium, jesu, redemptor omnium, intende votis supplicum. . qui daemonis ne fraudibus periret orbis impetu amoris, actus, languidi mundi mendela factus es. . commune qui mundi nefas ut expiares, ad crucem e virginis sacrario intacta prodis victima. . cujus potestas gloriae, nomenque cum primum sonat, et coelites et inferi tremente curvantur genu. . te deprecamur, ultimae magnum diei judicem, armis supernae gratiae defende nos ab hostibus. . virtus, honor, laus, gloria deo patri cum filio, sancto simul paraclito, in saeculorum saecula. amen. page ---------- no. veni, veni emmanuel ancient chant . veni, veni emmanuel! captivum solve israel qui gemit in exilio privatus dei filio. refrain gaude, gaude, emmanuel nascetur pro te, israel. . veni, o jesu virgula! ex hostis tuos ungula de specu tuos tartari, educ, et antro barathri . veni, veni o oriens! solare nos adveniens: noctis depelle nebulas, dirasque noctis tenebras. . veni clavis davidica! regna, reclude coelica fac iter tutum supernum et claude vias inferum. page ---------- no. o emmanuel antiphonae majores second mode o emmanuel, rex et legifer noster, exspectatio gentium et salvator earum: veni ad salvandum nos. domine deus noster. page ---------- no. en clara vox redarguit first mode antiphoale (vatican edition) . en clara vox redarguit obscura quaeque personans: procul fugentur somnia, ab alto jesus promicat. . mens jam resurgat torpida, non amplius jacens humi: sidus refulget jam novum, ut tollat omne noxium. . en agnes ad nos mittitur laxare gratis debitum: omnes simul cum lacrimis precemur indulgentiam. . ut cum secundo fulserit, metuque mundum cinxerit, non pro reatu puniat, sed nos pius tune protegat. . virtus, honor, laus, gloria deo patri cum filio, sancto simul paraclito, in saeculorum saecula. amen. page ---------- no. a christmas jesu redemptor omnium vatican antiphonale . jesu redemptor omnium, quem lucis ante originem, parem paternae gloriae, pater supremis edidit. . tu lumen et splendor patris, tu spes perennis omnium: intende quas fundunt preces tui per orbem servuli. . memento rerum conditor, nostri quod olim corporis, sacrata ab alvo virginis nascendo, formam sumpseris. . testatur hoc praesens dies, currens per anni circulum, quod solus e sinu patris mundi salus ad veneris. . hunc astra, tellus, aequora, hunc omne quod coelo subest, salutis auctorem novae novo salutat cantico. . et nos, beata quos sacri rigavit unda sanguinis, natalis ob diem tui, hymni tributum solvimus. . jesu, tibi sit gloria, qui natus es de virgine, cum patre et almo spiritu, in sempiterna saecula. amen. page ---------- no. b jesu redemptor omnium alternate setting by taler dominican monk monastery of strasbourg arr. by n. a. m. may be sung in alternate fashion with a . jesu redemptor omnium, quem lucis ante originem, parem paternae gloriae, pater supremis edidit. . tu lumen et splendor patris, tu spes perennis omnium: intende quas fundunt preces tui per orbem servuli. amen. page ---------- no. resonet in laudibus christmas song of the xiv century . resonet in laudibus cum jucundus plausibus, sion cum fidelibus. refrain apparuit quem genuit maria gaudete, gaudete, christus natus hodie! gaudete, gaudete, ex maria virgine. . sion lauda dominum salvatorem omnium virgo parit filium. . pueri concurrite nato regi psallite voce pia dicite. . natus est emmanuel quem praedixit gabriel testis est ezechiel . juda cum cantoribus gradere de foribus et dic cum pastoribus. . qui regnat in aethere, venit ovem quaerere, nolens eam perdere. page ---------- no. ecce nomen domini emmanuel ecce nomen domini emmanuel, quod annuntiatum est per gabriel, hodie apparuit in israel: per mariam virginem est natus rex. eia! virgo deum genuit, ut divina voluit clementia. in bethlehem natus est, et in jerusalem visus est, et in omnem terram honorificatus est, rex israel. page - ---------- no. adeste fideles traditional melody aedante . adeste, fideles, laeti triumphantes; venite, venite in bethlehem: natum videte regem angelorum: venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, dominum. . en grege relicto, humiles ad cunas vocati pastores approperant: et nos ovanti gradu festinebus: venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, dominum. . aeterni parentis splendorem aeternum velatum sub carne videbimus: deum infantem panis involutum: venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, dominum. . pro nobis egenum et foeno cubantem piis foveamus amplexibus: sic nos amantem quis non redamaret? venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, dominum. page - ---------- no. puer nobis nascitur david scheideman ( - ) moderato . puer nobis nascitur rector angelorum in hoc mundo pascitur dominus dominorum. . in praesepe ponitur sub foeno jumentorum cognovit bos et asinus christum regem coelorum. . hinc herodes timuit magna cum tremore infantes et pueros occidet prae dolore. . qui natus ex maria die hodierna perducat nos cum gratia ad gaudia superna. . angeli laetati sunt etiam de deo cantaverunt: gloria sit in excelsis deo. . nos de tali gaudio concinamus choro, in chordis et organo benedicamus domino. . laus et jubilatio nostro sit in ore, et semper angelicas deo dicamus gratias. page ---------- no. tollite hostias motet for two or four part chorus c. st. saens arr. by n. a. m. allegro maestoso . tollite hostias, et introite in atria ejus. . adorate, adorate dominum in atrio sancto ejus. , . laetentur coeli et exsultet terra ante faciem domini quoniam venit. . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. . laetentur coeli et exsultet terra ante faciem domini quoniam venit. page ---------- no. a the holy name jesu dulcis memoria motet for four part chorus st. bernard t. l. da vittoria arr. by n. a. m. lento jesu dulcis memoria, dans vera, vera cordis gaudia, gaudia sed super mel et omnia, super mel et omnia ejus dulcis praesentia, dulcis praesentia. page ---------- no. b jesu dulcis memoria for unison or two part chorus cornelius schmuck (abridged) moderato . jesu dulcis memoria, dans vera cordis gaudia, gaudia sed super mel et omnia, ejus dulcis praesentia. . nil canitur suavius, nil auditur jucundius, nil cogitatur dulcius, quam jesus dei filius . jesu, spes paenitentibus, quam pius es petentibus! quam bonus te quaerentibus! sed quid invenientibus, . nec lingua valet dicere, nec littera exprimere: expertus potest credere, quid sit jesum diligere. . sis, jesu, nostrum gaudium, qui es futurus praemium: sit nostra in te gloria, per cuncta semper saecula. amen. page ---------- no. c jesu dulcis memoria vatican antiphonale . jesu dulcis memoria, dans vera cordis gaudia: sed super mel et omnia, ejus dulcis praesentia. . nil canitur suavius, nil auditur jucundius, nil cogitatur dulcius, quam jesus dei filius . jesu, spes paenitentibus, quam pius es petentibus! quam bonus te quaerentibus! sed quid invenientibus, . nec lingua valet dicere, nec littera exprimere: expertus potest credere, quid sit jesum diligere. . sis, jesu, nostrum gaudium, qui es futurus praemium: sit nostra in te gloria, per cuncta semper saecula. amen. page ---------- no. a lent and passiontide stabat mater ( ) sequentia jacopone da todi (d. ) traditional melody from the maintzeseh gesangbuch ( ) lento . stabat mater dolorosa juxta crucem lacrymosa, dum pendebat filius. . cujus animam gememtem, contristatam et dolentem, pertransivit gladius. . o quam tristis et afflicta fuit illa benedicta mater unigeniti! . quae moerebat et dolebat, pia mater dum videbat nati poenas inclyti. . quis est homo, qui non fleret, matrem christi si videret in tanto supplicio? . quis non posset contristari, christi matrem contemplari dolentem cum filio? . pro peccatis suae gentis vidit jesum in tormentis, et flagellis subditum. . vidit suum dulcem natum moriendo desolatum, dum emisit spiritum. . eia mater, fons amoris, me sentire vim doloris fac, ut tecum lugeam. . fac ut ardeat cor meum in amando christum deum, ut sibi complaceam. . sancta mater, istud agas, crucifixi fige plagas cordi meo valide. . tui nati vulnerati, tam dignati pro me pati, poenas mecum divide. . fac me tecum pie flere, crucifixo condolere, donec ego vixero. . juxta crucem tecum stare, et me tibi sociare in planctu desidero. . virgo virginum praeclara, mihi jam non sis amara: fac me tecum plangere; . fac ut portem christi mortem, passionis fac consortem et plagas recolere. . fac me plagis vulnerari, fac me cruce inebriari, et cruore filii; . flammis ne urar succensus, per te virgo, sim defensus in die judicii. . christe, cum sit hinc exire da per matrem me venire ad palmam victoriae; . quando corpus morietur, fac ut animae donetur paradisi gloria. amen. page - ---------- no. b stabat mater ( ) g. m. nanini ( - ) arr. by n. a. m. moderato assai stabat mater dolorosa juxta crucem lacrymosa, dum pendebat filius. ---------- no. c stabat mater ( ) giuseppe tartini ( - ) andante stabat mater dolorosa juxta crucem lacrymosa, dum pendebat filius. page ---------- no. palm sunday music by franz schubert edited and revised by n. a. montani after the sprinkling of holy water, the palms are blessed and the choir sings the following antiphon: hosanna filio david allegro moderato hosanna filio david: benedictus qui venit in nomine domini. rex israel: hosanna in excelsis. page ---------- no. in monte oliveti after the singing of the lesson the following responsory is sung adagio . in monte oliveti oravit ad patrem: pater, si fieri potest, transeat a me calix iste. spiritus quidem promptus est caro autem infirma: fiat volutas tua. . vigilate, et orate, orate, ut non intretis, intretis, intentationem. after the preface (with responses in ferial form, as at requiem, see no. ( )) the choir sings the sanctus and benedictus. page ---------- no. sanctus and benedictus fr. schubert adagio sanctus, sanctus, sanctus dominus deus sabaoth. pleni sunt coeli et terra gloria tua, hosanna in excelsis. benedictus qui venit in nomine domini hosanna in excelsis. page ---------- no. pueri hebraeorum after a number of prayers and responses, at the distribution of palms, the choir sings the following antiphon. fr. schubert andante pueri hebraeorum, portantes ramos olivarum, obviaverunt domino, clamantes, et dicentes: hosanna in excelsis. page ---------- no. cum angelis et pueris just before the procession takes place the deacon sings; "procedamus in pace" the choir answers: "in nomine christi. amen." the following is then sung; fr. schubert allegro moderato cum angelis et pueris fideles in veniamur, triumphatori mortis clamantes: hosanna in excelsis. when the procession has reached the portal of the church two or four chanters enter and, facing the door begin the "gloria laus;" the clergy and singers outside repeat the verse. chanters sing each new stanza while the singers outside repeat the "gloria laus". at the end of the last stanza the procession enters the church the music being changed to "ingrediente." page ---------- no. gloria, laus et honor o. ravanello (abridged) moderato . gloria, laus, et honor, tibi sit rex christi redemptor: cui puerile decus prompsit hosanna pium. . israel es tu rex, davidis et inclyta proles: nomine qui in domini, rex benedicte, venis . coetus in excelsis te laudat coelicus omnis et mortalis homo, et cuncta creata simul. . plebs hebraea tibi cum palmis obvia venit: cum prece, voto, hymnis, adsumus ecce tibi. . hi tibi passuro solvebant munia laudis: nos tibi regnanti, pangimus ecce melos. . hi placuere tibi, placeat devotio nostra; rex bone, rex clemens, cui bona cuncta placent. page ---------- no. ingrediente fr. schubert andante . ingrediente domino in sanctam civitatem, hebraeorum pueri, resurrectionem vitae pronuntiantes. cum ramis palmarum hosanna clamabunt in excelsis. . cumque audisset popolus quod jesus veniret, jerosolymam, exierunt obviam ei. cum ramis palmarum hosanna clamabunt in excelsis. page ---------- no. holy week responsories in monte oliveti for two or four part chorus michael haydn ( ) edited and revised by n. a. m. andante moderato in monte oliveti oravit ad patrem: pater, si fieri potest, transeat a me calix iste: spiritus quidem promptus est, caro autem infirma: fiat voluntas tua. vigilate, et orare, ut non intretis in tentationem. page - ---------- no. tristis est anima mea m. haydn revised by n. a. m. largo con espressione tristis est anima mea usque ad mortem; sustinete hic, et viglate mecum; nunc videbitis turbam, quae circumdabit me. vos fugam capietis, et ego vadam immolari pro vobis: ecce appropinquat hora, et filius hominis tradetur in manus peccatorum. page ---------- no. una hora non potuistis vigilare m. haydn revised by n. a. m. adagio con espressione una hora non potuistis viglare mecum, qui exhortabamini mori pro me? vel judam non videtis, quo modo non dormit, sed festinat tradere me judaeis? quid dormitis? surgite, et orate, ne intretis in tentationem. vel judam non videtis, quo modo non dormit, sed festinat tradere me judaeis? page - ---------- no. tanquam ad latronem existis m. haydn arr. by n. a. m. moderato tanquam ad latronem existis com gladiis et fustibus comprehendere me: quotidie apud vos eram in templo docens, et non me tenuistis, et ecce flagellatum ducitis ad crucufigendum. cumque injecissent manus in jesum, et tenuissent eum, dixit ad eos. quotidie apud vos eram in templo docens, et non me tenuistis, et ecce flagellatum ducitis ad crucufigendum. page - ---------- no. velum templi scissum est m. haydn edited by n. a. m. con anima velum templi scissum est, et omnis terra tremuit; latro de cruce clamabat, dicens: memento mei, domine, dum veneris in regnum tuum. petrae scissae sunt, et monumenta aperta sunt, et multa corpora sanctorum, qui dormierant, surrexerunt. et omnis terra tremuit; latro de cruce clamabat, dicens: memento mei, domine, dum veneris in regnum tuum. page - ---------- no. tenebrae factae sunt michael haydn edited by n. a. m. lento tenebrae factae sunt, dum crucifixissent jesum judaei, et circa horam nonam, exclamavit jesus voce maga: deus meus, ut quid me dereliquisti? et inclinato capite, emisit spiritum, spiritum. exclamans jesus voce magna ait: pater, in manus tuas commendo spiritum meum. et inclinato capite, emisit spiritum, spiritum. page - ---------- no. ecce, quomodo moritur justus michael haydn edited and revised by n. a. m lento ecce, quomodo moritur justus, et nemo percipit corde; et viri justi tolluntur, et nemo considerat. a facie iniquitatis sublatus est justus: et erit in pace memoria ejus tanquam agnus coram tondente se obmutuit, et non aperuit os suum; de angustia, et de judicio sublatus est. et erit in pace memoria ejus. ecce, quomodo moritur justus, et nemo percipit corde; et viri justi tolluntur, et nemo considerat. a facie iniquitatis sublatus est justus: et erit in pace memoria ejus. page - ---------- no. unus ex discipulis meis michael haydn revised by n. a. m. andante religioso unus ex discipulis meis tradet me hodie: vae illi per quem tradar ego; melius illi erat, si natus non fuisset. qui intingit mecum in paropside, hic me traditurus est in manus peccatorum. melius illi erat, si natus non fuisset. melius illi erat, si natus non fuisset. page - ---------- no. recessit pastor noster michael haydn edited by n.a.m. andante moderato recessit pastor noster, fons aquae vivae, ad cujus transitum sol obscuratus est; nam et ille captus est, qui captivum tenebat primum hominem: hodie portas mortis et seras pariter salvator noster dirupit. destruxit quidem claustra inferni, et subvertit potentias diaboli. nam et ille captus est, qui captivum tenebat primum hominem: hodie portas mortis et seras pariter salvator noster dirupit. page ---------- no. omnes amici mei dereliquerunt me michael haydn edited by n. a. montani lento con espressione omnes amici mei dereliquerunt me, et praevaluerunt insidiantes mihi; tradidit me, quem diligebam: et terribilibus oculis plaga crudeli percutientes, aceto potabant me. inter iniquos projecerunt me, et non pepercerunt animae meae. et terribilibus oculis plaga crudeli percutientes, aceto potabant me. page ---------- no. ecce vidimus eum michael haydn arr. by n. a. m. andante sostenuto piu vivo ecce! vidimus eum non habentem speciem, neque decorem: aspectus ejus in eo non est: hic peccata nostra portavit, et pro nobis dolet; ipse autem vulneratus est propter iniquitates nostras, cujus livore sanati sumus. vere languores nostros ipse tulit, et delores nostros ipse potavit. cujas livore sanati sumus. cujas levore sanati sumus. page - ---------- no. caligaverunt oculi mei michael haydn edited and revised by n. a. m. andante moderato caligaverunt oculi mei a fletu meo; quia elongatus est a me, qui consolabatur me. videte omnes populi: si est dolor similis sicut dolor meus. o vos omnes, qui transitis per viam, attendite et videte! si est dolor similis sicut dolor meus. caligaverunt oculi mei a fletu meo; quia elongatus est a me, qui consolabatur me. videte omnes populi: si est dolor similis sicut dolor meus. page - ---------- no. a lent and passiontide vexilla regis prodeunt ( ) vatican graduale . vexilla regis prodeunt: fulget crucis mysterium, quo carne carnis conditor suspensus est patibulo. . quo vulneratus insuper mucrone diro lanceae, ut nos lavaret crimine, manavit unda et sanguine. . impleta sunt quae concinit, david fideli carmine; dicens: in nationibus regnavit a ligno deus. . arbor decora et fulgida, ornata regis purpura, electa digno stipite, tam sancta membra tangere. . beata, cujus brachiis, saecli pependit pretium; statera facta corporis; praedamque tulit tartari. . o crux, ave, spes unica; hoc passionis tempore, auge piis justitiam reisque dona veniam. . te summa deus trinitas, collaudet omnis spiritus, quos per crucis mysterium, salvas, rege per saecula. amen. page ---------- no. b vexilla regis prodeunt ( ) the entire hymn may be sung to the melody given at a or if preferred may be sung alternately with this melody (l b). n. a. montani con moto . vexilla regis prodeunt: fulget crucis mysterium, quo carne carnis conditor suspensus est patibulo. . quo vulneratus insuper mucrone diro lanceae, ut nos lavaret crimine, manavit unda et sanguine. page ---------- no. c vexilla regis prodeunt ( ) traditional melody ( ) andante . vexilla regis prodeunt: fulget crucis mysterium, quo carne carnis conditor suspensus est patibulo. . quo vulneratus insuper mucrone diro lanceae, ut nos lavaret crimine, manavit unda et sanguine. . impleta sunt quae concinit, david fideli carmine; dicens: in nationibus regnavit a ligno deus. . arbor decora et fulgida, ornata regis purpura, electa digno stipite, tam sancta membra tangere. . beata, cujus brachiis, saecli pependit pretium; statera facta corporis; praedamque tulit tartari. . o crux, ave, spes unica; hoe passionis tempore, auge piis justitiam reisque dona veniam. . te summa deus trinitas, collaudet omnis spiritus, quos per crucis mysterium, salvas, rege per saecula. amen. page ---------- no. the seven last words music for the three hours' agony note: these short pieces may be sung before the principal discourse on each word and a haydn passion motet or an appropriate lenten hymn, either in english or latin may be given at the close first word: "pater, dimitte illis" ch. gounod abridged and revised by n. a. m. adagio con espressione pater, dimitte illis, non enim sciunt, quid faciunt, non enim sciunt quid faciunt. ---------- second word: amen dico tibi, hodie mecum eris in paradiso ch. gounod moderato amen dico tibi, hodie, hodie mecum eris in paradiso page ---------- no. third word: "mulier, ecce filius tuus! ecce mater tua!" ch. gounod andante mulier, mulier, ecce filius tuus! ecce mater tua! ecce mater, mater tua. page ---------- no. fourth word "deus meus, ut quid dereliquisti me?" ch. gounod lento con espressione deus meus, deus meus, ut quid dereliquisti me? ut quid dereliquisti me? page ---------- no. fifth word: "sitio" th. dubois revised and adapted by n. a. m. adigio (unison or solo) sitio, sitio, sitio, sitio. page ---------- no. sixth word: "consummatum est" th. dubois adapted by n. a. m. andante "consummatum est." (et inclinato capite, tradidit spiritum). "consummatum est." ---------- no. seventh word: "pater, in manus tuas" th. dubois (adapted) adagio pater, in manus tuas commendo spiritum meum. pater, in manus tuas commendo spiritum meum. page ---------- no. a adoramus te christe ( ) th. dubois adagio adoramus te christe, et benedicimus tibi: adoramus te christe, et benedicimus tibi: quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum. adoramus te christe, et benedicimus tibi: adoramus te christe, page ---------- no. b adoramus te christe ( ) motet for four part chorus g. p. da palestrina edited by n. a. m. lento adoramus te christe, et benedicimus tibi: quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum. qui passus es pro nobis; domine, domine, miserere nobis. page ---------- no. antiphon for good friday ecce lignum crucis at the uncovering of the cross from the vatican graduale sung three times, in successively higher keys. celebrant ecce lignum crucis, in quo salus mundi pependit. venite adoremus. page ---------- no. popule meus the following improperia is sung during the adoration of the cross. vittoria full text added by n. a. m. . popule meus, quid feci tibi? aut in quo contristavi te? responde mihi. . quia eduxi te de terra acgypti: parasti crucem salvatori tuo. . agios theos. . sanctus deus. . agios ischyros. . sanctus fortis. . agios athanatos, eleison imas. . sanctus, immortalis miserere nobis. page - ---------- no. christus factus est pietro a. yon (written expressly for the st. gregory hymnal) lento christus factus est pro nobis obediens usque ad mortem, obediens usque ad mortem. (mortem autem crucis.) ( exaltavit.) propter quod et deus, exaltavit illum, et dedit illi nomen, quod est super omne nomen. page ---------- no. holy saturday music after the blessing of the font the following order is observed: (a) the litany of the saints is sung. (b) the kyrie follows (chant or figured music without organ) then the "gloria" is intoned (c) the choir beginning with "et in terra pax" (with organ accompaniment). the epistle is sung after which the "alleluia" (d) is intoned. this is sung three times in successively higher keys by the celebrant, unaccompanied, and each time is repeated by the choir in the same key as taken by the celebrant (with accompaniment, if preferred). alleluia. confitemini domino, quoniam bonus: quoniam in saeculum misericordia ejus. laudate dominum omnes gentes: et collaudate eum omnes populi. quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus: et veritas domini manet in aeternum. the gospel response in then sung; see no. ( ) credo and offertory are ommitted. preface follows with usual responses (see - ) after which the sanctus and benedictus are sung. the "agnus dei" is not sung, but after the communion the choir proceeds with the following antiphon and psalm. alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. . laudate dominum omnes gentes; laudate eum omnes populi. . quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus: et veritas domini manet in aeternum. . gloria patri et filio; et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc et semper; et in saecula saeculorum. amen. alleluia (h) is repeated; then choir proceeds immediately with the antiphon "vespere." (i) vespere autem sabbati quae lucescit in prima sabbati, venit maria magdalene, et altera maria, videre sepulcrum, alleluia. to magnificat no. , after the magnificat the antiphon "vespere" (i) is repeated, the celebrant then sings "dominus vobiscum" with proper choir response, then after a short oration and another "dominus" the deacon sings the paschal "ite missa est" (j) the choir responding in the manner indicated. (k) ite missa est, alleluia, alleluia. deo gratias, alleluia, alleluia. page - - - ---------- no. eastertlde o filii et filiae jean tisserand (d. ) traditional melody . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. o filii et filiae rex coelestis, rex gloriae morte surrexit hodie. alleluia . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. et mane prima sabbati, ad ostium monumenti accesserunt discipuli. alleluia. . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. et maria magdalene, et jacobi, et salome venerunt corpus ungere. alleluia. . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. in albis sedens angelus praedixit mulieribus in galliaea est dominus. alleluia. . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. et joannes apostolus cucurrit petro citius, monumento venit prius. alleluia. . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. discipulis astantibus, in medio stetit christus, dicens: pax vobis omnibus. alleluia. . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. postquam audivit didymus quia surrexerat jesus, remansit fide dubius. alleluia. . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. vide thoma, vide latus vide pedes, vide manus, noli esse incredulus. alleluia. . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. quando thomas christi latus, pedes vidit atque manus, dixit: tu es deus meus. alleluia. . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. beati qui non viderunt, et firmiter crediderunt, vitam aeternam habebunt. alleluia. . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. in hoc festo sanctissimo sit laus et jubilatio, benedicamus domino. alleluia. . alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. de quibus nos humillimas devotas atque debitas deo dicamus gratias. alleluia. page - ---------- no. victimae paschali laudes sequence for easter vatican graduale first mode transposed. . victimae paschali laudes immolent christiani. . agnus redemit oves: christus innocens patri reconciliavit peccatores. . mors et vita duello conflixero mirando: dux vitae mortuus regnat vivus. . die nobis maria, quid vidisti in via? . sepulcrum christi viventis, et gloriam vidi resurgentis. . angelicos testes, sudarium, et vestes. . surrexit christus spes mea: praecedet suos in gallilaeam. . scimus christum surrexisse a mortuis vere: tu nobis victor, rex miserere. amen. alleluia. page - ---------- no. concordi laetitia sixth mode . concordi laetitia, propulsa maestitia, mariae praeconia recolat ecclesia: virgo maria. . quae felici gaudio, resurgente domino, floriut et lilium: vivum cernens filium: virgo maria. . quam concentu parili chori laudant coelici, et nos cum coelestibus, novum melos pangimus; virgo maria. . o regina virginum, votis fave supplicum, et post mortis stadium, vitae confer praemium virgo maria. . gloriosa trinitas, indivisa unitas, ob mariae merita, nos salva per saecula: virgo maria. page ---------- no. pentecost veni sancte spiritus sequence for pentecost s. webbe ( - ) moderato . veni sancte spiritus, et emitte coelitus lucis tuae radium. veni pater pauperum, veni, dator munerum, veni lumen cordium. . consolator optime, dulcis hospes animae, dulce refrigerium. in labore requies, in aestu temperies, in fletu solatium. . o lux beatissima, reple cordis intima tuorum fidelium sine tuo numine, nihil est in homine, nihil est in noxium. . lava quod est sordium, riga quod est aridum, sana quod est saucium flecte quod est rigidum, fove quod est frigidum, rege quod est devium. . da tuis fidelibus, in te confidentibus; sacrum septenarium da virtutis meritum, da salutis exium, da perenne gaudium. amen. alleluia. page ---------- no. a veni creator spiritus invocation to the holy ghost nicola a. montani moderato . veni creator spiritus, mentes tuorum visita; imple superna gratia quae tu creasti, pectora. . qui disceris paraclitus, altissimi donum dei, fons vivus, ignis, caritas, et spiritalis unctio. . tu septiformis munere, digitus paternae dexterae, tu rite promissum patris, sermone ditans guttura. . accende lumen sensibus, infunde amorum cordibus, infirma nostri corporis, virtute firmans perpeti. . hostem repellas longius, pacemque donnes protinus: ducatore sic te praevio, vitemus omne noxium. . per te sciamus da patrem, noscamus atque filium, teque utriusque spiritum credamus omni tempore. . deo patri sit gloria, et filio qui a mortuis surrexit ac paraclito, in saeculorum saecula. amen. page ---------- no. b veni creator spiritus secundum usum recentiorem vatican graduale eighth mode . veni creator spiritus, mentes tuorum visita; imple superna gratia quae tu creasti, pectora. . qui disceris paraclitus, altissimi donum dei, fons vivus, ignis, caritas, et spiritalis unctio. . tu septiformis munere, digitus paternae dexterae, tu rite promissum patris, sermone ditans guttura. . accende lumen sensibus, infunde amorum cordibus, infirma nostri corporis, virtute firmans perpeti. . hostem repellas longius, pacemque donnes protinus: ducatore sic te praevio, vitemus omne noxium. . per te sciamus da patrem, noscamus atque filium, teque utriusque spiritum credamus omni tempore. . deo patri sit gloria, et filio qui a mortuis surrexit ac paraclito, in saeculorum saecula. amen. page ---------- no. a the blessed virgin ave maria salutatio angelica gregorian first mode (transposed) ave maria, gratia plena; dominus tecum, benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus vetris tui, jesus. sancta maria, mater dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. amen. ---------- no. b ave maria for unison, two or four part chorus jacques arcadelt revised and full text added by n. a. m. andante ave maria, gratia plena; dominus tecum, benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus vetris tui, jesus. sancta maria, mater dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. amen. ---------- no. c ave maria cesar franck rearranged for unison or two part chorus by n. a. m. lento ave maria, gratia plena; dominus tecum, benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus vetris tui, jesus. sancta maria, mater dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. amen. page - - - ---------- no. a ave maris stella vatican antiphonale first mode (transposed) . ave maria stella, dei mater alma, atque semper virgo felix coeli porta. . sumens illud ave gabrielis ore, funda nos in pace, mutans hevae nomen. . solve vincla reis, profer lumen caecis, mala nostra pelle, bona cuncta posce. . monstra te esse matrem, sumat per te preces, qui pro nobis natus, tulit esse tuus. . virgo singularis, inter omnes mitis, nos culpis solutos, mites fac et castos. . vitam praesta puram, iter para tutum: ut videntes jesum, semper collaetemur. . sit laus deo patri, summo christo decus, spiritui sancto, tribus honor unus. amen. page ---------- no. b ave maris stella for unison chorus balthasar florence andante religioso . ave maria stella, dei mater alma, atque semper virgo felix coeli porta. amen. for additional verses see a ---------- no. c ave maris stella j. mohr con moto . ave maria stella, dei mater alma, atque semper virgo felix coeli porta. amen. for additional verses see a ---------- no. d ave maris stella edv. grieg adapted for two part chorus by n. a. m. con moto . ave maria stella, dei mater alma, atque semper virgo felix coeli porta. . sumens illud ave gabrielis ore, funda nos in pace, mutans hevae nomen. amen. page - ---------- no. alma redemptoris mater antiphon sung from the saturday before the first sunday in advent to the second vespers feast of the purification inclusive. ch. gounod arr. for two of four part chorus by n. a. m. andante moderato alma redemptoris mater, quae pervia coeli porta manes. et stella maris, succurre cadenti surgere qui curat populo, succurre, succurre cadenti surgere qui curat populo; tu quae genuisti, natura mirante tuum sanctum genitorem: virgo prius ac posterius, gabrielis abore sumens illud ave, peccatorum miserere, peccatorum miserere. clebrant:- angelus domini nuntiavit maria choir response:- et concepit de spiritu sancto after advent cel.:- post partum virgo inviolata permansisti choir:- dei genitrix intercede pro nobis. page - ---------- no. ave, regina coelorum for unison or two-part chorus of equal voices (from february second until holy thursday) nicola a. montani andante con moto ave, regina coelorum, ave, domina angelorum: salve radix, salve porta, ex qua mundo lux est orta: gaude virgo gloriosa, super omnes speciosa: vale, o valde decora, et pro nobis christum exora. cel.:- dignare me laudare te virgo sacrata. choir:- da mihi virtutem contra hostes tuos. page ---------- no. regina coeli from compline, holy saturday, to none, saturday, within the octave of pentecost. antonio lotti ( - ) revised and edited for two or four part chorus by n. a. m. allegro moderato regina coeli laetare, alleluia, laetare, alleluia: quia quem meruisti portare, alleluia, alleluia, resurrexit sicut dixit. alleluia, alleluia ora pro nobis, pro nobis deum. alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. v. gaude et laetare, virgo maria, alleluia. r. quia surrexit dominus vere, alleluia. page ---------- no. salve regina fr. schubert revised and edited by n. a. m. moderato assai salve, regina, mater misericordiae: vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve, et spes nostra salve. ad te clamamus, exsules, filii hevae. ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes in hac lacrimarum valle. eia ergo advocata nostra, illos tuos misericordes oculos ad nos converte. et jesum, benedictum fructum ventris tui, ventris tui, nobis post hoc exsilium ostende. o clemens; o pia; o dulcis virgo maria. o clemens; o pia; o dulcis virgo maria. v. ora pro nobis sancta dei genitrix. r. ut digni efficiamur promissionibus christi. page - ---------- no. o sanctissima, o piissima traditional melody sicilian moderato . o sanctissima, o piissima, dulcis virgo maria! mater amata, intemerata, ora, ora pro nobis. . tu solatium, et refugium, virgo mater maria! quidquid optamus, per te speramus; ora, ora pro nobis. . ecce debiles, perquam flebiles, salve nos, maria! tolle languores, sana dolores, ora, ora pro nobis. . virgo respice, mater, aspice, audi nos, maria! tu medicinam, portas divinam; ora, ora pro nobis. page ---------- no. regina coeli, jubila traditional melody moderato . chanters: regina coeli, jubila, tutti: gaude, maria! chanters: jam pulsa cedunt nubila. tutti: alleluia! laetare, o maria! . chanters: quam digna terris gignere, tutti: gaude, maria! chanters: vivis resurget funere. tutti: alleluia! laetare, o maria! . chanters: sunt fracta mortis spicula, tutti: gaude, maria! chanters: jesu jacet mors subdita. tutti: alleluia! laetare, o maria! . chanters: acerbitas solatium, tutti: gaude, maria! chanters: luctus redonat gaudium. tutti: alleluia! laetare, o maria! . chanters: turbata sputis lumina, tutti: gaude, maria! chanters: phoebea vincunt fulgara. tutti: alleluia! laetare, o maria! . chanters: manum pedumque vulnera, tutti: gaude, maria! chanters: sunt gratiarum flumina. tutti: alleluia! laetare, o maria! . chanters: transversa ligni robora tutti: gaude, maria! chanters: sunt sceptra regni fulgida. tutti: alleluia! laetare, o maria! . chanters: lucet arundo purpura, tutti: gaude, maria! chanters: ut fulva terrae viscera. tutti: alleluia! laetare, o maria! . chanters: catena, clavi, lancea, tutti: gaude, maria! chanters: triumphi sunt insignia. tutti: alleluia! laetare, o maria! . chanters: ergo, maria plaudito, tutti: gaude, maria! chanters: clientibus succurrito. tutti: alleluia! laetare, o maria! page ---------- no. inviolata antiphon b. v. m. ch. gounod arranged for two part chorus by n. a. m. moderato inviolata, integra, et casta es maria, et casta es maria: quae es effecta fulgida coeli porta. o mater alma christi carissima: o mater alma christi carissima: suscipe, suscipe pia laudum praeconia. te nunc flagitant devota corda et ora: nostra ut pura pectora sint et corpora tua per precata dulcisona. tua per precata, precata dulcisona. nobis concedas veniam per saecula o benigna! o regina! o maria! quae sola inviolata permansisti. page - - ---------- no. salve mater misericordiae gregorian fifth mode refrain salve mater misericordiae, mater dei, et mater veniae, mater spei, et mater gratiae, mater plena sanctae laetitiae; o maria! . salve deus humani generis salve virgo dignior ceteris, quae virgines omnes transgrederis, et altius sedes in superis, o maria! . salve felix virgo puerpera: nam qui sedet in patris dextera, coelum regens, terram et aethera, intra tua se clausit viscera, o maria! . te creavit pater ingenitus, obumbravit te uniqenitus, foecundavit te sanctus spiritus, tu es facta tota divnitus, o maria! . te creavit deus mirabilem, te respexit ancillam humilem, te quaesivit sponsam amabilem, tibi nunquam fecit consimilem, o maria! . te beatam laudare cupiunt omnes justi, sed non sufficiunt; multas laudes de te concipiunt, sed in illis prorsus deficiunt, o maria! . esto, mater, nostrum solatium nostram esto, tu virgo gaudium; et nos tandem post hoc exsilium, laetos junge choris coelestium, o maria! page - ---------- no. a o gloriosa virginum (no. ) unison chorus melody from the "harfe davis" arr, by p. j. van damme moderato . o gloriosa virginum, sublimis inter sidera, qui te creavit parvulum lactente nutris ubere. . quod heva tristis abstulit, tu reddis almo germine: intrent ut aster flebiles, coeli recludis cardines. . tu regis alti janua, et aula lucis fulgida: vitam datam per virginem gentes redemtae plaudite. . jesu tibi sit gloria qui natus es de virgine cum patre et almo spiritu, in sempiterna saecula. amen. page ---------- no. b o gloriosa virginum (no. ) unison or two-part chorus f. de la tombelle arr. by n. a. m. andante relisioso . o gloriosa virginum, sublimis inter sidera, qui te creavit parvulum lactente nutris ubere. . quod heva tristis abstulit, tu reddis almo germine: intrent ut aster flebiles, coeli recludis cardines. amen, amen, amen. page ---------- no. salve regina coelitum unison, two or three part chorus, equal voices or four part unequal traditional melody arr by p. j. van damme devota . salve regina coelitum, o maria! sors unica terrigenum, o maria! refrain jubilate, cherubim, exsultate, seraphim! consonante perpetim: salve, salve, salve regina. . mater misericordiae, o maria! dulcis parens clementiae, o maria! . tu vitae lux fons gratiae, o maria! causa nostrae laetitiae, o maria! . spes nostra, salve, domina, o maria! exstinque nostra crimina, o maria! . ad te clamamus exsules, o maria! te nos rogamus supplices, o maria! . audi nos evae filios, o maria! in te sperantes, o maria! . eia ergo nos respice, o maria! servos tuos ne despice, o maria! . converte tuos oculos, o maria! ad nos in hoc exilio, o maria! page - ---------- no. tota pulchra es, maria motet for unison or two-part chorus balthasar florence liturgically arranged by n. a. m andante moderato tota pulchra es, maria, et macula originalis non est in te. tu gloria jerusalem. tu laetitia israel. ta honorificentia populi nostri: tu advocata peccatorum. o maria! virgo prudentissma, mater clementissima, ora pro nobis; o maria! ora pro nobis ad dominum jesum christum; ad dominum jesum christum; page - ---------- no. a sub tuum praesidium (no. ) motet for two part chorus m. haller sub tuum praesidium confugimus, sancta dei genitrix, nostras deprecationes ne despicias in necessitatibus nostris: sed a periculis cunctis libera nos, libera nos, semper, virgo gloriosa, et benedicta, domina nostra, mediatrix nostra, advocata nostra, tuo filio nos reconsilia, tuo filio nos commenda, tuo filio nos repraesenta. ---------- no. b sub tuum praesidium (no. ) antiphon usually sung before the litany of the blessed virgin and before the "nunc dimittis." gregorian seventh mode sub tuum praesidium confugimus, sancta dei genitrix, nostras deprecationes ne despicias in necessitatibus: sed a periculis cunctis libera nos semper, virgo gloriosa, et benedicta, allelulia. page - - - ---------- no. litany of the blessed virgin litaniae lauretanae unison or two part chorus nicola a.montani moderately fast kyrie eleison. christe eleison. kyrie eleison. christe audinos. christe exaudinos. . chanters: pater de coelis deus, chorus: miserere nobis. . chanters: fili redemptor mundi deus, chorus: miserere nobis. . chanters: spiritus sancte deus, chorus: miserere nobis. . chanters: sancta trinitas unus deus, chorus: miserere nobis. . chanters: sancta maria, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: sancta dei genitrix, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: sancta virgo virginum, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: mater christi, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: mater divinae gratiae, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: mater purissima, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: mater castissima, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: mater inviolata, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: mater intemerata, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: mater amabilis, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: mater admirabilis, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: mater boni consilii chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: mater creatoris chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: mater salvatoris, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: virgo prudentissima, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: virgo veneranda, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: virgo praedicanda, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: virgo potens, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: virgo clemens, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: virgo fidelis, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: speculum justitiae, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: sedes sapientiae, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: causa nostrae laetitiae, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: vas spirituale, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: vas honorabile, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: vas insigne devotionis, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: rosa mystica, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: turis davidica, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: turis eburnea, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: domus aurea, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: foederis arca, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: janua coeli, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: stella matutina, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: salus infirmorum, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: refugium peccatorum, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: consolatrix afflictorum, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: auxilium christianorum, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: regina angelorum, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: regina patriarcharum, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: regina prophetarum, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: regina apostolorum, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: regina martyrum, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: regina confessorum, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: regina virginum, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: regina sanctorum omnium, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: regina sine labe originali concepta, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: regina sacratissimi rosarii chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: regina pacis, chorus: ora pro nobis. . chanters: agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi; chorus: parce nobis domine. . chanters: agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi; chorus: exaudinos domine; . chanters: agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi tutti: miserere nobis. v. ora pro nobis sancta dei genitrix. r. ut digni efficiamur promissionibus christi. page - - - - ---------- no. music for reception etc. veni sponsa christi for two part chorus nicola a. montani lento veni sponsa christi, veni sponsa christi, accipe coronam. quam tibi dominus praeparavit, praeparavit in aeternum. page ---------- no. the blessed virgin magnificat eighth psalm tone (solemnis) gregorian . magnificat anima mea dominum. . et exsultavit spiritus meus: in deo salutari meo. . quia respexit humilitatem ancillae suae: ecce enim ex hoc beatam me dicent omnes generationes. . quia fecit mihi magna qui potens est: et sanctum nomen ejus. . et misericordia ejus a progenie in progenies: timentibus eum. . fecit potentiam in brachio suo: dispersit superbos mente cordis sui. . deposuit potentes de sede, et exaltavit humiles. . esurientes implevit bonus: et divites dimisit inanes. . suscepit israel puerum suum: recordatus misericordiae suae. . sicut locutus est ad patres nostros: abraham, et semini ejus in saecula. . gloria patri et filio, et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. for the alternate verses the following falso bordone arrangement by ciro crassi may be used. (for two part chorus (or three part) equal voices.) page - ---------- no. ceremony music motets for reception, profession etc. regnum mundi for two part chorus nicola a. montani andante religioso regnum mundi, regnum mundi et omnem ornatam saeculi, contempsi propter a morem domini nostri, jesu christi. quem vidi quem amavi, in quem credidi quem dilexi. eructavit cor meum, verbum bonum: dico ego opera mea regi. quem vidi quem amavi, in quem credidi quem dilexi. elegi abjecta esse, in domo domino mei, jesu christi. quem vidi quem amavi, in quem credidi quem dilexi. gloria patri et filio et spiritui sancto. v. kyrie eleison. r. christi eleison. v. pater noster. v. etne nos inducas in tentationem. r. sed libera nos a malo. v. manda deus etc. r. confirma hoc deus quod operatus es in eis. v. salvas fac etc. r. deus meus sperantes in te. v. esto nobis etc. r. a facie inimici. v. nihil proficiat etc. v. et filius iniquitatis non apponat nocere nobis. v. ora pro nobis etc. r. ut dignae efficiantur promissionibus christi. v. domine exaudi etc. r. et clamor meus ad te veniat. v. dominus etc. r. et cum spiritu tuo. v. domine deus virtutem, converte nos. r. et ostende faciem tuam et salvi erimus. page - ---------- no. ceremony music etc. suscipe domine (st. ignatius) for two part chorus nicola a. montani lento suscipe domine, universam libertatem meam, accipe memoriam intellectum atque voluntatem omnem. quid quid habeo vel possideo mihi largitus es id tibi totum restituo, ac tuae prorsus voluntate trado gubernandum. amorem tui solum cum gratia tua mihi dones et dives sum satis nec aliud quid quam ultra poseo. page - ---------- no. ceremony music etc. conserva me domine psalm third tone . conserva me, domine, quoniam speravi in te. dixi domino: deus meus es tu, quoniam honorum meorum non eges. . sanctis, qui sunt in terra ejus, mirificavit omnes voluntates meas in ejus. . multiplicatae sunt infirmitates eorum postem accelleraverunt. . non congregabo conventicula eorum de sanguinibus. nec memor ero nominum eorum per labia mea. . dominus pars haereditatis meae, et calicis mei: tu es, qui restitues haereditatem meam mihi. . funes ceciderunt mihi in praeclaris, etenim haereditas mea praeclara est mihi. . benedicam dominum, qui tribuit mihi intellectum: insuper et usque ad noctem increpuerunt me renes mei. . providebam dominum in conspectu meo semper: quoniam adextris est mihi, ne commovear. . propter hoc laetatum est cor meum et exsultavit lingua mea: insuper et caro mea requiescet in spe. . quoniam non derelinques animam meam in inferno: nec dabis sanctum tuum videre corruptionem. . notas mihi fecisti vias vitae adimplebis me laetitia cum vultu tuo: delectationis in dextera tua usque infinem. . gloria patri et filio, et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. page - ---------- no. music for reception, vow day, etc. ecce quam bonum psalm for two part chorus nicola a. montani moderato . ecce quam bonum, et quam jucundum, habitare fratres in unam. . sicut unguentum in capite quod descendit in barbam, barbam aaron. . ecce quam bonum, et quam jucundum, habitare fratres in unam. . quod descendit in oram vestimenti ejus: sicut ros hermon, qui descendit in monte sion. . ecce quam bonum, et quam jucundum, habitare fratres in unam. . quoniam illic mandavit dominus benedictonem et vitam usque in saeculum. . ecce quam bonum, et quam jucundum, habitare fratres in unam. . gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto. . ecce quam bonum, et quam jucundum, habitare fratres in unam. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. . ecce quam bonum, et quam jucundum, habitare fratres in unam. page - ---------- no. ceremony music etc. quam dilecta tabernacula tua psalm seventh tone . quam dilecta tabernacula tua, domine virtutum! concupiscit, et deficit anima mea in atria domini. . cor meum et caro mea exsultaverunt in deum vivum. . etenim passer invenit sibi donum: et turtur nidum sibi, ut ponat pullos suos. . altaria tua, domine virtutum: rex meus, et deus meus. . beatus, qui habitant in domo tua, domine: in saecula saeculorum laudabunt me. . beatus vir, cujus est auxilium abs te: ascensiones in corde suo disposuit, in valle lacrimarum, in loco quem posuit. . etenim benedictionem dabit legislator ibunt de virtute in virtutem: videbitur deus deorem in sion. . domine, deus virtutum exaudi orationem meum: auribus percipe, deus jacob. . protector noster, aspice deus: et respice faciem christi tui. . quia melior est dies una in atriis tuis, super milia. . elegi agjectus esse in domo dei mei: magis quam habitare in tabernaculis peccatorum. . quia misericordiam et veritatem diligit deus: gratiam et gloriam dabit dominus. . non privabit bonis eos, qui ambulant in innocentia: domine virtutum, beatus homo, qui sperat in te. . gloria patri et filio, et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen page - ---------- no. ceremony music etc. quae est ista two part or unison chorus traditional italian chorale arr. by n. a. montani moderato quae est ista, quae est ista, quae ascendit de deserto; deliciis affluens enixa super dilectum suum? tota pulchra es, amica mea, suavis et decora. veni de libano sponsa mea veni de libano veni coronaberis. page - ---------- no. tu gloria jerusalem unison or four part chorus (for additional ceremony music see magnificat; hymns in honor of the blessed virgin, motets in honor of the bl. sacrament, te deum etc.) cesar franck adapted from the motet "quae est ista" andante religioso tu gloria jerusalem; tu laetitia israel; to honorificentia populi nostri. maria dominare nostri tu et filius tuus intercede ad dominum deum nostrum, intercede ad dominum deum nostrum, ad deum nostrum, ad dominum deum nostrum. page - ---------- music for forty hours' adoration musical programme at the exposition . mass, after which the blessed sacrament is incensed. .* procession during which the "pange lingua" is sung; after the procession the . "tantum ergo" is sung, and the blessed sacrament is incensed. the "panem de coelo, etc.," is omitted . the litany of the saints is chanted. . psalm lxix, "deus in adjutorium etc.," is intoned, then sung alternately by the clergy or choir, after which the celebrant, still kneeling, sings the versicles "salvos fac, etc." after the "domine, exaudi orationem meam" the celebrant rises and sings the prescribed orations. missa pro pace on the second day of the devotion the "missa pro pace" (mass for peace) is offered on a side altar, and the color of the vestments is violet, unless a feast of higher rank occurs prohibiting the use of this color. (see manual of forty hours' adoration pub. by ecclesiastical review, phila., pa.) at the exposition . mass, after which is sung the . litany with psalm lxix and the versicles "salvos fac, etc.," down to "dominus vobiscum" (exclusive,) after which the blessed sacrament is incensed. . * procession during which the "pange lingua" is sung. after the procession when the blessed sacrament has been placed on the altar, the . "tantum ergo" is sung, and at the "genitori" the blessed sacrament is incensed. the "panem de coelo" is intoned and the celebrant rises and sings the . orations; benediction follows. * in case the procession does not take place the "pange lingua" cannot be omitted. pange lingua; (see no. ) page ---------- no. the litany of the saints according to the vatican graduale sung on holy saturday, the rogation days, forty hours' adoration. * note: omitted on holy saturday. chanters kyrie eleison. christe eleison. kyrie eleison. christe audinos. christe exaudinos. pater de caelis deus, miserere nobis. fili redemptor mundi deus, miserere nobis. spiritus sancte deus, miserere nobis. sancta trinitas unus deus, miserere nobis. sancta maria, ora pro nobis. sancta dei genitrix, ora pro nobis. sancte michael, ora pro nobis. sancte gabriel, ora pro nobis. sancte raphael, ora pro nobis. omnes sancti angeli et archangeli, ora pro nobis. omnes sancti beatorum spiritum ordines , ora pro nobis. sancte joannes baptista, ora pro nobis. sancte joseph, ora pro nobis. omnes sancti patriarchae et prophetae, ora pro nobis. sancte petre, ora pro nobis. sancte paule, ora pro nobis. sancte andrea, ora pro nobis. * sancte jacobe, ora pro nobis. sancte joannes, ora pro nobis. * sancte thoma, ora pro nobis. * sancte jacobe, ora pro nobis. * sancte philippe, ora pro nobis. * sancte bartholomaee, ora pro nobis. * sancte mathaee, ora pro nobis. * sancte simon, ora pro nobis. * sancte thaddaee, ora pro nobis. * sancte mathia, ora pro nobis. * sancte barnaba, ora pro nobis. * sancte luca, ora pro nobis. * sancte marce, ora pro nobis. omnes sancti apostoli et evangelistae, orate pro nobis. omnes sancti discipuli dominum, orate pro nobis. * omnes sancti innocentes, orate pro nobis. sancte stephane, ora pro nobis. sancte laurenti, ora pro nobis. sancte vincenti, ora pro nobis. * sancti fabiane et sebastiane, orate pro nobis. * sancti joannes et paula, orate pro nobis. * sancti cosma et damiane, orate pro nobis. * gervasi et protasi, orate pro nobis. omnes sancti martyres, orate pro nobis. sancte silvester, ora pro nobis. sancte gregori, ora pro nobis. * sancte ambrosi, ora pro nobis. sancte augustine, ora pro nobis. * sancte hieronyme, ora pro nobis. * sancte martine, ora pro nobis. * sancte nicolae, ora pro nobis. omnes sancti pontifices et confessores, orate pro nobis. omnes sancti doctores, orate pro nobis. sancte antoni, ora pro nobis. sancte benedicte, ora pro nobis. * sancte bernarde, ora pro nobis. sancte dominice, ora pro nobis. sancte francisce, ora pro nobis. omnes sancti sacerdotes et levitae, orate pro nobis. omnes sancti monachi et eremitae, orate pro nobis. sancta maria magdalena, ora pro nobis. sancta agatha, ora pro nobis. * sancta lucia, ora pro nobis. sancta agnes, ora pro nobis. sancta caecilia, ora pro nobis. * sancta catharina, ora pro nobis. sancte anastasia, ora pro nobis. omnes sanctae virgines et viduae, orate pro nobis. omnes sancti et sanctae dei, intercedite pro nobis. propitius esto, parce nobis domine propitius esto, exaudi nos domine ab omni malo, libera nos domine ab omni peccato, libera nos domine. * ab ira tua, libera nos domine. * a subitanea et improvisa morte, libera nos domine. * ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos domine. * ab ira, et odio, et omni mala voluntate, libera nos domine. * a spiritu fornicationis, libera nos domine. * a fulgure et tempestate, libera nos domine. * a flagello terrae motus, libera nos domine. * a peste, fame, et bello, libera nos domine. a morte perpetua, libera nos domine. per mysterium sanctae incarnationis tuae, libera nos domine. per adventum tuum, libera nos domine. per nativitatem tuam, libera nos domine. per baptismum et sanctum jejunium tuum, libera nos domine. per crucem et passionem tuam, libera nos domine. per mortem et sepulturam tuam, libera nos domine. per admirabilem ascensionem tuam, libera nos domine. per adventum spiritus sancti paracliti, libera nos domine. in dic judicii, libera nos domine. peccatores, te rogamus audinos. ut nobis parcas, te rogamus audinos. * ut nobis indulgeas, te rogamus audinos. * ut ad veram paenitentiam nos perducere digneris, te rogamus audinos. ut ecclesiam tuam sanctam regere et conservare digneris, te rogamus audinos. ut domnum apostolicum et omnes ecclesiasticos ordines' in sancta religione conservare digneris, te rogamus audinos. ut inimicos sanctae eccesiae humilare digneris, te rogamus audinos. ut regibus et principibus christianis' pacem et veram concordiam donare digneris, te rogamus audinos. * ut cuncto populo christiano pacem et unitatem largiri digneris, te rogamus audinos. * ut omnes errantes ad unitatem eccesiae recovare, et infideles universos ad evangelii lumen perducere digneris, te rogamus audinos. ut nosmetipsos in tuo sancto servitio confortare et conservare digneris, te rogamus audinos. * ut mentes nostras ad coelestia desideria erigas, te rogamus audinos. ut omnibus benefactor ibus nostris sempiterna bona retribuas, te rogamus audinos. * ut animas nostras', fratrum, propinquorum et benefactorum nostrorum' ab aeterna damnatione eripias, te rogamus audinos. ut fructus terre dare et conservare digneris, te rogamus audinos. ut omnibus fidelibus defunctis requiem aeternam donare digneris, te rogamus audinos. ut nos exaudire digneris, te rogamus audinos. fili dei, te rogamus audinos. agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, parce nobis domine. agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, exaudinos domine. agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobs. christe audinos. christe exaudinos. on holy saturday the kyrie of the mass is begun at this point. forty hours etc. chanters proceed. kyrie eleison. christe eleison. kyrie eleison. pater noster. et ne nos inducas in tentationem. sed libera nos a malo. page - ---------- no. deus in adjutorium psalm (small notes ending for no. .) . deus in adjutorium meum intende: domine ad adjuvandum me festina. . confundantur retrosum, et erubescant, qui querunt animam meam. . avertantur retrosum, et erubescant, qui volunt mihi mala. . avertantur statim erubescentes, qui dicunt mihi: euge, euge. . exsultent et laetentur in te omnes qui querunt te: et dicant semper: magnificetur dominus: qui diligunt salutare tuum. . ego vero egenus et pauper sum: deus adjuva me. . adjutor meus et liberator meus es tu: domine ne moreris. . gloria patri et filio, et spiritui sancto, . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. responses cel. . salvos fac servos tuos, deus meus sperantes in te. all other responses end in the following manner except no. . v. esto nobis domine turris fortitudinis. r. a facie inimici. . v. nihil proficiat inimicus in nobis. r. et filius iniquitatis non apponat nocere nobis. . v. domine non secundum peccata nostra facias nobis. r. neque secundum iniquitates nostras retribuas nobis. . v. oremus pro pontifice nostro n. r. dominus conservet eum, et vivificet eum, + et beatum faciat eum in terra, * et non tradat eum in animam inimicorum ejus. . v. oremus pro benefactoribus nostris. r. retribuere dignare domine, + omnibus nobis bona facientibus, propter nomen tuum, * vitam aeternam. amen. . v. oremus pro fidelibus defunctis. r. requiem aeternam dona eis domine,* et lux perpetua luceat eis. . v. requiescant in pace. r. amen. . v. pro fratribus nostris absentibus. r. salvos fac servos tuos,* deus meus, sperantes in te. (see no. ) . v. mitte eis domine auxilium de sancto. r. et de sion tuere eos. . v. domine exaudi orationem meam. r. et clamor meus ad te veniat. . v, dominus vobiscum. r. et cum spiritu tuo. prayers . v. per omnia saecula saeculorum. r. amen. . v. dominus vobiscum. r. et cum spiritu tuo. . v. exaudiat nos omnipotens et misericors dominus. r. (et custodiat nos semper.) amen. . v. fidelium animae etc. r:. amen. page - - ---------- no. a the blessed sacrament motets for benediction o salutaris hostia (no. ) (verbum supernum prodiens) s. webbe ( - ) lento o salutaris hostia, quae coeli panis ostium: bella premunt hostilia, da robur, fer auxilium. uni trinoque domino sit sempiterna gloria, qui vitam sine termino nobis donet in patria. amen. page ---------- no. b o salutaris hostia (no. ) duguet ( ) moderato o salutaris hostia, quae coeli panis ostium: bella premunt hostilia, da robur, fer auxilium. uni trinoque domino sit sempiterna gloria, qui vitam sine termino nobis donet in patria. amen. page ---------- no. c o salutaris hostia (no. ) (verbum supernum prodiens) gregorian o salutaris hostia, quae coeli panis ostium: bella premunt hostilia, da robur, fer auxilium. uni trinoque domino sit sempiterna gloria, qui vitam sine termino nobis donet in patria. amen. page ---------- no. d o salutaris hostia (no. ) unison chorus j. rheinberger abridged and arr. by n. a. m. andante o salutaris hostia, quae coeli panis ostium: bella premunt hostilia, da robur, fer auxilium. uni trinoque domino sit sempiterna gloria, qui vitam sine termino nobis donet in patria. amen. page ---------- no. e o salutaris hostia (no. ) for three-part chorus (s.s.a or t.t.b.) balthasar florence arr. by n.a.m. andante religioso o salutaris hostia, quae coeli panis ostium: bella premunt hostilia, da robur, fer auxilium. uni trinoque domino sit sempiterna gloria, qui vitam sine termino nobis donet in patria. amen. page ---------- no. f o salutaris hostia (no. ) nicola a. montani moderato o salutaris hostia, quae coeli panis ostium: bella premunt hostilia, da robur, fer auxilium. uni trinoque domino sit sempiterna gloria, qui vitam sine termino nobis donet in patria. amen. page ---------- no. g o salutaris hostia (no. ) a. warner andante o salutaris hostia, quae coeli panis ostium: bella premunt hostilia, da robur, fer auxilium. uni trinoque domino sit sempiterna gloria, qui vitam sine termino nobis donet in patria. amen. page ---------- no. a adoro te devote (no. ) st thomas aquinas - gregorian fifth mode . adoro te devote, latens deitas, quae sub his figuris, vere latitas: tibi se cor meum totum subjicit, quia te contemplans totum deficit. . visus tactus gustus in te falitur, sed auditu solo tuto creditur: credo quidquid dixit dei filius: nil hoc veritatis verbo verius. . in cruce latebat sola deitas, ad hic latet simul et humanitas: ambo tamen credens, atque confitens, peto quod petivit latro paenitens. . plagas, sicut thomas, non intueor, deum tamen meum te confiteor: fac me tibi semper magis credere, in te spem habere, te diligere. . o memoriale mortis domini, panis vivus vitam praestans homini: praesta meae menti de te vivere, et te illi semper dulce sapere. . pie pelicane, jesu domine, me immundum munda tuo sanguine, cujus una stilla salvum facere totum mundum quid ab omni scelere. . jesu, quem velatum nunc adspicio, oro fiat illud quod tam sitio: ut, te revelata cernens facie, visu sim beatus tuae gloriae. amen. page - ---------- no. b adoro te devote (no. ) ch. gounod arr. by n. a. m. lento . adoro te devote, latens deitas, quae sub his figuris, vere latitas: tibi se cor meum totum subjicit, qui te contemplans totum deficit. . visus, tactus, gustus in te falitur, sed auditu solo tuto creditur: credo quidquid dixit dei filius: nil hoc veritatis verbo verius. . in cruce latebat sola deitas, ad hic latet simul et humanitas: ambo tamen credens, atque confitens, peto quod petivit latro paenitens. . plagas, sicut thomas, non intueor, deum tamen meum te confiteor: fac me tibi semper magis credere, in te spem habere, te diligere. . o memoriale mortis domini, panis vivus vitam praestans homini: praesta meae menti de te vivere, et te illi semper dulce sapere. . pie pelicane, jesu domine, me immundum munda tuo sanguine, cujus una stilla salvum facere totum mundum quid ab dulce sapere. . jesu, quem velatum nunc adspicio, oro fiat illud quod tam sitio: ut, te revelata cernens facie, visu sim beatus omni scelere. amen page ---------- no. a o esca viatorum (no. ) heinrich isaak ( - ) arr. by j. s. bach largo . o esca viatorum, o panis angelorum, o manna coelitum: esurientes ciba, dulce dine non priva, corda quaerentium. . o lympha, fons amoris, qui puro salvatoris e corde profluis; te sitientes pota, haec sola nostra vota, his una sufficis. . o jesu, tuum vultum, quem colimus occultum sub panis specie: fac ut, remoto velo, post, libera in coelo, cernamus acie. page ---------- no. b o esca viatorum (no. ) for unison or two-part chorus traditional melody arr. by p. j. van damme moderato . o esca viatorum, o panis angelorum, o manna coelitum: esurientes ciba, dulce dine non priva, corda quaerentium, corda quaerentium. . o lympha, fons amoris, qui puro salvatoris e corde profluis; te sitientes pota, haec sola nostra vota, his una sufficis, his una sufficis. . o jesu, tuum vultum, quem colimus occultum sub panis specie: fac ut, remoto velo, post, libera in coelo, cernamus acie, cernamus acie. page ---------- no. a panis angelicus (no. ) sacris solemniis moderato panis angelicus fit panis hominum; dat panis coelicus figuris terminum: o res mirabilis! manducat dominum pauper, servus, et humilis. te trina deitas unaque poscimus, sic nos tu visita, sicut te colimus; per tuas semitas duc nos quo tendimus, ad lucem quam inhabitas. amen. page ---------- no. b panis angelicus (no. ) unison, two or four-part chorus fr. lambilotte andante religioso panis angelicus fit panis hominum; dat panis coelicus figuris terminum: o res mirabilis! manducat dominum pauper, servus, et humilis. te trina deitas unaque poscimus, sic nos tu visita, sicut te colimus; per tuas semitas duc nos quo tendimus, ad lucem quam inhabitas. amen. page ---------- no. sacris solemniis (panis angelicus) for unison chorus j. mohr andante devota . sacris solemnis juncta sint gaudia, et ex praecordis sonent praeconia; recedant vetera, nova sint omnia, corda voces et opera. . noctis recolitur coena novissima, qua christus creditur agnum et azyma dedisse fratribus, juxta legitima priscis indulta patribus. . post agnum typicum, expletis epluis, corpus dominicum datum discipulis, sic totum omnibus, quod totum singulis, ejus fatemur manibus . dedit fragilibus corporis ferculum, dedit et tristibus sanguinis poculum, dicens: accipite, quod trado vasculum, omnes ex eo bibite. . sic sacrificium istud instituit, cujus officium committi voluit solis presbyteris, quibus sic congruit, ut sumant, et dent cereris. . panis angelicus fit panis hominum; dat panis coelicus figuris terminum: o res mirabilis! manducat dominum pauper, servus, et humilis. . te trina deitas unaque poscimus, sic nos tu visita, sicut te colimus; per tuas semitas duc nos quo tendimus, ad lucem quam inhabitas. amen. page - ---------- no. a ecce panis angelorum (no. ) lauda sion portuguese melody andante religioso . ecce panis angelorum, factus cibus viatorum: vere panis filiorum, non mittendus canibus. . in figuris praesignatur, cum isaac immolatur, agnus paschae deputatur, datur manna patribus. page ---------- no. b ecce panis angelorum (no. ) lauda sion vatican gradual . ecce panis angelorum, factus cibus viatorum: vere panis filiorum, non mittendus canibus. . in figuris praesignatur, cum isaac immolatur, agnus paschae deputatur, datur manna patribus. bone pastor . bone pastor, panis vere, jesu, nostri miserere: tu nos pasce, nos tuere, tu nos bona fac videre in terra viventium. . tu qui cuncta scis et vales, qui nos pascis hic mortales: tuos ibi commensales, coheredes et sodales fac sanctorum civium. amen. alleluia. page - ---------- no. adoramus te, panem coelitum for unison or two part chorus traditional melody harmonized by p. j. van damme andante adoramus te, panem coelitum, cibum vitae desursum praestitum. ave, ave, ave, coeli panis vine. laudetur in aeternum sanctissimum sacramentum. page ---------- no. a ave verum corpus (no. ) unison, two or four part chorus. ch. gounod liturgcally arranged by n. a. m. lento ave, ave verum corpus natum de maria virgine: vere passum, immolatum, immolatum in cruce pro homine, in cruce pro homine: cujus latus perforatum fluxit uqua et sanguine: esto nobis praegustatum mortis in examine. o jesu dulcis! o jesu pie! o jesu fili mariae, o jesu fili mariae! page - ---------- no. b ave verum corpus (no. ) unison, two or four part chorus c. st. saens liturgically arranged by n. a. m. andante religioso . ave, ave verum corpus natum de maria virgine: . vere passum, immolatum in cruce pro homine: . cujus latus perforatum fluxit aqua et sanguine. . esto nobis praegustatum mortis in examine: . o jesu dulcis! o jesu pie! o jesu, jesu fili mariae, file mariae. page ---------- no. c ave verum corpus (no. ) w. a. mozart arr. for unison or four part chorus by n. a. m. adagio ave, ave verum corpus natum de maria virgine: vere passum, immolatum in cruce, pro homine: cujus latus perforatum fluxit aqua et sanguine. esto nobis praegustatum mortis in examine. mortis, mortis in examine. page - ---------- no. d ave verum corpus (no. ) alex. guilmant adapted and arranged for unison, two or four part chorus by n. a. m. andante moderato ave, ave verum corpus natum de maria virgine: vere passum, immolatum in cruce pro homine: cujus latus perforatum fluxit aqua et sanguine. esto nobis praegustatum mortis in examine. o jesu dulcis! o jesu pie! o jesu dulcis! o jesu pie! o jesu fili mariae, fili mariae! page - ---------- no. e ave verum corpus (no. ) prosa antiqua usu recepta gregorian sixth mode . ave, ave verum corpus natum de maria virgine: . vere passum, immolatum in cruce pro homine: . cujus latus perforatum fluxit aqua et sanguine. . esto nobis praegustatum mortis in examine: . o jesu dulcis! . o jesu pie! . o jesu fili mariae. page ---------- no. o quam suavis est antiphon. (according to the vatican edition of the antiphonale.) sixth mode o quam suavis est, domine, spiritus tuus! qui, ut dulcedinem tuam in filios demonstrares, pane suavissimo de coelo praestito, esurientes reples bonis, fastidiosos divites dimittens inanes. page - ---------- no. o sacrum convivium motet r. remondi arr. for unison, two or four part chorus by n. a. m. adagio (con espressione) o sacrum convivium! in quo christus sumitur: recolitur memoria passionis ejus, passionis ejus: mens impletur gratia, mens impletur gratia: et futurae gloriae nobis pignus datur, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. page ---------- no. the sacred heart o cor jesu two part chorus don lorenzo perosi adagio o cor jesu flagrans amore nostri, o cor jesu flagrans amore nostri, inflamma cor nostrum amore tui, inflamma cor nostrum amore tui. page ---------- no. cor jesu, salus in te sperantium unison or two part chorus w. schultes ( - ) abridged and arr. by n. a. m. andante sostenuto cor jesu, salus in te sperantium, miserere nobis, cor jesu spes in te morientium, miserere nobis, cor jesu deliciae sanctorum omnium, miserere, miserere nobis, page ---------- no. a invocation to the sacred heart * cor jesu sacratissimum (no. ) gregorian first mode . cor jesu sacratissimum, miserere nobis. . cor mariae immaculatum, ora pro nobis. . sanctae joseph patronae dilectissime, ora pro nobis. ---------- no. b cor jesu sacratissimum (no. ) * gregorian fourth mode cor jesu sacratissimum, miserere nobis. * note: these invocations can be sung before each verse of the "laudate dominum" (first and fourth tones) in place of the "adoremus." (no. a-d) ---------- no. plea for god's mercy parce domine usually sung before the th psalm: miserere mei deus gregorian parce domine, parce populo tuo: ne in aeternum irascaris nobis. parce domine, parce populo tuo: ne in aeternum irascaris nobis. parce domine, parce populo tuo: ne in aeternum irascaris nobis. page ---------- no. the sacred heart, ss. cordis jesu cor, arca legem continens th century melody "alta trinita." . cor, arca legem continens non servitutis veteris, sed gratiae, sed veniae, sed et misericordiae. . cor sanctuarium novi intemeratum foederis, templum vetusto sanctius, velumque scissoutilius. . te vulneratum caritas, ictu patenti voluit, amoris invisibilis, ut veneremur vulnera. . hoc sub amoris symbolo passus cruenta et mystica, utrumque sacrificium christus sacerdos obtulit. . quis non amantem redamet? quis non redemptus diligat, et corde in isto seligat aeterna tabernacula? . decus parenti, et filio sanctoque sit spiritui, quibus potestas, gloria, regnumque in omne est saeculum. amen page ---------- no. a processions, benediction, hours' pange lingua (no. ) (tantum ergo) gregorian vatican graduale third mode . pange lingua gloriosi, corporis mysterium sanguinisque pretiosi, quem in mundi pretium fructus vetris generosi rex effudit gentium. . nobis datus, nobis natus ex intacta virgine, et in mundo conversatus, sparso verbi semine, sui moras incolatus miro clusit ordine. . in supremae nocte coenoe, recumbens cum fratribus, observata lege plene cibis in legalibus, cibum turbae duodenae se dat suis manibus. . verbum caro, panem verum verbo carnem efficit: fitque sanguis christi merum, et si sensus deficit, ad firmandum cor sincerum sola fides sufficit. . tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui. . genitori, genitoque laus et jubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit, et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. amen. page - ---------- no. b pange lingua (no. ) (tantum ergo) gregorian (apud italos usitatum) first mode . pange lingua gloriosi, corporis mysterium sanguinisque pretiosi, quem in mundi pretium fructus vetris generosi rex effudit gentium. . nobis datus, nobis natus ex intacta virgine, et in mundo conversatus, sparso verbi semine, sui moras incolatus miro clusit ordine. . in supremae nocte coenoe, recumbens cum fratribus, observata lege plene cibis in legalibus, cibum turbae duodenae se dat suis manibus. . verbum caro, panem verum verbo carnem efficit: fitque sanguis christi merum, et si sensus deficit, a firmandum cor sincerum sola fides sufficit. . tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui. . genitori, genitoque laus et jubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit, et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. amen. page - ---------- no. a tantum ergo (no. ) (the "pange lingua" may be sung to this and any of the melodies of the tantum ergo.) jos. h. beltjens abridged and arranged by n. a. m. andante moderato . tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui. . genitori, genitoque laus et jubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit, et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. amen. page ---------- no. b tantum ergo (no. ) arr. by n.a. m. traditional melody from ms. dated stonyhurst also epitome rit. trevir not too slow . tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui. . genitori, genitoque laus et jubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit, et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. amen. page ---------- no. c tantum ergo (no. ) for unison chorus or chorus in or parts balthasar florence arr. by n. a. m. moderato . tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui. . genitori, genitoque laus et jubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit, et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. amen. page ---------- no. d tantum ergo (no. ) choral o. ravanello moderato . tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui. . genitori, genitoque laus et jubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit, et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. amen. page ---------- no. e tantum ergo (no. ) unison or two part chorus w. a. smit andante religioso . tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui. . genitori, genitoque laus et jubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit, et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. amen. page ---------- no. f tantum ergo (no. ) m. haydn ( - ) moderato . tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui. . genitori, genitoque laus et jubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit, et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. amen. page ---------- no. g tantum ergo (no. ) melody from a slovak hymnal adapted by n. a. m. moderately fast . tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui. . genitori, genitoque laus et jubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit, et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. amen. page ---------- no. h tantum ergo (no. ) j. mohr moderato . tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui. . genitori, genitoque laus et jubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit, et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. amen. page ---------- no. i tantum ergo (no. ) unison or two part chorus th. dubois arr. by n. a. m. andante religioso . tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui. . genitori, genitoque laus et jubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit, et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. amen. page ---------- no. j tantum ergo (no. ) unison chorus nicola a. montani not too slow . tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cernui: et antiquum documentum novo cedat ritui praestet fides supplementum sensuum defectui. . genitori, genitoque laus et jubilatio, salus, honor, virtus quoque sit, et benedictio: procedenti ab utroque compar sit laudatio. amen. page ---------- no. a benediction adoremus: laudate dominum (no. ) psalm tones instead of the "adoremus" the invocation to the sacred heart or to the holy family (no. a-b) may be sung before the "laudate dominum." gregorian vatican antiphonale first psalm tone adoramus in aeternum sanctissimum sacramentum. . laudate dominum omnes gentes: laudate eum omnes populi. . quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus: et veritas domini manet it aeternum. . gloria patri, et filio: et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum. amen. page - ---------- no. b adoremus and laudate (no. ) second psalm tone adoramus in aeternum sanctissimum sacramentum. . laudate dominum omnes gentes: laudate eum omnes populi. . quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus: et veritas domini manet it aeternum. . gloria patri, et filio: et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum. amen. ---------- no. c adoremus and laudate (no. ) third psalm tone adoramus in aeternum sanctissimum sacramentum. . laudate dominum omnes gentes: laudate eum omnes populi. . quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus: et veritas domini manet it aeternum. . gloria patri, et filio: et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum. amen. page - ---------- no. d adoremus and laudate (no. ) fourth psalm tone adoramus in aeternum sanctissimum sacramentum. . laudate dominum omnes gentes: laudate eum omnes populi. . quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus: et veritas domini manet it aeternum. . gloria patri, et filio: et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum. amen. ---------- no. e adoremus and laudate (no. ) fifth psalm tone adoramus in aeternum sanctissimum sacramentum. . laudate dominum omnes gentes: laudate eum omnes populi. . quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus: et veritas domini manet it aeternum. . gloria patri, et filio: et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum. amen. page - ---------- no. f adoremus and laudate (no. ) sixth psalm tone adoramus in aeternum sanctissimum sacramentum. . laudate dominum omnes gentes: laudate eum omnes populi. . quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus: et veritas domini manet it aeternum. . gloria patri, et filio: et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum. amen. ---------- no. g adoremus and laudate (no. ) seventh psalm tone adoramus in aeternum sanctissimum sacramentum. . laudate dominum omnes gentes: laudate eum omnes populi. . quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus: et veritas domini manet it aeternum. . gloria patri, et filio: et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum. amen. page - ---------- no. h adoremus and laudate (no. ) eighth psalm tone adoramus in aeternum sanctissimum sacramentum. . laudate dominum omnes gentes: laudate eum omnes populi. . quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus: et veritas domini manet it aeternum. . gloria patri, et filio: et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum. amen. ---------- no. i adoremus and laudate (no. ) arr. by n. a. m. moderato adoramus in aeternum sanctissimum sacramentum. . laudate dominum omnes gentes: laudate eum omnes populi. . quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus: et veritas domini manet it aeternum. . gloria patri, et filio: et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum. amen. page - ---------- no. pontifical ceremonies: confirmation, etc. sacerdos et pontifex sung at the entrance of the bishop, archbishop or cardinal ("ecce sacerdos" may be sung instead if preferred. ) gregorian antiphon-first mode sacerdos et pontifex, et virtutum opifex, pastor bone in populo, sic placuisti domino. responses v. protector noster --- etc. r. et respice in faciem christi tui. v. salvum fac --- etc. r. deus meus sperantem in te. v. mitte ei domine --- etc. r. et de sion tuere eum. v. nihil proficat -- etc. r. et filius iniquitatis non opponat nocere ei. v. domine exaudi --- etc. r. et clamor meus ad te veniat. v. dominus vobiscum. r. et cum spiritu tuo. (oremus etc.) amen. note: during the confirmation, choir may sing appropriate hymns: veni sancte spiritus, veni creator, magnificat, etc. after the recitation of the creed, "the lord's prayer" and "hail mary" english hymns may be sung. page ---------- no. confirma hoc deus (sung after confirmation, at the washing of hands) j. rheinberger arr. by n. a. m. lento confirma hoc deus, quod operatus es in nobis, a tempo sancto tuo quod est in jerusalem. gloria patri, et filio: et spiritui sancto sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum. amen. responses v. ostende nobis, etc. r. et salutare tuum da nobis. v. domine exaudi, etc. r. et clamor meus ad te veniat. v. dominus vobiscum r. et cum spiritu tuo. ceremonies may terminate with singing of "te deum" (no. ) for the responses, at the pontifical blessing see no. -( ) page ---------- no. ecce sacerdos stadler arr. for unison or four part chorus by n. a. m. allegro maestoso ecce sacerdos magnus, qui in diebus suis placuit deo: ideo jurejurando fecit illum dominus crescere in plebem suam. benedictionem omnium gentium dedit illi, et testamentum suum confirmavit super caput ejus. gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto. ideo jurejurando fecit illum dominus crescere in plebem suam. page - ---------- no. for the pope oremus pro pontifice unison two or four part chorus fr. schubert arr. by n. a. m. andante (alla breve) oremus pro pontifice nostro benedicte; dominus conservet eum, et vivificet eum, et beatum faciat eum in terra, et non tradat eum in animam inimicorum ejus. v. fiat manus tua super virum dexterae tuae. r. et super filium hominis quem confirmasti tibi. page ---------- no. christus vincit, christus regnat ancient french melody arr. by n. a. m. maestoso christus vincit, christus regnat, christus imperat. this melody dates from the year . it was sung at the closing of the council called by order of william the conqueror. gregory vii was pope and philip i king of france. to this day, in the cathedral of rouen it is customary to render this chant on all solemn pontifical feasts. page ---------- no. the holy souls: requiems languentibus in purgatorio solesmes chant sixth mode . languentibus in purgatorio, qui purgantur ardore nimio, et torquentur gravi supplicio, subveniat tua compassio: o maria. . fons est patens qui culpas abluis, omnes juvas et nullum respuis: manum tuam extende mortuis, qui sub poenis lanquent continuis: o maria. . ad te pie suspirant mortui, cupientes de poenis erui, et ad esse tuo conspectui, aeternisque gaudiis perfrui: o maria. . et cum fiet stricta discussio, in tremendo dei judicio, judicanti supplica filio, ut cum sanctis sit nobis portio: o maria. amen. page ---------- no. beati mortui motet for two or four part chorus ch. gounod. op. arr. by n. a. m. lento beati mortui in domino morientes, beati mortui in domino morientes, beati mortui in domino morientes deinceps. dicit enim spiritus, spiritus ut requiescant a laboribus suis et opera illorum, et opera illorum sequuntar illos. beati mortui in domino morientes, beati mortui in domino morientes, beati mortui in domino morientes deinceps. page ---------- no. the holy souls benedictus dominus deus israel ego sum vatican antiphonale antiphon second mode ergo dum resurrectio et vita: qui credit in me, etiam si mortuus fuerit, vivet: et omnis qui vivet et credit in me, non morietur in aeternum. . benedictus dominus deus israel: quia visitavit, et fecit redemtionem plebis suae. . et erexit cornu salutis nobis, in domo david pueri sui: . sicut locutus est per os sanctorum, qui a saeculo sunt, prophetarum ejus: . salutem ex inimicis nostris, et de manu omnium qui oderunt nos: . ad faciendam misericordiam cum patribus nostris: et memorari testamenti sui sancti. . jusjurandum, quod juravit ad abraham patrem nostrum, daturum se nobis: . ut sine timore, de manu inimicorum nostrorum liberati, serviamus illi: . in sanctitate et justitia coram ipso, omnibus diebus nostris. . et tu puer, propheta altissimi vocaberis: praeibis enim ante faciem domini parare vias ejus: . ad dandam scientiam salutis plebi ejus: in remissionem peccatorum eorum: . per viscera misericordiae dei nostris: in quibus visitavit nos, oriens ex alto: . illuminare his qui in tenebris et in umbra mortis sedent: ad dirigendos pedes nostros in viam pacis. . requiem aeternam dona eis domine. : et lux perpetua, luceat eis. ergo dum resurrectio et vita: qui credit in me, etiam si mortuus fuerit, vivet: et omnis qui vivet et credit in me, non morietur in aeternum. page - - ---------- no. the holy souls officium defunctorum lent and holy week, etc. miserere mei deus psalm vatican antiphonale first mode (first portion is sung before the psalm) (the entire antiphon is sung at the end of psalm) exsultabunt domino ossa humiliata. first psalm tone . miserere mei deus, secundum magnam misericordiam tuam. . et secundum multitudinem miserationem tuarum, dele iniquitatem mea. . amplius lava me ab iniquitate mea: et a peccato meo munda me. . quoniam iniquitatem meam ego cognosco: et peccatum meum contra me est semper. . tibi soli peccavi, et malum coram te feci: ut justificeris in sermonibus tuis, et vincas cum judicaris. . ecce enim in iniquitatibis conceptus sum: et in peccatis concepit me mater mea. . ecce enim veritatem dilexisti: incerta et occulta sapientiae tuae manifestasti mihi. . asperges me hyssopo, et mundabor: lavabis me, et super nivem dealbabor. . auditui meo dabis gaudium et laetitiam: et exsultabunt ossa humiliata. . averte faciem tuam a peccatis meis: et omnes iniquitates meas dele. . cor mundum crea in me deus: et spiritum rectum innova in visceribus meis. . ne projicias me a facie tua: et spiritum sanctum tuum ne auferas a me. . redde mihi laetitiam salutaris tui: et spiritu principali confirma me. . docebo iniquos vias tuas: et impii ad te convertentur. . libera me de sanguinibus deus, deus salutis meae: et exsultabit lingua mea justitiam tuam. . domine, labia mea aperies: et os meum annuntiabit laudem tuam. . quoniam si voluisses sacrificium, dedissem utique: holocaustis non delectaberis. . sacrificium deo spiritus contribulatus: cor contritum et humiliatum deus non despicies. . benigne fac domine in bona voluntate tua sion: ut aedificentur muri jerusalem. . tunc acceptabis sacrificium justitiae, oblationes et holacausta: tunc imponent super altare tuum vitulos. . requiem aeternum dona eis domine. . et lux perpetua luceat eis. page - ---------- no. the holy souls pro defunctis miserere illi deus arr. by n. a. m. first mode adagio miserere, miserere, miserere illi deus, tu jesu christe domine veniam ei concede. . qui regnas in perpetuum, trinus et unus dominus, defuncti hujus animam de inferno tu libera. . tu vera, sancta trinitas, et unas in substantia, defuncti hujus animam cum electis agglomera. . o pia dei genitrix, maria mater virginum, intercede piissima pro hoc defuncto famulo. . tu michael archangel, continuatis precibus adesto nunc propitius pro hoc defuncto famulo. . inter chorus coelestium, inter catervas martyrum, resurgat hic in gloria ovans ad christi dexteram. miserere, miserere, miserere illi deus, tu jesu christe domine veniam ei concede. page - ---------- no. motets for festival occasions laudate dominum unison, two or four part chorus fr. schubert arr. by n. a. m. allegro moderato laudate dominum, laudate dominum, omnes gentes: laudate, laudate eum omnes populi. quoniam confirmata est super nos misericordia ejus; et veritas domini manet in aeternum. gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto, gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto, sicut erat in principio et nunc, et semper, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. page - - ---------- no. jubilate deo motet for two or four part chorus w. a. mozart edited and arr. by n. a. m. allegro jubilate deo omnis terra, servite, servite domino, domino in laetitia, in laetitia. laudate nomen ejus, laudate nomen ejus: quoniam suavis est dominus, est dominus. alleluia, alleluia. page - ---------- no. general o bone jesu! motet g. p. da palestrina andante o bone jesu! miserere nobis: quia tu creasti nos, tu redemisti nos sanguine tuo pretiosissimo. page ---------- no. sunday at high mass asperges me for unison, two or four part chorus sung each sunday before high mass from trinity sunday to palm sunday inclusive. nicola. a. montani celebrant asperges me. choir domine, hyssopo, et mundabor: lavabis me, et super nivem dealbabor. miserere mei, deus, secundum magnam misericordiam tuam. * gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto, sicut erat in principio et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. asperges me. * note: on passion sunday and palm sunday the "gloria patri" etc. is omitted and repition is made from the beginning "asperges" to fine. responses cel. . ostende nobis domine misericordiam tuam. (alleluia.) . domine exaudi orationem meam. . dominus vobiscum. choir. . et salutare tuum da nobis. (alleluia.) . et clamor meus ad te veniat. . et cum spiritu tuo. . amen. page - - ---------- no. sunday at high mass vidi aquam for unison, two part or four part chorus sung before high mass on sundays from easter to pentecost inclusive. nicola a. montani allegro moderato celebrant vidi aquam choir egredientem de templo, a latere dextro, alleluia, alleluia; et omnes, ad quos pervenit aqua ista, salvi facti sunt, et dicent, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia. confitemini domino quoniam bonus: quoniam in saeculum misericordia ejus. gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto, sicut erat in principio et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. for responses see no. (eastertide) page - - ---------- no. high mass, requiems, benediction vespers, pontifical blessing, etc. responses note: it is not permissible (according to the decrees of the congregation of rites), to accompany the celebrant on the organ at the orations, preface, or pater noster etc. the laudable custom of not accompanying the choir for the responses is also being generally observed. the key of a flat here given, is suggested as being best suited to all voices. . cel: v. dominus vobiscum choir: r. et cum spiritu tuo. . at ending of prayers sung in recto tono cel: v. per omnia saecula saeculorum. choir: r. amen. when prayers are sung with the following ending choir responds with the "amen" as indicated below. . cel.: v. per omnia saecula saeculorum. cel.: v. per christum dominum nostrum. r. amen. note: after the epistle it has been (incorrectly) the custom in certain churches for the choir to sing "deo gratias". this response (as well as the "laus tibi christi" after the gospel) is for the ministers of the mass, or acolytes only, and has never been included in the graduale and the official books in the notation of the parts to be sung by the choir. see "ecclesiastical review," (philadelphia, pa., nov., , page .) . at the gospel cel: v. dominus vobiscum choir: r. et cum spiritu tuo. cel.: v. sequentia sancti evangelii secundum matthaeum. choir: r. gloria tibi domine. . at the preface. solemn tone. sundays, holy days, etc. cel.: per omnia saecula saeculorum. choir: r. amen. cel: v. dominus vobiscum choir: r. et cum spiritu tuo. cel.: v. sursum corda. choir: habemus ad dominum. cel.: v. gratias agamus domino deo nostro. choir: r. dignum et justum est. . at the pater noster "per omnia" etc. as at no. . at the conclusion of the "pater noster:" cel.: et ne nos inducas in tentationem. choir: sed libera nos a malo. . before the "agnus dei:" "per omnia" etc. as at no. . cel v. pax domini sit semper vobiscum. choir: et cum spiritu tuo. . for requiems etc. (tonus ferialis) at the preface "per omnia" etc. (no. ) cel.: v. dominus vobiscum. choir: r. et cum spiritu tuo. cel.: v. sursum corda. choir: habemus ad dominum. cel.: v. gratias agamus domino deo nostro. choir: r. dignum et justum est. . at the end of requiem mass. choir: requiescant in pace. amen. . at the absolution = after the "libera" st chorus (tutti) kyrie eleison d chorus christe eleison st and d chorus (tutti) kyrie eleison cel: v. et ne nos inducas in tentationem. choir: r. sed libera nos a malo. cel. (a) v. a porta inferi. r. erue domine animam ejus. (animas eorum) (b) v. requiescat in pace. r. amen (c) v. domine exaudi orationem meam. r. et clamor meus ad te veniat. (d) v. requiem aeternam dona ei (eis) domine. r. et lux perpetua luceat ei (eis). (e) v. requiescat (no. ) r. amen. pontifical ceremonies . at the pontifical blessing (a) v. sit nomen domini benedictum. r. ex hoc nunc et usque in saeculum. (b) adjutorium nostrum in nomine domini. r. qui fecit caelum et terram. (c) benedicat vos omnipotens deus: pater, et filius, et spiritus sanctus. r. amen. benediction benediction of the blessed sacrament chanters: v. panem de coelo praestitisti eis. (alleluia.) choir. r. omne delectamentum in se habentem. (alleluia.) responses at the end of mass = toni "ite missa est" a) from holy saturday to low sunday (exclusive) eight mode deo gratias, alleluia, alleluia. b) from low sunday to the saturday after pentecost (inclusive) seventh mode deo gratias. c) for solemn feasts fifth mode deo gratias. d) for doubles (no. ) first mode deo gratias. e) (de angelis) doubles fifth mode xv. s. deo gratias. f) feasts of the blessed virgin mary first mode xii. s. deo gratias. g) for the sundays of the year (orbis factor) first mode x. s. deo gratias h) sundays in advent and lent first mode x. s. deo gratias page - - - - - - - ---------- no. vesper hymn lucis creator optime nicolaus decius - moderato . lucis creator optime, lucem dierum proferens, primordiis lucis novae mundi parans originem: . qui mane junctum vesperi diem vocari praecipis: illabitur tetrum chaos, audi preces cum fletibus. . ne mens gravata crimine, vitae sit exsul munere, dum nil perenne cogitat, seseque culpis illigat. . coeleste pulset ostium: vitale tollat praemium: vite mus omne noxium, purgemus omne pessimum. . praesta, pater piissime, patrique compar unice, cum spiritu paraclito, regnans per omne saeculum. amen. page ---------- no. compline te lucis ante terminum ad completorium severus gastorius (d. ) moderately fast . te, lucis ante terminum, rerum creator, poscimus, ut pro tua clementia, sis praesul et custodia. . procul recedant somnia, et noctium phantasmata; hostemque nostrum comprime, ne polluantur corpora. . praesta, pater piissime, patrique compar unice, cum spiritu paraclito, regnans per omne saeculum. amen. (tempore paschal, in dominicis et in festis) . deo patri sit gloria, et filio, quia mortuis surrexit, ac paraclito, in sempiterna saecula. amen. (in festis corporis christi et b. mariae virginis) . jesu, tibi sit gloria, qui natus es de virgine, cum patre et almo spiritu, in sempiterna saecula. amen. page ---------- no. compline nunc dimittis officium parvum b. m. v. canticum simeonis vatican antiphonale (for antiphon "sub tuum" see no. ) seventh tone . nunc dimittis servum tuum domine, secundum verbum tuum in pace. . quia viderunt oculi mei, salutare tuum. . quod parasti, ante faciem omnium populorum. . lumen ad revelationem gentium, et gloriam plebis tuae israel. . gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto, . sicut erat in principio et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. page - ---------- no. compline in manus tuas domine responsorium breve vatican antiphonale per annum sixth mode in manus tuas domine, commendo spiritum meum. in manus tuas domine, commendo spiritum meum. v. redemisti nos domine, deus veritatis. commendo spiritum meum. v. gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto, in manus tuas domine, commendo spiritum meum. v. custodi nos domine ut pupillam oculi. choir: sub umbra alarum tuarum protege nos. page ---------- no. pro gratiarum actione te deum laudamus juxta morem romanum vatican graduale harmonized by n. a. m. third mode celebrant . te deum laudamus chorus te dominum confitemur. chorus (in alternate sections) . te aeternum patrem omnis terra veneratur. . tibi omnes angeli, tibi coeli et universae potestates: . tibi cherubim et seraphim incessabili voce proclamant: . sanctus: . sanctus: . sanctus dominus deus sabaoth. . pleni sunt coeli et terra majestatis gloriae tuae. . te gloriosus apostolorum chorus: . te prophetarum laudabilis numerus: . te martyrum candidatus laudat exercitus. . te per orbem terrarum sancta confitetur ecclesia. . patrem immensae majstatis: . venerandum tuum verum, et unicum filium.: . sanctum quoque paraclitum spiritum. . tu rex gloriae, christe. tu patris sempiternus es filius. . tu ad liberandum suscepturus hominem, non horruisti virginis uterum. . tu devicto mortis aculeo aperuisti credentibus regna coelorum. . tu ad dexteram dei sedes in gloria patris. . judex crederis esse venturus. all kneel here . te ergo quaesumus, tuis famulis subveni, quos pretioso sanguine redemisti. . aeterna fac cum sanctis tuis in gloria numerari. . salvum fac populum tuum domine, et benedic haereditati tuae. . et rege eos, et extolle illos usque in aeternum. . per singulos dies, benedicimus te. . et laudamus nomen tuum in saeculum, et in saeculum saeculi. . dignare domine die isto sine peccato nos custodire. . miserere nostri domine, miserere nostri. . fiat misericordia tua domine super nos, quemadmodum speravimus in te. . in te domine speravi: non confundar in aeternum. responses cel. v. benedicamus patrem et filium cum sancto spiritu. choir. r. laudemus et superexaltemus eum in saecula. cel. v. benedictus es domine, in firmamento coeli. choir. r. et laudabilis, et gloriosus, et superexaltatus in saecula. cel. v. domine exaudi orationem meam. choir. r. et clamor meus ad te veniat. cel. v. dominus vobiscum. choir. r. et cum spiritu tuo. page - - - - - ---------- no. in festis b. mariae virginis mass of the blessed virgin mary cum jubilo no. ix kyrie xii century from the vatican graduale harmonized by n. a. montani first mode (transposed) with devotion but also with animation kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. christe eleison. christe eleison. christe eleison. kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. page - ---------- no. gloria xi century melody seventh mode (transposed) [optional key] celebrant gloria in excelsis deo. choir et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis. laudamus te. benedicimus te. adoramus te. glorificamus te. gratias agimus tibi, propter magnam gloriam tuam. domine deus, rex coelestis, deus pater omnipotens. domine fili unigenite jesu christe. domine deus, agnus dei, filius patris. qui tollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis. qui tollis peccata mundi: suscipe deprecationem nostram. qui sedes as dexteram patris, miserere nobis. quoniam to solus sanctus. to solus dominus. tu solus altissimus, jesu christe. cum sancto spiritu, in gloria dei patris. amen. page - - - ---------- no. credo no. xv century first mode celebrant credo in unum deum. choir patrem omnipotentem factorem coeli et terrae, visibilium omnium, et in invisibilium. et in unum dominum jesum christum, filium dei unigenitum. et ex patre natum ante omnia saecula. deum de deo, lumen de lumine, deum verum de deo vero. genitum, non factum, consubstantialem patri: per quem omnia facta sunt. qui propter nos homines, et propter nostram salutem descendit de coelis. et incarnatus est de spiritu sancto ex maria virgine: et homo factus est. crucifixus etiam pro nobis: sub pontio pilato passus et sepultus est. et resurrexit tertia die secundum scripturas. et ascendit in coelum: sedat ad dexteram patris. et iterum venturus est cum gloria, judicare vivos et mortuos: cujus regni non erit finis. et in spiritum sanctum, dominum, et vivificantem: qui ex patre filioque procedit. qui cum patre et filio simul adoratur, et con glorificatur: qui locutus est per prophetas. et unam, sanctum catholicam et apostolicam ecclesiam. confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum. et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum. et vitam venturi saeculi. amen. page - - - - - - ---------- no. sanctus and benedictus xiv century fifth mode sanctus, sanctus, sanctus dominus deus sabaoth. pleni sunt coeli et terra gloria tua. hosanna in excelsis. benedictus qui venit in nomine domini. hosanna in excelsis. page ---------- no. agnus dei (x) xiii century fifth mode chanters or solo agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis. agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis. agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: dona nobis pacem. for "deo gratias" see "responses" no. . page ---------- no. the requiem mass missa pro defunctis introit from the vatican edition of the graduale transcribed by n. a. montani sixth mode chanters tutti requiem aeternam dona eis domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis. te decet hymnus deus in sion, et tibi reddetur votum in jerusalem: exaudi orationem meam, ad te omnis car veniet. requiem aeternam dona eis domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis. kyrie sixth mode kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. christe eleison. christe eleison. christe eleison. kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. page ---------- graduale second mode requiem aeternam dona eis domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis. in memoria aeterna erit justus: ab auditione mala non timebit. (note) instead of the chant, if preferred, the "graduale" and "tractus" may be sung "recto tono": (text sung on one note) the organ giving a series of simple chords appropriately adjusted to the reciting tone. page ---------- tractus eighth mode absolve, domine, animas omnium fidelium defunctorum ab omni vinculo delictorum. v. et gratia tua illis succorrente, mereantur evadere judicium ultionis. v. et lucis aeternae beatitudine perfrui. page ---------- sequence dies irae first mode . die irae, dies illa, solvet saeclum in favilla: teste david cum sibylla. . quantus tremor est futurus, quando judex et venturus, cuncta stricte discussurus! . tuba mirum spargens sonum per sepulcra regionum, coget omnes ante thronum. . mors stupebit et natura, cum resurget creatura, judicanti responsura. . liber scriptus proferetur, in quo totum continetur, unde mundus judicetur . judex ergo cum sedebit, quidquid latet apparebit: nil inultum remanebit. . quid sum miser tunc dicturus? quem patronem rogaturus? cum vix justus sit securus. . rex tremendae majestatis, qui salvan dos salvas gratis, salva me fons pietatis. . recordare jesu pie, quod sum causa tuae viae: ne me perdas illa die. . quaerens me, sedisti lassus: redemisti crucem passus: tantus labor non sit casus. . juste judex ultionis, donum fac remissionis; ante diem rationis. . ingemisco, tamquam reus: culpa rubet vultus meus: supplicanti parce deus. . qui mariam absolvisti, et latronem exaudisti, mihi quoque spem dedisti. . preces meae non sunt dignae: sed tu bonus fac benigne, ne perenni cremer igne. . inter oves locum praesta, et ab hoedis me sequestra, statuens in parte dextra. . confutatis maledictis, flammis acribus addictis: voca me cum benedictis. . oro supplex et acclinis, cor contritum quasi cinis: gere curam mei finis. . lacrimosa dies illa, qua resurget ex favilla. . judicandus homo reus: huic ergo parce deus. . pie jesu domine, dona eis requiem. amen. page - - ---------- offertory domine jesu christe second mode domine jesu christe, rex gloriae, libera animas omnium fidelium defunctorum de poenis inferni, et de profundo lacu: libera eas de ore leonis, ne absorbeat eas tartarus, ne cadant in obscurum: sed signifer sanctus michael repraesentet eas in lumen sanctam: quam olim abrahae promisisti, et semini ejus. v. hostias et preces tibi domine laudis offerimus: tu suscipe pro animabus illis, quarum hodie memoriam facimus: fac eas, domine, de morte transire advitam. quam olim abrahae promisisti, et semini ejus. for requiem responses see no. = ( - - ) ---------- sanctus and benedictus sanctus, sanctus, sanctus dominus deus sabaoth. pleni sunt coeli et terra gloria tua. hosanna in excelsis. benedictus qui venit in nomine domini. hosanna in excelsis. ---------- agnus dei agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis. agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis. agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: dona nobis pacem. page - - ---------- communion eighth mode lux aeterna luceat eis, domine: cum sanctis tuis in aeternum, quia pius es. v. requiem aeternam dona eis domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. cum sanctis tuis in aeternum, quia pius es. ---------- absolution libera me domine responsorium. first mode libera me, domine, de morte aeterna, in die illa tremenda: quando coeli movendi sunt et terra dum veneris judicare saeculum perignem. v. tremens factus sum ego et timeo, dum discussio venerit, atque ventura ira. quando coeli movendi sunt et terra. dies illa, dies irae, calamitas et miseriae, dies magna et amara valde. dum veneris judicare saeculum perignem. v. requiem aeternam dona eis domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis. libera me, domine, de morte aeterna, in die illa tremenda: quando coeli movendi sunt et terra dum veneris judicare saeculum perignem. for responses see no. ( ) page - ---------- no. the mass of the angels (missa de angelis) (viii in festis duplicibus ) with credo no. kyrie vatican gradule transcribed by n. a. montani xv-xvi century moderately fast kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. christe eleison. christe eleison. christe eleison. kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. page ---------- no. gloria xvi century melody fifth mode to obtain contrast and observe the traditional antiphonal manner of rendition it is suggested that the choir be divided; one section singing the portions indicated by ( ) the other the portions designated ( ). celebrant gloria in excelsis deo. choir ( ) et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis. ( ) laudamus te. ( ) benedicimus te. ( ) adoramus te. ( ) glorificamus te. ( ) gratias agimus tibi, propter magnam gloriam tuam. ( ) domine deus, rex coelestis, deus pater omnipotens. ( ) domine fili unigenite jesu christe. ( ) domine deus, agnus dei, filius patris. ( ) qui tollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis. ( ) qui tollis peccata mundi: suscipe deprecationem nostram. ( ) qui sedes as dexteram patris, miserere nobis. ( ) quoniam to solus sanctus. ( ) to solus dominus. ( ) tu solus altissimus, jesu christe. tutti cum sancto spiritu, in gloria dei patris. amen. page ---------- no. credo iii (de angelis xvii century melody) celebrant credo in unum deum. choir ( ) patrem omnipotentem factorem coeli et terrae, visibilium omnium, et in invisibilium. ( ) et in unum dominum jusum christum, filium dei unigenitum. ( ) et ex patre natum ante omnia saecula. ( ) deum de deo, lumen de lumine, deum verum de deo vero. ( ) genitum, non factum, consubstantialem patri: per quem omnia facta sunt. ( ) qui propter nos homines, et propter nostram salutem descendit de coelis. ( ) et incarnatus est de spiritu sancto ex maria virgine: et homo factus est. ( ) crucifixus etiam pro nobis: sub pontio pilato passus et sepultus est. ( ) et resurrexit tertia die secundum scripturas. ( ) et ascendit in coelum: sedat ad dexteram patris. ( ) et iterum venturus est cum gloria, judicare vivos et mortuos: cujus regni non erit finis. ( ) et in spiritum sanctum, dominum, et vivificantem: qui ex patre filioque procedit. ( ) qui cum patre et filio simul adoratur, et con glorificatur: qui locutus est per prophetas. ( ) et unam, sanctum catholicam et apostolicam ecclesiam. ( ) confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum. ( ) et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum. ( ) et vitam venturi saeculi. (tutti) amen. page - - - ---------- no. sanctus and benedictus xi century sixth mode ( ) sanctus, ( ) sanctus, ( ) sanctus dominus deus sabaoth. ( ) pleni sunt coeli et terra gloria tua. ( - ) hosanna in excelsis. (soli) benedictus qui venit in nomine domini. ( - ) hosanna in excelsis. page ---------- no. agnus dei xv century sixth mode agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis. agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis. agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: dona nobis pacem. for "ite missa est" and "deo gratias" see no. . -e page ---------- no. vespers in honor of the blessed virgin mary (can be sung in place of the proper vespers of the day) from the vatican antiphonale transcribed by n. a. m. celebrant deus in adjutorium meus intende. choir domine ad adjuvandum me festina. gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto. sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. alleluia. from septuagesima to easter the following is sung instead of the alleluia. laus tibi domine rex aeternae gloriae. page ---------- first antiphon and psalm third tone (a ending) chanter dum esset rex choir in accubitu suo, nardus mea dedit odorem suavitatis. alleluia. dixit dominus (psalm ) . dixit dominus, domino meo: sede a dextris meis: . donec ponam inimicos tuos, scabellum pedum tuorum. . virgam virtutis tuae emitte dominus ex sion: dominare in medio inimicorum tuorem. . tecum principium in die virtutis tuae in splendoribus sanctorum: ex utero ante luciferum genui te. . juravit dominus, et non paenitebit eum: tu es sacerdos in aeternum secundum ordinem melchisedech. . dominus a dextris tuis, confregit in die irae suae reges. . judicabit in nationibus, implebit ruinas: conquassabit capita in terra multorum. . de torrente in via bibet: propterea exalta bit caput. . gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. dum esset rex in accubitu suo, nardus mea dedit odorem suavitatis. alleluia. page - ---------- second antiphon and psalm fourth tone (a) laeva ejus sub capite meo, et dextera illius amplexabitur me. alleluia. ---------- laudate pueri (psalm ) . laudate pueri dominum: laudate nomen domini. . sit nomen domini benedictum, ex hoc nunc, et usque in saeculum. . a solis ortu usque ad occasum, laudabile nomen domini. . excelsus super omnes gentes dominus, et super coelos gloria ejus. . quis sicut dominus deus noster, qui in altis habitat, et humilia respicit in coelo et in terra. . suscitans a terra inopem, et de stercore erigens pauperem: . ut collocet eum cum principibus, cum principibus populi sui. . qui habitare facit sterilem in domo, matrem fili orum laetantem. . gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. page - ---------- third antiphon and psalm third tone (b) chanter nigra sum sed formosa, choir filiae jerusalem: ideo dilexit me rex, et introduxit me in cubiculum suum. alleluia. ---------- laetatus sum (psalm ) . laetatus sum in his quae dicta sunt mihi: in domum domini ibimus. . stantes erant pedes nostri, in atriis tuis jerusalem. . jerusalem, quae aedificatur ut civitas: cujus participatio ejus in idipsum. . illuc enim ascenderunt tribus, tribus domini: testimonium israel ad confitendum nomini domini. . quia illic sederunt sedes in judicio, sedes super domum david. . rogate quae ad pacem sunt jerusalem: et abundantia diligentibus te: . fiat pax in virtute tua: et abundantia in turribus tuis. . propter fratres meos et proximos meos, loquebar pacem de te: . propter domum domini dei nostri, quaesivi bona tibi. . gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. nigra sum sed formosa, filiae jerusalem: ideo dilexit me rex, et introduxit me in cubiculum suum. alleluia. page ---------- fourth antiphon and psalm eighth tone (g) chanter jam himes transiit, choir imber abiit et recessit: surge amica mea, et veni. alleluia. ---------- nisi dominus (psalm ) . nisi dominus aedificaverit domum, in vanum laboraverunt qui aedificant eam. . nisi dominus custodierit civitatem, frustra vigilat qui custodit eam. . vanum est vobis ante lucem surgere: surgite postquam sederitis, qui manducatis panem doloris. . cum dederit dilectis suis somnum: . sicut sagittae in manu potentis: ita filii excussorum. . beatus vir qui implevit desiderium suum ex ipsis: non confundetur cum loquetur inimicis suis in porta. . gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. jam himes transiit, imber abiit et recessit: surge amica mea, et veni. alleluia. page - ---------- fifth antiphon and psalm fourth tone chanter speciosa facta es choir et suavis in deliciis tuis, sancta dei genitrix. alleluia. ---------- lauda jerusalem (psalm ) . lauda jerusalem dominum: lauda deum tuum sion. . quoniam confortavit seras portarum tuarum: benedixit fili is tuis in te. . qui posuit fines tuos pacern: et adipe frumenti satiat te. . qui emittit eloquium suum terrae: velociter currit sermo ejus. . qui dat nivem sicut lanam: nebulam sicut cinerem spargit. . mittit crystallum suam sicut buccellas: ante faciem frigoris ejus quis sustinebit? . emittet verbum suum, et liquefaciet ea: flabit spiritus ejus, et fluent aquae. . qui annuntiat verbum suum jacob: justitias et judicia sua israel. . non fecit taliter omni nationi: et judicia sua non manifestavit eis. . gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. alleluia. the celebrant sings the capitulum: after which the choir sings deo gratias the hymn "ave maris stella" is then sung (see no. ) after which the following versicle and response is sung: v. dignare me laudare te virgo sacrata. r. da mihi virtutem contra hostes tuos. for the second vespers the antiphon to the magnificat is then intoned by a chanter (or the celebrant) and continued by the choir. page - ---------- (for the solemn version of the magnificat see no. ) the version given below is the simple setting. ad magnificat (in ii. vesperis) antiphon chanter beatam me dicent choir omnes generationes, quia ancillam humilem respexit deus. alleluia. . magnificat anima mea dominum. . et exsultavit spiritus meus in deo salutari meo. . quia respexit humilitatem ancillae suae: ecce enim ex hoc beatam me dicent omnes generationes. . quia fecit mihi magna qui potens est: et sanctum nomen ejus. . et misericordia ejus a progenie in progenies timentibus eum. . fecit potentiam in brachio suo: dispersit superbos mente cordis sui. . deposuit potentes de sede, et exaltavit humiles. . esurientes implevit bonis: et divites dimisit inanes. . suscepit, israel puerum suum, recordatus misericordiae suae. . sicut locutus est ad patres nostros, abraham, et semini ejus in saecula. . gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto. . sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. amen. beatam me dicent omnes generationes, quia ancillam humilem respexit deus. alleluia. page - ---------- responses after the "magnificat" celebrant dominus vobiscum. choir et cum spiritu tuo. celebrant oremus. choir amen. celebrant benedicamus domino. choir deo gratias. celebrant fidelium animae. choir amen. celebrant dominus det nobis suam pacem. choir et vitam aeternam. amen. after this, one of the antiphons to our lady is sung according to the season "alma redemptoris mater," "ave regina," "regina coeli," or "salve regina." (see nos. to ). (also - ) page ---------- no. compline four antiphons in honor of the blessed virgin * note: see settings in figured style at nos to . alma redemptoris mater gregorian fifth mode chanter alma tutti redemptoris mater, quae pervia caeli porta manes, et stella maris, succurre cadenti, surgere qui curat populo: tu quae genuisti, natura mirante, tuum sanctum genitorem: virgo prius ac posterius, gabrielis ab ore summens illud ave, peccatorum miserere. st response (in advent) et concepit de spiritu sancto. nd response (after christmas) dei genitrix intercede pro nobis. page ---------- no. ave regina coelorum (simplified version) (solesmes) sixth mode chanters ave regina caelorum tutti ave domina angelorum: salve radix, salve porta, ex qua mundo lux est orta. gaude virgo gloriosa, super omnes speciosa: vale, o valde decora, et pro nobis christum exora. response: da mihi virtutem contra hostes tuos. page ---------- no. regina coeli gregorian sixth mode chanter regina coeli tutti laetare, alleluia: quia quem meruisti portare, alleluia: resurrexit, sicut dixit, alleluia: ora pro nobis deum, alleluia. response: quia surrexit dominus vere, alleluia. ---------- no. salve regina (solesmes) fifth mode chanter salve regina, tutti mater misericordiae: vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve. ad te clamamus, exsules, filii hevae. ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes in hac lacrimarum valle. eia ergo. advocata nostra, illos tuos misericordes oculos ad nos converte. et jesum, benedictum fructum ventris tui, nobis post hoc exsilium ostende. o clemens, o pia, o dulcis virgo maria. response: ut digni efficiamur promissionibus christi. page - ---------- no. missa brevis a short and easy mass for unison chorus or chorus in two or three parts. nicola a. montani andante kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. christe eleison. christe eleison. christe eleison. kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. kyrie eleison. copyright by n. a. montani page ---------- gloria nicola a.montani celebrant gloria in excels is deo: choir et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis. laudamus te. benedicimus te. adoramus te. glorificamus te. gratias agimus tibi, propter magnam gloriam tuam. domine deus, rex coelestis, deus pater omnipotens. domine fili unigenite jesu christe. domine deus, agnus dei, filius patris. qui tollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis. qui tollis peccata mundi: suscipe deprecationem nostram. qui sedes as dexteram patris, miserere nobis. quoniam to solus sanctus. to solus dominus. tu solus altissimus, jesu christe. cum sancto spiritu, in gloria dei patris. amen. page - ---------- no. sanctus and benedictus (for credo see nos. and ) nicola a. montani slowly sanctus, sanctus, sanctus dominus deus sabaoth. pleni sunt coeli et terra gloria tua. hosanna in excelsis. hosanna in excelsis. hosanna in excelsis. benedictus qui venit in nomine domini. hosanna in excelsis. hosanna in excelsis. hosanna in excelsis. page ---------- no. agnus dei moderato agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis. agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis. agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: dona nobis pacem. page page ---------- the st. gregory hymnal and catholic choir book compiled, edited and arranged by nicola a. montani published in three different editions ---------- the complete edition. organ accompaniment containing all the music and full text pages bound in blue cloth--gilt lettering--octavo size price --$ . net. postage extra ---------- the singers' edition--melody edition containing one line of music ( voices) (s.a. or t.b,) and the complete text conveniently arranged so that every syllable appears under the proper note. ( pages. bound in blue cloth)--smaller size than the complete edition. price $ . net. postage extra ---------- the word edition. book of words containing the text only--with complete set of indices--octavo size--( pages) bound in heavy and durable paper. (especially adapted for sodalities, schools and societies.) price c. (special discounts in quantities.) page transcribed by linda cantoni. [transcriber's note: this e-book is volume of thomas d'urfey's _wit and mirth: or pills to purge melancholy_, published in six volumes in - by j. tonson, london. it was prepared from a facsimile reprint by folklore library publishers, inc., new york, of an reprint (publisher unidentified). the - edition was published in two issues. the first issue was published under the title _songs compleat, pleasant and divertive_; the second, under the _wit and mirth_ title. the reprint apparently used a combination of the two issues, and volume bears the _songs compleat_ title. moreover, the reprint was not an exact facsimile of the - edition, as the typography and music notation were modernized. for more information on the various editions, see cyrus l. day, "pills to purge melancholy," _the review of english studies_, vol. , no. (apr. ), pp. - , available at http://www.jstor.org/stable/ (login required). archaic and inconsistent spellings and hyphenation have been preserved as they appear in the original, except that "vv" is rendered as "w." the original order of titles in the alphabetical table has also been preserved. obvious printer errors have been corrected. some words are rendered in the original in blackletter font. they are rendered here in uppercase letters. italics are indicated with underscores.] wit and mirth: or pills to purge melancholy edited by thomas d'urfey in six volumes volume v folklore library publishers, inc. new york _this edition is a facsimile reproduction of the reprint of the original edition of - ._ copyright © printed in the u.s.a. by noble offset printers, inc. new york , new york songs compleat, pleasant and divertive; set to musick by dr. john blow, mr. henry purcell, and other excellent masters of the town. ending with some orations, made and spoken by me several times upon the publick stage in the theater. together with some copies of verses, prologues, and epilogues, as well as for my own plays as those of other poets, being all humerous and comical. vol. v. _london:_ printed by _w. pearson_, for _j. tonson_, at shakespear's head, against _catherine_ street in the _strand_, . an alphabetical table of the songs and poems contain'd in this book. page a _all christians and_ lay-elders _too_, _as i went by an hospital_, _a shepherd kept sheep on a_, _as i was a walking under a grove_, _a councel grave our king did hold_, _a heroe of no small renown_, _as the fryer he went along_, _a bonny lad came to the court_, _a pox on those fools, who exclaim_, _amongst the pure ones all_, _as oyster_ nan _stood by her tub_, _ah!_ cælia _how can you be_, _are you grown so melancholy_, _as_ collin _went from his sheep_, _a wife i do hate_, _a thousand several ways i try'd_, _a_ whig _that's full_, _as_ cupid _roguishly one day_, _a young man sick and like to die_, _at noon in a sultry summer's day_, _ah! how lovely sweet and dear_, _advance, advance, advance gay_, _ah! foolish lass, what mun i do_, b _bold impudent_ fuller _invented_, _by moon-light on the green_, _bonny_ peggy ramsey _that any_, _by shady woods and purling_, belinda! _why do you distrust_, _born to surprize the world_, _bring out your coney-skins_, _bonny_ scottish _lads that keens_, c _come bring us wine in plenty_, _come pretty birds present your_, _come fill up the bowl with_, _cease lovely_ strephon, _cease to_, _cease whining_ damon _to complain_, cælia _my heart has often rang'd_, corinna, _if my fate's to love you_, cælia's _charms are past expressing_, _come beaus, virtuoso's, rich heirs_, _cease, cease of_ cupid _to complain_, _come, come ye nymphs_, chloe _blush'd, and frown'd, and swore_, cælia _hence with affectation_, d _did you not hear of a gallant_, _divine_ astrea _hither flew_, _draw_ cupid _draw, and make_, damon _if you will believe me_, _drunk i was last night that's_, delia _tir'd_ strephon _with her_, f _fair_ cælia _too fondly contemns_, _fly_ damon _fly, 'tis death to stay_, _fear not mortal, none shall harm_, _farewel ungrateful traytor_, g gilderoy _was a bonny boy_, _good neighbour why do you_, h _how now sister_ betteris, _why look_, _heaven first created woman to_, _hears not my_ phillis _how_, _how happy's the mortal whose_, _he himself courts his own ruin_, _how happy and free is the_, _how charming_ phillis _is_, _hither turn thee, hither turn thee_, _here lies_ william de valence, _ho my dear joy, now what dost_, _here's a health to the tackers_, _here are people and sports of_, _hark! now the drums beat up again_, _how often have i curs'd that sable deceit_, i _i am a young lass of_ lynn, _i am a jovial cobler bold and_, _it was a rich merchant man_, _if sorrow the tyrant invade_, _in the pleasant month of_ may, _it was a happy golden day_, _i prithee send me back my heart_, _in_ chloris _all soft charms agree_, _i lik'd, but never lov'd before_, iris _beware when_ strephon _pursues_, _i am one in whom nature has_, _in vain, in vain, the god i ask_, _in the devil's country there_, _in elder time, there was of_ yore, ianthia _the lovely, the joy of_, jockey _met with_ jenny _fair_, _i met with the devil in the_, _jilting is in such a fashion_, jockey _loves his_ moggy _dearly_, l _let the females attend_, _let's be jolly, fill our glasses_, _let's sing of stage-coaches_, _last_ christmas _'twas my chance_, _lately as thorough the fair_, _let soldiers fight for pay and praise_, _long had_ damon _been admir'd_, laurinda, _who did love disdain_, _let ambition fire thy mind_, _long was the day e'er_ alexis, _let's be merry, blith and jolly_, m _my friend if you would understand_, _marriage it seems is for better_, n _no more let_ damon's _eyes pursue_, _nay pish, nay pish, nay pish sir_, _no, no every morning my_, _now my freedom's regain'd_, _no_, phillis, _tho' you've all the charms_, _now to you ye dry wooers_, o _once more to these arms my_, _one night in my ramble i_, _oh! let no eyes be dry_, _old_ lewis le grand, _he raves like_, _of old soldiers, the song you_, _of late in the park a fair fancy_, _oh! how you protest and solemnly_, p philander _and_ sylvia, _a gentle_, _poor_ jenny _and i we toiled_, _pretty_ floramel, _no tongue can_, _plague us not with idle stories_, _poor_ mountfort _is gone, and the_, _pretty parrot say, when i was_, s _state and ambition, all joy to_, _stay, stay, shut the gates_, _slaves to_ london _i'll deceive you_, _stay, ah stay, ah turn, ah whither_, _see how fair and fine she lies_, _since_ cælia _only has the art_, _some brag of their_ chloris, _see, sirs, see here! a doctor rare_, _swain thy hopeless passion smother_, t _there was an old woman liv'd_, _the suburbs is a fine place_, _there can be no glad man_, _then_ jockey _wou'd a wooing away_, _there was a lass of_ islington, _there was a lord of worthy fame_, _there was a jovial tinker_, _there is a fine doctor now come_, _there was a knight and he_, _think wretched mortal, think_, _to the wars i must alass_, _though the pride of my passion fair_, _tell me ye_ sicilian _swains_, _to the grove, gentle love, let_, _tell me no more of flames in_, _tho' fortune and love may be_, _that little patch upon your face_, _tho' over all mankind, besides my_, _there lives an ale-draper near_, _the caffalier was gone, and the_, _the_ devil _he pull'd off his jacket_, _the jolly, jolly breeze_, _the jolly, jolly bowl_, ib. u _upon a holiday, when nymphs_, w _where gott'st thou the_ haver-mill, _when first_ mardyke _was made_, _when maids live to thirty, yet never_, _what life can compare, with the_, _with my strings of small wire_, _when that young_ damon _bless'd_, _would you be a man in fashion_, _when first i fair_ celinda _knew_, _when busy fame o'er all the_, _why am i the only creature_, _where would coy_ amyntas _run_, _when gay_ philander _left the plain_, _wealth breeds care, love, hope_, _when first_ amyntas _charmed my_, _why so pale and wan fond lover_, _when i languish'd and wish'd you_, _when first i saw her charming face_, _while the love is thinking_, _when_ jemmy _first began to love_, y _you master colours pray_, _ye brave boys and tars_, _young_ coridon _and_ phillis, _your hay it is mow'd, and your_, _you happy youths, whose hearts_, _young ladies that live in the_, _you i love by all that's true_, _you've been with dull prologues_, songs compleat, pleasant and divertive, &c. vol. v. _the_ four-legg'd elder: _or a horrible relation of a_ dog _and an_ elder's maid. _by sir_ john burtonhead. [music] all christians and _lay-elders_ too, for shame amend your lives; i'll tell you of a dog-trick now, which much concerns you wives: an _elder's_ maid near _temple-bar_, (ah! what a quean was she?) did take an ugly mastiff cur, where christians use to be. _help house of commons, house of peers,_ _oh now or never help!_ _th' assembly hath not sat four years,_ _yet hath brought forth a whelp._ one evening late she stept aside, pretending to fetch eggs; and there she made her self a bride, to one that had four legs: her master heard a rumblement, and wonder she did tarry; not dreaming (without his consent) his dog would ever marry. _help house of commons_, &c. he went to peep, but was afraid, and hastily did run, to fetch a staff to help his maid, not knowing what was done: he took his _ruling elders_ cane, and cry'd out _help, help, here_; for _swash_ our mastiff, and poor _jane_, are now fight dog, fight bear. _help house of commons_, &c. but when he came he was full sorry, for he perceiv'd their strife; that according to the _directory_, they two were dog and wife: ah! (then said he) thou cruel quean, why hast thou me beguil'd? i wonder _swash_ was grown so lean, poor dog he's almost spoil'd. _help house of commons_, &c. i thought thou hadst no carnal sense, but what's in our lasses: and could have quench'd thy cupiscence, according to the _classes_: but all the parish see it plain, since thou art in this pickle; thou art an independent quean, and lov'st a conventicle. _help house of commons_, &c. alas now each _malignant_ rogue, will all the world perswade; that she that's spouse unto a dog, may be an _elder's_ maid: they'll jeer us if abroad we stir, good master _elder_ stay; sir, of what _classis_ is your cur? and then what can we say? _help house of commons_, &c. they'll many graceless ballads sing, of a presbyterian; that a _lay elder_ is a thing made up half dog, half man: out, out, said he, (and smote her down) was mankind grown so scant? there's scarce another dog in town, had took the covenant. _help house of commons_, &c. then _swash_ began to look full grim, and _jane_ did thus reply; sir, you thought nought too good for him, you fed your dog too high: 'tis true he took me in the lurch, and leap'd into my arms; but (as i hope to come at church) i did your dog no harm. _help house of commons_, &c. then she was brought to _newgate_ gaol, and there was naked stripp'd; they whipp'd her till the cords did fail, as dogs us'd to be whipp'd: poor city maids shed many a tear, when she was lash'd and bang'd; and had she been a _cavalier_, surely she had been hang'd. _help house of commons_, &c. hers was but _fornication_ found, for which she felt the lash: but his was _bugg'ry_ presum'd, therefore they hanged _swash_: what will become of _bishops_ then, or _independency_? for now we find both dogs and men, stand up for presbytry. _help house of commons_, &c. she might have took a _sow-gelder_, with _synod-men_ good store, but she would have a _lay-elder_, with two legs and two more: go tell the _assembly_ of divines, tell adoniram blue; tell _burgess_, _marshall_, _case_ and _vines_, tell _now-and-anon_ too. _help house of commons_, &c. some say she was a _scottish_ girl, or else (at least) a witch; but she was born in _colchester_, was ever such a bitch: take heed all christian virgins now, the _dog-star_ now prevails; ladys beware your monkeys too, for monkeys have long tails. _help house of commons_, &c. bless _king_ and _queen_, and send us peace, as we had seven years since: for we remember no _dog-days_, while we enjoy'd our prince: bless sweet prince _charles_, two _dukes_, three girls, lord save his _majesty_; grant that his _commons_, _lords_, and _earls_, may lead such lives as _he_. _help house of commons_, &c. _plain proof ruin'd: or, a grand_ cheat _discover'd._ [music] bold impudent _fuller_ invented a plot, and all to discover the devil knows what; about a young bantling strangely begot. _which no body can deny._ the better to cheat both the fools and the wise, he impos'd on a nation a hundred of lies; that none but a knight of the post could devise. _which no body can deny._ he tells us he had the honour to peep, in the warming-pan where the _welch_ infant did sleep; and found out a plot which was damnable deep, _which no body can believe._ then to the wise senate he suddenly went, where he told all the lies that he then could invent, for which he was voted a rogue by consent, _which no body can deny._ and tho' he was punish'd for that his offence, he has almost forgot it, it was so long since, therefore the whole game he began to commence, _which no body can deny._ then he to the lords his bold letters did send, and told the high peers, that the plot he could mend, and make it as plain, as he first did pretend, _which no body can deny._ he told them his witnesses were mighty men, that wou'd come to the town, tho' the devil knows when, and make _william fuller_ once famous agen, _which no body can deny._ the lords they were generous, noble and kind, and allowed him freedom his 'squires to find, the which he will do when the devil is blind, _which no body can deny._ so the peers they declared him a scandalous sot, and none thinks him fit to manage a plot, if _newgate_ and _tyburn_ does fall to his lot, _there's no body will deny._ they gave him no more time than himself did require, to find out his _jones_ and the wandering 'squire, but the time being come, they were never the nigher, _which no body can deny._ the brave house of _commons_ next for him did send, to hear what the block-headly fool wou'd pretend, who humbly request, that they wou'd him befriend, _which no body can deny._ one day he declar'd they were near _london_ town, but the very next day into _wales_ they were flown, such nimble heel'd witnessess never were known, _which no body can deny._ when being examin'd about his sham plot, he answer'd as though he had minded them not, perhaps the young rogue had his lesson forgot, _which no body can deny._ but after some study and impudent tales, ask'd for a commission to march into _wales_, and be chang'd to a herse, as rogues goes to gaols, _which no body can deny._ but seeing his impudence still to abound, to go search for the men who were not to be found, they immediately sent him back to _fleet_ pound, _which no body can deny._ from the _fleet_ to the cart may he quickly advance to learn the true steps of old _oates's_ new dance, and something beside, or it is a great chance, _which no body can deny._ he has made it a trade to be doing of wrong, in swearing, and lying, and cheating so long, for all his life time, he's been at it ding dong, _which no body can deny._ _welch taffy_ he raves and crys splutterdenails, he's abused hur highness with lies and with tales, hur will hang hur if e'er hur can catch hur in _wales_, _which no body will deny._ _the woman warrior._ _who liv'd in_ cow-cross _near_ west-smithfield; _who changing her apparrel, entered her self on board in quality of a soldier, and sailed to_ ireland, _where she valiantly behaved her self, particularly at the siege of_ cork, _where she lost her toes, and received a mortal wound in her body, of which she since died in her return to_ london. [music] let the females attend, to the lines which are penn'd, for here i shall give a relation; of a young marry'd wife, who did venture her life, for a soldier, a soldier she went from the nation. she her husband did leave, and did likewise receive her arms, and on board she did enter; and right valiantly went, with a resolution bent, to the ocean, the ocean her life there to venture. yet of all the ships crew, not a seaman that knew, they then had a woman so near 'em; on the ocean so deep, she her council did keep, ay, and therefore, and therefore she never did fear 'em. she was valiant and bold, and would not be controul'd, by any that dare to offend her; if a quarrel arose, she would give him dry blows, and the captain, the captain did highly commend her. for he took her to be, then of no mean degree, a gentleman's son or a 'squire; with a hand white and fair, there was none could compare, which the captain, the captain did often admire. on the _irish_ shore, where the cannons did roar, with many stout lads she was landed; there her life to expose, she lost two of her toes, and in battle, in battle was daily commended. under _grafton_ she fought, like a brave hero stout, and made the proud tories retire; she in field did appear, with a heart void of fear, and she bravely, she bravely did charge and give fire. while the battering balls, did assault the strong walls, of _cork_ and the sweet trumpets sounded; she did bravely advance, where by unhappy chance, this young female, young female alass she was wounded. at the end of the fray, still she languishing lay, then over the ocean they brought her; to her own native shore, now they ne'er knew before, that a woman, a woman had been in that slaughter. what she long had conceal'd, now at length she reveal'd, that she was a woman that ventur'd; then to _london_ with care, she did straitways repair, but she dy'd, oh she dy'd e'er the city she enter'd. when her parents beheld, they with sorrow was fill'd, for why they did dearly adore her: in her grave now she lies, 'tis not watery eyes, no nor sighing, nor sighing that e'er can restore her. _a medly, compos'd out of several_ songs. [music] state and ambition, all joy to great _cæsar_, _sawney_ shall ne'er be my colly my cow; all hail to the shades, all joy to the bridegroom, and call upon _dobbin_ with hi, je, ho. remember ye whigs, what was formerly done; and _jenny_ come tye my bonny cravat, if i live to grow old for i find i go down, for i cannot come every day to wooe. _jove_ in his throne was a fumbler, _tom farthing_, and _jockey_ and _jenny_ together did lie; oh mother _roger_: boys, fill us a bumper, for why will ye die my poor _cælia_, ah why? hark! how thundring cannons do roar, ladies of _london_ both wealthy and fair; _charon_ make hast and ferry me over, lilli burlero bullen a lah. _chloris_ awake, four-pence-half-penny-farthing, give me the lass that is true country bred; like _john_ of _gaunt_ i walk in _covent-garden_, i am a maid and a very good maid: twa bonny lads was _sawney_ and _jockey_, the delights of the bottle and charms of good wine; wading the water so deep my sweet _moggy_, cold and raw, let it run in the right line. old _obadiah_ sings _ave-maria_, sing lulla-by-baby with a dildo; the old woman and her cat sat by the fire, now this is my love d'y' like her ho? old _charon_ thus preached to his pupil _achilles_, and under this stone here lies _gabriel john_; happy was i at the fight of fair _phillis_, what should a young woman do with an old man? there's old father _peters_ with his romish creatures, there was an old woman sold pudding and pies, cannons with thunder shall fill them with wonder, i once lov'd a lass that had bright rowling eyes: there's my maid _mary_, she does mind her dairy, i took to my heels and away i did run; and bids him prepare to be happy to morrow, alass! i don't know the right end of a gun. my life and death does lye both in your power, and every man to his mind, _shrewsbury_ for me; on the bank of a brook as i sat fishing, shall i die a maid and never married be: uds bobs let _oliver_ now be forgotten, _joan_ is as good as my lady in the dark; cuckolds are christians boys all the world over, and here's a full bumper to _robin john clark_. _the_ trooper _watering his_ nagg. [music] there was an old woman liv'd under a hill, sing trolly lolly, lolly, lolly, lo; she had good beer and ale for to sell, ho, ho, had she so, had she so, had she so; she had a daughter her name was _siss_, sing trolly lolly, lolly, lolly, lo; she kept her at home for to welcome her guest, ho, ho, did she so, did she so, did she so. there came a trooper riding by, sing trolly, _&c._ he call'd for drink most plentifully, ho, ho, did he so, _&c._ when one pot was out he call'd for another, sing trolly, _&c._ he kiss'd the daughter before the mother, ho, ho, did he so, _&c._ and when night came on to bed they went, sing trolly, _&c._ it was with the mother's own consent, ho, ho, was it so, _&c._ quoth she what is this so stiff and warm, sing trolly _&c._ 'tis ball my nag he will do you no harm, ho, ho, wont he so, _&c._ but what is this hangs under his chin, sing trolly, _&c._ 'tis the bag he puts his provender in, ho, ho, is it so, _&c._ quoth he what is this? quoth she 'tis a well, sing trolly, _&c._ where ball your nag may drink his fill, ho, ho, may he so, _&c._ but what if my nag should chance to slip in, sing trolly, _&c._ then catch hold of the grass that grows on the brim, ho, ho, must i so, _&c._ but what if the grass should chance to fail, sing trolly, _&c._ shove him in by the head, pull him out by the tail, ho, ho, must i so, _&c._ _a trip to the_ jubilee. _the tune by mr._ r. loe. [music] come bring us wine in plenty, we've money enough to spend; i hate to see the pots empty, a man cannot drink to's friend: then drawer bring up more wine, and merrily let it pass; we'll drink till our faces do shine, he that wont may look like an ass: and we'll tell him so to his face, if he offers to baulk his glass, for we defy all such dull society. 'tis drinking makes us merry, and mirth diverts all care; a song of hey down derry, is better than heavy air: make ready quickly my boys, and fill up your glasses higher; for we'll present with huzzas, and merrily all give fire; since drinking's our desire, and friendship we admire, for here we'll stay, ne'er call drawer what's to pay. _the_ good fellow. [music] let's be jolly, fill our glasses, madness 'tis for us to think, how the world is rul'd by asses, that o'ersway the wise with chink: let not such vain thoughts oppress us, riches prove to them a snare; we are all as rich as _croesus_, drink your glasses, take no care. wine will make us fresh as roses, and our sorrows all forgot; let us fuddle well our noses, drink ourselves quite out of debt: when grim death is looking for us, whilst we're singing o'er our bowls; _bacchus_ joyning in our chorus, death depart, here's none but souls. jockey's _escape from_ dundee; _and the parsons daughter whom he had mow'd._ [music] where gott'st thou the _haver-mill bonack_? blind booby can'st thou not see; ise got it out of the _scotch-man's_ wallet, as he lig lousing him under a tree: _come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,_ _come saddle my horse, and call up my man;_ _come open the gates, and let me go free,_ _and shew me the way to bonny_ dundee. for i have neither robbed nor stole, nor have i done any injury; but i have gotten a fair maid with child, the minister's daughter of bonny _dundee_: _come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,_ _come saddle my horse and call up my man,_ _come open the gates and let me go free,_ _and ise gang no more to bonny_ dundee. altho' ise gotten her maiden-head, geud feth ise given her mine in lieu; for when at her daddy's ise gang to bed, ise mow'd her without any more to do? ise cuddle her close, and gave her a kiss, pray tell now where is the harm of this, _then open the gates and let me go free,_ _and ise gang no more to bonny_ dundee. all _scotland_ ne'er afforded a lass, so bonny and blith as _jenny_ my dear; ise gave her a gown of green on the grass, but now ise no longer must tarry here: then saddle my nag that's bonny and gay, for now it is time to gang hence away, _then open the gates and let me go free,_ _she's ken me no more to bonny_ dundee. in liberty still i reckon to reign, for why i have done no honest man wrong; the parson may take his daughter again, for she'll be a mammy before it is long: and have a young lad or lass of my breed, ise think i have done her a generous deed; _then open the gates and let me go free,_ _for ise gang no more to bonny_ dundee. since _jenny_ the fair was willing and kind, and came to my arms with a ready good will; a token of love ise left her behind, thus i have requited her kindness still: tho' _jenny_ the fair i often had mow'd, another may reap the harvest i sow'd, _then open the gates and let me go free,_ _she's ken me no more to bonny_ dundee. her daddy would have me to make her my bride, but have and to hold i ne'er could endure; from bonny _dundee_ this day i will ride, it being a place not safe and secure: then _jenny_ farewel my joy and my dear, with sword in my hand the passage i'se clear; _then open the gates and let me go free,_ _for ise gang no more to bonny_ dundee. my father he is a muckle good leard, my mother a lady bonny and gay; then while i have strength to handle a sweard, the parson's request ise never obey: then _sawny_ my man be thou of my mind, in bonny _dundee_ we'se ne'er be confin'd, _the gates we will force to set ourselves free,_ _and never come more to bonny_ dundee. the _sawny_ reply'd ise never refuse, to fight for a leard so valiant and bold; while i have a drop of blood for to lose, e'er any fickle loon shall keep us in hold: this sweard in my hand i'll valiantly weild, and fight by your side to kill or be kill'd, _for forcing the gates and set ourselves free,_ _and so bid adieu to bonny_ dundee. with sweard ready drawn they rid to the gate, where being denied an entrance thro' the master and man they fought at that rate, that some ran away, and others they slew: thus _jockey_ the leard and _sawny_ the man, they valiantly fought as highlanders can, _in spight of the loons they set themselves free,_ _and so bid adieu to bonny_ dundee. _a_ song. _sung by mr._ dogget. [music: let's sing of stage-coaches, and fear no reproaches; for riding in one, but daily be jogging, while whistling, and flogging, while whistling and flogging, the coachman drives on; with a hey geeup, geeup hey ho, with a hey gee dobin hey ho, hey, geeup, geeup, geeup hey ho, geeup, geeup, geeup hey ho, with a hey, gee dobin hey ho.] in coaches thus strowling, who wou'd not be rowling; with nymphs on each side, still pratling and playing; our knees interlaying, we merrily ride. _with a hey_, &c. here chance kindly mixes, all sorts and all sexes, more females than men, we squeese 'em, we ease 'em, the jolting does please 'em, drive jollily then, _with a hey_, &c. the harder you're driving, the more 'tis reviving, nor fear we to tell, for if the coach tumble, we'll have a rare jumble, and then up tails all, _with a hey_, &c. _the crafty cracks of_ east-smith-field, _who pick't up a master colour upon_ tower-hill, _whom they plundred of a purse of_ silver, _with above threescore_ guineas. [music] you master colours pray draw near, and listen to my report; my grief is great, for lo of late, two ladies i chanc'd to court: who did meet me on _tower-hill_, their beauties i did behold: _those crafty jades have learnt their trades,_ _and plunder'd me of my gold._ i'll tell you how it came to pass, this sorrowful story is thus: of guineas bright a glorious sight, i had in a cat-skin purse: the value of near fourscore pounds, as good as e'er i had told, _those crafty jades have learnt their trades,_ _and plunder'd me of my gold._ i saw two poor distressed men, who lay upon _tower-hill_, to whom in brief i gave relief, according to my good will: two wanton misses drawing near, my guineas they did behold; they laid a plot by which they got, my silver and yellow gold. they both address'd themselves to me, and thus they was pleas'd to say; kind sir, indeed, we stand in need, altho' we are fine and gay: of some relief which you may give, i thought they were something bold; the plot was laid, i was betray'd, and plunder'd of all my gold. alas 'tis pity, then i cry'd, such ladies of good repute, should want relief, therefore in brief, i gave 'em a kind salute: thought i of them i'll have my will, altho' i am something old; they were i see too wise for me, they plunder'd me of my gold. then to _east-smithfield_ was i led, and there i was entertain'd: with kisses fine and brandy wine, in merriment we remain'd: methought it was the happiest day, that ever i did behold; sweet meat alass! had sower sauce, they plunder'd me of my gold. time after time to pay their shot, my guineas i would lug out; those misses they wou'd make me stay, and rally the other bout: i took my fill of pleasures then altho' i was something old; those joys are past, they would not last, i'm plunder'd of all my gold. as i was at the wanton game, my pocket they fairly pick'd; and all my wealth they took by stealth, thus was a poor colour trick'd: let me therefore a warning be, to merchants both young and old; for now of late hard was my fate, i'm plunder'd of all my gold. they got three pounds in silver bright, and guineas above threescore, such sharping cracks breaks merchants backs, i'll never come near them more: sure now i have enough of them, my sorrow cannot be told; that crafty crew makes me look blew, i'm plunder'd of all my gold. _the dance of the_ usurer _and the_ devil. [music] last _christmas_ 'twas my chance, to be in _paris_ city; where i did see a dance, in my conceit was very pretty--by men of france. first came the lord of _pool_, and he begun his measure; the next came in a fool, and danc'd with him for pleasure--with his tool. the next a knight came in, who look'd as he would swagger; and after follow'd him a merry needy beggar--dancing in. the next a gentleman, on him a servant tending, and there the dance began, with nimble bodies bending--like two friends. then in a lawyer came, with him a knave came leaping; and as they danc'd in frame, so hand in hand went skipping--to the term. the next a citizen, and he a cuckold leading; so round about the room, their masque they fell a treading--and fain they would. the next an usurer, old fat guts he came grunting; the devil left all care, for joy he fell a jumping--to see him there. and ending then their masque, the fool his lord he carries upon his back in hast, no longer there he tarries--but left the place. the beggar took the knight, who took it in derision; the searjeant took in spite, the gentleman to prison--for all his might. the cuckold, silly man, altho' he was abhorred: he took the citizen, and led him by the forehead--and out he ran. the devil lik'd it well, his lot it was to carry; the usurer to hell, and there with him to tarry. _the_ suburbs _is a fine place: to the_ tune _of_ london _is a fine town._ [music] the suburbs is a fine place belonging to the city, it has no government at all, alack the more the pity; a wife, a silly animal, esteemed in that same place, for there a civil woman's now asham'd to shew her face: the misses there have each man's time, his money, nay, his heart, then all in all, both great and small, and all in ev'ry part. which part it is a thorough-fair so open and so large, one well might sail through ev'ry tail even in a western barge; these cracks that coach it now, when first they came to town, did turn up tail for a pot of ale in linsey wolsey gown. the bullies first debauch'd 'em, in baudy _covent-garden_, that filthy place, where ne'er a wench was ever worth a farthing; and when their maiden-heads are sold to sneaking lords, which lords are clapt at least nine-fold for taking of their words. and then my lord, that many tries, she looks so innocent, believing he infected her, he makes a settlement; these are your cracks, who skill'd in all kind of debauches, do daily piss, spue and whore in their own glass coaches. now miss turn night-walker, till lord-mayor's men she meets, o'er night she's drunk, next day she's finely flogged thro' _london_ streets; after their rooms of state are chang'd to bulks or coblers stalls, 'till poverty and pox agree they dying in hospitals. this suburbs gallant fop that takes delight in roaring, he spends his time in huffing, swearing, drinking, and in whoring; and if an honest man and his wife meet them in the dark, makes nothing to run the husband through to get the name of spark. but when the constable appears, the gallant, let me tell ye, his heart denies his breeches, and sinks into his belly; these are the silly rogues that think it fine and witty, to laugh and joak at aldermen, the rulers of the city. they'd kiss our wives, but hold, for all their plotting pates, while they would get us children, we are getting their estates; and still in vain they court pretending in their cares, that their estates may thus descend unto the lawful heirs. their play-houses i hate, are shops to set off wenches, where fop and miss, like dog and bitch, do couple under benches; that i might advise the chiefest play-house monger, i have a sister of my own both handsomer and younger. she lives not far off in the parish of st. _clements_, she never liv'd in cellar nor sold oranges and lemons: then why should play-house trulls with paint and such temptations, be an eye sore to me & more to the best part o'th' nation. now you that all this while have listened to my dity, with streightened hands pray drink a health unto this noble city: and let us pray to _jove_, these suburb folks to mend, and having now no more to say, i think it fit to end. _the old woman's_ wish. [music] as i went by an hospital, i heard an old woman cry, kind sir, quoth she, be kind to me, once more before i die, and grant to me those joys, that belong to woman-kind, and the fates above reward your love, to an old woman poor and blind. i find an itching in my blood, altho' it be something cold, therefore good man do what you can, to comfort me now i'm old. and grant to me those joys, that belong to woman-kind, and the fates above reward your love, to an old woman poor and blind. altho' i cannot see the day, nor never a glance of light; kind sir, i swear and do declare, i honour the joys of night: then grant to me those joys, that belong to woman-kind, and the fates above reward you love, to an old woman poor and blind. when i was in my blooming youth, my vigorous love was hot; now in my age i dare engage, a fancy i still have got: then give to me those joys, that belong to woman-kind, and the fates above reward your love, to an old woman poor and blind. you shall miss of a reward, if readily you comply; then do not blush but touch my flesh. this minute before i die: o let me tast those joys, that belong to woman-kind, and the fates above reward your love, to an old woman poor and blind. i forty shillings would freely give, 'tis all the mony i have; which i full long have begged for, to carry me to my grave: this i would give to have the bliss, that belongs to woman-kind, and the fates above reward your love, to an old woman poor and blind. i had a husband in my youth, as very well 'tis known, the truth to tell he pleased me well, but now i am left alone; and long to tast the good old game, that belongs to woman-kind: and the fates above reward your love, to an old woman poor and blind. if forty shillings will not do, my petticoat and my gown; nay smock also shall freely go, to make up the other crown: then sir, pray grant that kind request, that belongs to woman-kind; and the fates above reward your love, to an old woman poor and blind. tho' i am fourscore years of age, i love with a right good will; and what in truth i want in youth, i have it in perfect skill: then grant to me that charming bliss, that belongs to woman-kind; and the fates above reward your love, to an old woman poor and blind. now if you do not pleasure me, and give me the thing i crave; i do protest i shall not rest, when i am laid in my grave: therefore kind sir, grant me the joys, that belong to woman-kind; and the fates above reward your love, to an old woman poor and blind. _the mad-man's_ song. [music] there can be no glad-man compar'd to the mad-man, his mind is still void of care; his fits and his fancies, are above all mischances, and mirth is his ordinary fare. _then be thou mad, mad, mad let's be,_ _nor shall the foul fiend be madder than we._ the wise and the witty, in court and in city, are subject to sorrow and pain; while he that is mad, knows not why to be sad, nor has any cause to complain: _then be thou mad_, &c. we laugh at you wise men, that thus do despise men, whose senses you think to decline; mark well and you'll see, what you count but frenzy, is indeed but raptures divine. _then be thou mad_, &c. let the grave and the wise, pluck out their eyes, to set forth a book worth a groat; we mad-men are quicker, grow learn'd with good liquor, and chirp a merry note. _then be thou mad_, &c. hast thou lost thy estate man, why, care not for that man, what wealth may'st not fancy thy own; more than queen _dido_, or her ass-ear'd _midas_, that great philosopher's stone. _then be thou mad_, &c. _pompey_ was a mad-man, and so long a glad-man; but at length he was forc'd to flee; for _cæsar_ from _gallia_ beat him in _pharsalia_, 'cause a madder fellow then he. _then be thou mad_, &c. 'twas this extasie brave, that the great courage gave, if your eyes were but ope'd and would see; to great _alexander_, that mighty commander, as mad a fellow as could be. _then be thou mad_, &c. then around goes a health to the lady o'th' house, if any man here does forsake it; for a fool let him go, we know better manners, and so we mean to take it. _then be thou mad_, &c. there's no night mirth's going, nor any lad wooing, but mad-men are privy unto it; for the stars so peep, into every such thing, and wink upon us as you do it. _then be thou mad_, &c. when the frost, ice and snow, do benumb things below, we chirp as merry as larks; our sack and our madness, consumes cold and sadness, and we are the jovial sparks. _then be thou mad_, &c. has thy mistress frown'd on thee, or thy rival out-gone thee? let sober and wise fellows pine; whilst bright _miralind_ and goodly _dulcind_, and the rest of the fairies are thine. _then be thou mad_, &c. a mad-man needs baulk no manner of talk, his tongues never guilty with treason; but a wise knave would suffer, if the same he should utter, for a wise man's guilt is his reason. _then be thou mad_, &c. _a_ song. [music] a shepherd kept sheep on a hill so high, _fa, la, la_, &c. and there came a pretty maid passing by, _fa, la_, &c. shepherd, quoth she, dost thou want e'er a wife, no by my troth i'm not weary of my life, _fa, la, la_, &c. shepherd for thee i care not a fly, _fa, la, la_, for thou'st not the face with a fair maid to lie, _fa, la_, how now my damsel, say'st thou me so, thou shalt tast of my bottle before thou dost go, _fa, la_. then he took her and laid her upon the ground, _fa, la_, and made her believe that the world went round, _fa, la_, look yonder my shepherd, look yonder i spy, there are fine pretty babies that dance in the sky, _fa, la_. and now they are vanisht, and now they appear, _fa, la_, sure they will tell stories of what we do here, _fa, la, la_, lie still my dear _chloris_, enjoy thy conceit, for the babes are too young and too little to prate, _fa, la, la_. see how the heavens fly swifter than day, _fa, la, la_, rise quickly, or they will all run away, _fa, la, la_, rise quickly my shepherd, quickly i tell ye, for the sun, moon and stars are got all in my belly, _fa, la_. o dear, where am i? pray shew me the way, _fa, la, la_, unto my father's house hard by, _fa, la, la_, if he chance to chide me for staying so long, i'll tell him the fumes of your bottle were strong, _fa, la, la_. and now thou hast brought my body to shame, _fa, la_, i prithee now tell me what is thy name, _fa, la, la_, why _robin_ in the rushes my name is, quoth he, but i think i told her quite contrary, _fa, la, la_. then for _robin_ in the rushes, she did enquire, _fa, la, la_, but he hung down his head, and he would not come nigh her, _fa, la, la_, he wink'd with one eye, as if he had been blind, and he drew one leg after a great way behind, _fa, la, la_. _a_ song. [music] as i was a walking under a grove, within my self, as i suppos'd; my mind did oftentimes remove, and by no means could be disclosed: at length by chance a friend i met, which caused me long time to tarry; and thus of me she did intreat, to tell her when i meant to marry. sweet-heart, quoth i, if you would know, then hear the words, and i'll reveal it; since in your mind you bear it so, and in your heart you will conceal it: she promis'd me she'd make no words, but of such things she would be wary; and thus in brief i did begin, to tell her when i meant to marry. when _shrove-tide_ falls in _easter_ week, and _christmas_ in the midst of _july_; when lawyers for no fees will plead, and taylors they prove just and truly: when all deceits are quite put down, and truth by all men is preferred; and _indigo_ dies red and brown, o then my love and i'll be married. when men and beasts in the ocean flow, and fishes in green fields are feeding; when muscle-shells in the streets grow, and swans upon dry rocks be breeding: when cockle-shells are diamond rings, and glass to pearl may be compared; gold is made of a grey-goose wings, oh then my love and i'll be married. when hostesses do reckon true, and _dutchmen_ leave off drinking brandy; when cats do bark, and dogs do mew, and brimstone is took for sugar-candy: or when that _whitsontide_ do fall, within the month of _january_; and a cobler works without an awl, o then my, _&c._ when women know not how to scold, and maids on sweet-hearts ne'er are thinking; when men in the fire complain of cold, and ships on _salisbury_ plain fear sinking: or when horse-coursers turn honest men, and _london_ into _york_ is carried; and out of one you can take ten, oh then, _&c._ when candlesticks do serve for bells, and frying-pans they do use for ladles; when in the sea they dig for wells, and porridge-pots they use for cradles: when maids forget to go a _maying_, and a man on his back an ox can carry; or when the mice with the cat be playing, oh then, _&c._ good sir, since you have told me when, that you're resolv'd for to marry; i wish with all my heart till then, that for a wife you still may tarry: but if all young men were of your mind, and maids no better were preferred; i think it were when the d----l were blind, that we and our lovers should be married. gilderoys _last farewel. to a new tune._ [music] _gilderoy_ was a bonny boy, had roses tull his shun, his stockings were made of the finest silk, his garters hanging down: it was a comely sight to see, he was so trim a boy; he was my joy and heart's delight, _my handsom_ gilderoy. oh sike a charming eye he had, a breath as sweet as a rose, he never wore a hiland plad, but costly silken cloaths: he gain'd the love of ladies gay, there's none to him was coy; ah, wa's me, ise mourn this day, _for my dear_ gilderoy. my _gilderoy_ and i was born, both in one town together; not past seven years of age, since one did love each other: our daddies and our mammies both, were cloath'd with mickle joy, to think upon the bridal day, _betwixt i and my_ gilderoy. for _gilderoy_, that love of mine, geud faith ise freely bought: a wedding-sark of holland fine, with silk in flowers wrought: and he gave me a wedding ring, which i receiv'd with joy; no lads or lasses e'er could sing, _like my sweet_ gilderoy. in mickle joy we spent our time, till we was both fifteen; then gently he did lay me down, amongst the leaves so green: when he had done what he could do, he rose and he gang'd his way; but ever since i lov'd the man, _my handsome_ gilderoy. while we did both together play, he kiss'd me o'er and o'er; geud faith it was as blith a day, as e'er i saw before: he fill'd my heart in every vein, with love and mickle joy; who was my love and hearts delight, _mine own sweet_ gilderoy. oh never, never shall i see, the cause of past delight; or sike a lovely lad as he, transport my ravish'd sight: the law forbids what love enjoyns, and does prevent our joy; though just and fair were the designs, _of me and_ gilderoy. 'cause _gilderoy_ had done amiss, must he be punish'd then; what kind of cruelty is this to hang such handsom men? the flower of the _scotish_ land, a sweet and lovely boy; he likewise had a lady's hand, _my handsom_ gilderoy. at _leith_ they took my _gilderoy_, and there god wot they bang'd him: carry'd him to fair _edenburgh_, and there god wot they hang'd him: they hang'd him up above the rest, he was so trim a boy; my only love and heart's delight, _my handsom_ gilderoy. thus having yielded up his breath, in _cypress_ he was laid; then for my dearest, after death, a funeral i made: over his grave a marble-stone, i fixed for my joy; now i am left to weep alone, _for my dear_ gilderoy. _the_ scotch _wedding_ _between_ jockey _and_ jenny. [music] then _jockey_ wou'd a wooing away, on our feast-day when he was foo; then _jenny_ put on her best array, when she thought _jockey_ would come to woo. if i thought _jockey_ were come to town, it wad be for the leve of me; then wad i put on beth hat and goown, because i'd seem worstsome in his eye. then _jenny_ prick'd up a brant breeght broow, she was as breeght as onny clock; as _moggy_ always used to do, for fear her sweet-heart shou'd her mock. then _jenny_ shoo tripped up the stairs, and secretly to shift her smock; but leard how loud her mother swears, o hast away _jenny_, and come to _jock_. then _jenny_ came tripping down the stairs, oh leard so nimbly tripped she; but oh how _jockey_ began to stare, when he beheld hur fair beauty! then _jenny_ made a curtshy low, until the stairs did touch her dock; but leard how loud her mother did lough, when shoo _jenny_ was come to _jock_. then _jockey_ tuke _jenny_ by the nease, saying my dear lovey canst thou loof me? my father is dead and has left me land, some fair ould houses twa or three. thou shalt be the lady o'er them aw, i doot, quod _jenny_ you do me mock; ad ta my saw, quoth _jockey_, then, i come to woo thee _jenny_, quoth _jock_. _this to be said after the_ song. sea then they gang'd to the kirk to be wad; noow they den't use to wad in _scotchland_ as they wad in _england_, for they gang to the kirk, and they take the donkin by the rocket, and say, good morn sir donkin, says sir donkin, ah _jockey_ sen ater me, wit ta ha _jenny_ to thy wadded wife? ay by her lady quoth _jockey_ and thanka twa, we aw my heart; ah _jenny_ sen ater me, wit ta ha _jockey_ to thy wadded loon, to have and to hold for aver and aver, forsaking aw other loons, lubberloons, black lips, blue nases, an aw swiggbell'd caves? ah, an these twa be'nt as weel wadded as e'er i wadded twa in _scotchland_, the deel and st. _andrew_ part ye. _a_ scotch song _made to the_ irish jigg, _and sung to the king at_ whitehall. [music] lately as thorough the fair _edinborough_, to view the fair meadows as i was ganging; _jockey_ and _moggy_ were walking and talking, of love and religion, thus closely haranguing; never says _moggy_, come near me false _jockey_, for thou art a _whig_, and i mean to abhor thee; ize be no bride, nor will lig by thy side, for no sneaking rebel shall lift a leg o'er me. _jockey._ fairest and dearest, and to my heart nearest, to live with thy frowns i no longer am able; i am so loving, and thou art so moving, each hair of thy head ties me fast as a cable: thou hast that in thee, ise sure to win me, to _jew_, _turk_ or _atheist_, so much i adore thee; nothing i'd shun, that is under the sun, so i have the pleasure to lift a leg o'er thee. _moggy._ plotters and traytors, and associators, in every degree thou shalt swear to oppose 'em; swimmers and trimmers, the nations redeemers, and for thy reward thou shalt sleep in my bosom; i had a dad, was a royal brave lad, and as true as the sun to his monarch before me; _moggy_ he cry'd, the same hour that he dy'd, let no sneaking rebel e'er lift a leg o'er thee. _jockey._ adieu then ye crew then, of protestant blue men, no faction his _moggy_ from _jockey_ shall sever; thou shalt at court, my conversion report, i am not the first whig by his wife brought in favour; ise never deal, for the dull common weal, to fight for true monarchy shall be my glory; lull'd with thy charms, then i die in your arms, when i have the pleasure to lift a leg o'er thee. _the fair lass of_ islington. [music] there was a lass of _islington_, as i have heard many tell; and she would to fair _london_ go, fine apples and pears to sell: and as along the streets she flung, with her basket on her arm: her pears to sell, you may know it right well, this fair maid meant no harm. but as she tript along the street, her pleasant fruit to sell; a vintner did with her meet, who lik'd this maid full well: quoth he, fair maid, what have you there? in basket decked brave; fine pears, quoth she, and if it please ye a taste sir you shall have. the vintner he took a taste, and lik'd it well, for why; this maid he thought of all the rest, most pleasing to his eye: quoth he, fair maid i have a suit, that you to me must grant; which if i find you be so kind, nothing that you shall want. thy beauty doth so please my eye, and dazles so my sight; that now of all my liberty, i am deprived quite: then prithee now consent to me, and do not put me by; it is but one small courtesie, all night with you to lie. sir, if you lie with me one night, as you propound to me; i do expect that you should prove, both courteous, kind and free: and for to tell you all in short, it will cost you five pound, a match, a match, the vintner said, and so let this go round. when he had lain with her all night, her money she did crave, o stay, quoth he, the other night, and thy money thou shalt have: i cannot stay, nor i will not stay, i needs must now be gone, why then thou may'st thy money go look, for money i'll pay thee none. this maid she made no more ado, but to a justice went; and unto him she made her moan, who did her case lament: she said she had a cellar let out, to a vintner in the town; and how that he did then agree five pound to pay her down. but now, quoth she, the case is thus, no rent that he will pay; therefore your worship i beseech, to send for him this day: then strait the justice for him sent, and asked the reason why; that he would pay this maid no rent? to which he did reply, although i hired a cellar of her, and the possession was mine? i ne'er put any thing into it, but one poor pipe of wine: therefore my bargain it was hard, as you may plainly see; i from my freedom was debarr'd, then good sir favour me. this fair maid being ripe of wit, she strait reply'd again; there were two butts more at the door, why did you not roul them in? you had your freedom and your will, as is to you well known; therefore i do desire still, for to receive my own. the justice hearing of their case, did then give order strait; that he the money should pay down, she should no longer wait: withal he told the vintner plain if he a tennant be; he must expect to pay the same, for he could not sit rent-free. but when the money she had got, she put it in her purse: and clapt her hand on the cellar door, and said it was never the worse: which caused the people all to laugh, to see this vintner fine: out-witted by a country girl, about his pipe of wine. _the most famous_ ballad _of king_ henry _the th; his victory over the_ french _at_ agencourt. [music] a councel grave our king did hold, with many a lord and knight: that he might truly understand, that _france_ did hold his right. unto the king of _france_ therefore, embassadors he sent; that he might truly understand, his mind and whole intent. desiring him in friendly sort, his lawful right to yield; or else he swore by dint of sword, to win it in the field. the king of _france_ with all his lords, did hear this message plain; and to our brave embassador, did answer with disdain. and said our king was yet too young, and of but tender age; therefore they pass not for his threats, nor fear not his courage. his knowledge yet in feats of arms, as yet is very small; his tender joints more fitter are, to toss a tennis-ball. a tun of tennis-balls therefore, in pride and great disdain; he sent unto this royal king, to recompence his pain. which answer when our king did hear, he waxed wroth in heart; and swore he would provide such balls, should make all _france_ to smart. an army then our king did hold, which was both good and strong; and from _southampton_ is our king, with all his navy gone. in _france_ he landed safe and sound, both he and all his train; and to the town of _husle_ then he marched up amain. which when he had besieg'd the town, against the fenced walls; to batter down the stately towers, he sent his _english_ balls. when this was done our king did march, then up and down the land; and not a _frenchman_ for his life, durst once his force withstand. until he came to _agencourt_, whereas it was his chance; to find the king in readiness, with all the power of _france_. a mighty host he had prepar'd, of armed soldiers then; which were no less by just account, than forty thousand men. which sight did much amaze our king, for he and all his host; not passing fifteen thousand had, accounted with the most. the king of _france_ who well did know, the number of our men; in vaunting pride and great disdain, did send an herald then: to understand what he would give, for ransom of his life, when they in field had taken him, amongst the bloody strife. and when our king with cheerful heart, this answer then did make; before that it does come to pass, some of your hearts will ake. and to your proud presumptuous king, declare this thing, quoth he; my own heart's-blood will pay the price, nought else he gets of me. then spake the noble duke of _york_, o noble king, quoth he, the leading of this battle brave, it doth belong to me. god-a-mercy cousin _york_, he said, i grant thee thy request; then lead thou on couragiously, and i will lead the rest. then came the bragging _frenchmen_ down, with cruel force and might; with whom our noble king began, a fierce and dreadful fight. the archers they discharg'd their shafts, as thick as hail from skie; and many a _frenchman_ in the field, that happy day did die. their horses tumbled on the stakes, and so their lives they lost; and many a _frenchman_ there was ta'en, as prisoners to their cost. ten thousand men that day was slain, as enemies in the field: and eke as many prisoners, were forc'd that day to yield. thus had our king a happy day, and victory over _france_; and brought them quickly under foot that late in pride did prance. god save our king, and bless this land, and grant to him likewise; the upper-hand and victory, of all his enemies. _the lady_ isabella's _tragedy: or, the step-mother's cruelty._ _to the foregoing tune._ there was a lord of worthy fame, and a hunting he would ride, attended by a noble train, of gentry on each side. and whilst he did in chace remain, to see both sport and play; his lady went as she did feign, unto the church to pray. this lord he had a daughter fair, whose beauty shin'd so bright; she was belov'd both far and near, of many a lord and knight. fair _isabella_ was she call'd, a creature fair was she; she was her father's only joy, as you shall after see. but yet her cruel step-mother, did envy her so much; that day by day she sought her life, her malice it was such. she bargain'd with the master-cook, to take her life away; and taking of her daughter's book, she thus to her did say. go home, sweet daughter, i thee pray. go hasten presently; and tell unto the master-cook, these words which i tell thee. and bid him dress to dinner straight, that fair and milk-white doe; that in the park doth shine so bright, there's none so fair to show. this lady fearing of no harm, obey'd her mother's will; and presently she hasted home, her mind for to fulfil. she straight into the kitchin went, her message for to tell, and there the master-cook she spy'd, who did with malice swell. now master-cook it must be so, do that which i thee tell; you needs must dress the milk-white doe, which you do know full well. then straight his cruel bloody hands, he on the lady laid; who quivering and shaking stands, while thus to her he said: thou art the doe that i must dress, see here, behold my knife; for it is pointed presently, to rid thee of thy life. o then cry'd out the scullion boy, as loud as loud might be; o save her life, good master-cook, and make your pies of me? for pity sake do not destroy my lady with your knife; you know she is her father's joy, for christ's sake save her life. i will not save her life he said, nor make my pies of thee; yet if thou dost this deed betray, thy butcher i will be; now when this lord he did come home, for to sit down to meat; he called for his daughter dear, to come and carve his meat. now sit you down, his lady said, o sit you down to meat; into some nunnery she's gone, your daughter dear forget. then solemnly he made a vow, before the company; that he would neither eat nor drink, until he did her see. o then bespoke the scullion boy, with a loud voice so high; if that you will your daughter see my lord cut up the pye. wherein her flesh is minced small, and parched with the fire; all caused by her step-mother, who did her death desire. and cursed be the master-cook, o cursed may he be! i proffer'd him my own heart's blood, from death to set her free. then all in black this lord did mourn, and for his daughter's sake; he judged for her step-mother, to be burnt at a stake. likewise he judg'd the master-cook, in boyling lead to stand; he made the simple scullion boy, the heir to all his land. _a_ ballad _in praise of a certain commander in the city._ [music] a heroe of no small renown, but noted for a man of mettle; thro' all the parts of _london_ town, no gentleman, nor yet a clown, no grave wise man, nor stupid beetle. by many deeds of prowess done, he's gain'd a matchless reputation; perform'd by neither sword nor gun, but by what means you'll know anon, and how he work'd his preservation. well mounted on a noble steed, with sword and pistol charg'd before him; altho' we must confess indeed, of either arms there was no need, his conduct did alone secure him. with's wife upon a single horse, t'wards _eppin_ both rid out together; but what than ill luck can be worse, a high-way-man of equal force, alass, obstructed both their pleasure. with pistol cock'd he made demand, and told them he must have their money; the major wisely would not stand, nor on his pistols clap a hand, he was not such a fighting tony. but spur'd away as swift as wind, no elk or tyger could run faster; was ever man so stout and kind, to leave his frighted wife behind, expos'd to such a sad disaster. her necklace, cloaths and diamond ring, the greedy robber quickly fell to; one petticoat he let her bring away with smock, and t'other thing, to let her noble heroe smell to. this slight bred sad domestick strife, altho' the man's to be commended; for what's a loving handsome wife, to a man's money or his life, for all is lost when that is ended. _a_ song. [music] as the fryer he went along, and a poring in his book, at last he spy'd a jolly brown wench a washing of her buck, sing, _stow the fryer, stow the fryer_ _some good man, and let this fair maid go_. the fryer he pull'd out and a jolly brown t----d as much as he could handle, fair maid, quoth he, if thou earnest fire in thy a---- come light me this same candle. sing, _stow the fryer_, &c. the maid she sh---- and a jolly brown t---- out of her jolly brown hole, good sir, quoth she, if you will a candle light come blow me this same cole. sing, _stow the fryer_, &c. part of the sparks flew into the _north_, and part into the _south_, and part of this jolly brown t---- flew into the fryer's mouth. sing, _stow the fryer, stow the fryer_ _some good man, and let this fair maid go_. _the lass of_ lynn's _sorrowful lamentation for the loss of her maiden-head._ [music] i am a young lass of _lynn_, who often said thank you too; my belly's now almost to my chin, _i cannot tell what to do_. my being so free and kind, does make my heart to rue; the sad effects of this i find, _and cannot tell what to do_. my petticoats which i wore, and likewise my aprons too; alass, they are all too short before, _i cannot_, &c. was ever young maid so crost, as i who thank'd him too: for why, my maiden-head is lost, _i cannot tell what to do_. in sorrowful sort i cry'd, and may now for ever rue; the pain lies in my back and side, _i cannot tell what to do_. alass i was kind and mild, but now the same i rue; having no father for my child, _i cannot_, &c. i took but a touch in jest, believe me this is true; yet i have proved, i protest, _and cannot_, &c. he crav'd my virginity, and gave me his own in lieu; in this i find i was too kind, _and cannot_, &c. each damsel will me degrade, and so will the young men too; i'm neither widow, wife, nor maid, _i cannot_, &c. a cradle i must provide, a chair and posset too; nay, likewise twenty things beside, _i cannot_, &c. when i was a maiden fair, such sorrows i never knew; but now my heart is full of care, _i cannot_, &c. oh what will become of me, my belly's as big as two; 'tis with a two-legg'd tympany, _i cannot tell what to do_. you lasses that hear my moan, if you will your joys renew; besure, while married, lye alone, _or else you at length may rue_. i came of as good a race, as most is in _lynn_'s fair town; and cost a great deal bringing up, _but a little thing laid me down_. _the jovial tinker._ [music] there was a jovial tinker, which was a good ale drinker; he never was a shrinker, believe me this is true; and he came from the wild of _kent_, when all his money was gone and spent, which made him look like a _jack-a-lent_, _and joan's ale is new,_ _and joan's ale is new boys,_ _and joan's ale is new._ the tinker he did settle, most like a man of mettle, and vow'd to pawn his kettle, now mark what did ensue; his neighbours they flock'd in apace, to see _tom tinker's_ comely face, where they drank soundly for a space, _whilst_ joan's _ale_, &c. the cobler and the broom man, came next into the room, man, and said they would drink for boon man, let each one take his due; but when good liquor they had found, they cast their caps upon the ground, and so the tinker he drank round, _whilst_ joan's _ale_, &c. the rag-man being weary, with the burden he did carry, he swore he would be merry, and spend a shilling or two; and he told his hostess to her face, the chimney-corner was his place, and he began to drink apace, _and_ joan's _ale_, &c. the pedlar he drew nigher, for it was his desire, to throw the rags i'th' fire, and burn the bundle blue; so whilst they drank whole flashes, and threw about the glasses, the rags were burnt to ashes, _and_ joan's _ale_, &c. _the second_ part. and then came in a hatter, to see what was the matter, he scorn'd to drink cold water, amongst that jovial crew; and like a man of courage stout, he took the quart-pot by the snout, and never left till all was out, _o_ joan's _ale_, &c. the taylor being nimble, with bodkin, shears and thimble, he did no whit dissemble, i think his name was _true_; he said that he was like to choak, and he call'd so fast for lap and smoak, until he had pawn'd the vinegar cloak, _for_ joan's _ale_, &c. then came a pitiful porter, which often did resort there, quoth he, i'll shew some sport here, amongst the jovial crew; the porter he had very bad luck, before that it was ten a clock, the fool got drunk, and lost his frock, _for_ joan's _ale_, &c. the bonny brave shoe-maker, a brave tobacco taker, he scorn'd to be a quaker, i think his name was _hugh_; he call'd for liquor in so fast, till he forgot his awl and last, and up the reckoning he did cast, _whilst_ joan's _ale_, &c. and then came in the weaver, you never saw a braver, with a silk man and a glover, _tom tinker_ for to view; and so to welcom him to town, they every man spent half a crown, and so the drink went merrily down, _for_ joan's _ale_, &c. then came a drunken _dutchman_, and he would have a touch, man, but he soon took too much, man, which made them after rue; he drank so long as i suppose, 'till greasie drops fell from his nose, and like a beast befoul'd his hose, _whilst_ joan's _ale_, &c. a _welchman_ he came next, sir, with joy and sorrow mixt, sir, who being partly vex'd, sir, he out his dagger drew; cuts-plutter-a-nails, quoth _taffy_ then, a _welchman_ is a shentleman, come hostess fill's the other cann, _for_ joan's _ale_, &c. thus like to men of courage stout, couragiously they drank about, till such time all the ale was out, as i may tell to you; and when the business was done, they every man departed home, and promis'd _joan_ again to come, _when she had brew'd anew_. _the soldiers fortune: or, the taking_ mardyke. [music] when first _mardyke_ was made a prey, 'twas courage that carry'd the fort away, then do not lose your valours prize, by gazing on your mistresses eyes; but put off your petticoat-parley, potting and sotting, and laughing and quaffing canary, will make a good soldier miscarry: and never travel for true renown: then turn to your marshal mistress, fair _minerva_ the soldier's sister is; rallying and sallying, with gashing and slashing of wounds sir, with turning and burning of towns, sir, is a high step to a great man's throne. let bold _bellona's_ brewer frown, and his tunn shall overflow the town; and give the cobler sword and fate: and a tinker may trapan the state; such fortunate foes as these be, turn'd the crown to a cross at _naseby_: father and mother, sister and brother confounded, and many a good family wounded; by a terrible turn of fate, he that can kill a man, thunder and plunder the town, sir, and pull his enemies down, sir, in time may be an officer great. it is the sword does order all, makes peasants rise, and princes fall; all sylogisms in vain are spilt, no logick like a basket-hilt: it handles 'em joint by joint sir, quilling and drilling, and spilling, and killing profoundly, until the disputers on ground lie, and have never a word to say; unless it be quarter, quarter, truth is confuted by a carter, by stripping and nipping, and ripping and quipping evasions, doth conquer a power of perswasions, _aristotle_ hath lost the day. the musket bears so great a force, to learning it has no remorse; the priest, the layman, the lord, find no distinction from the sword; tan tarra, tan tarra the trumpet, now the walls begin to crack, the councellors struck dumb too, by the parchment upon the drum too; dub-a-dub, dub-a-dub, dub-a-dub, dub-a-dub an alarum, each corporal now can out-dare 'em, learned _littleton_ goes to rack. then since the sword so bright doth shine, we'll leave our wenches and our wine, and follow _mars_ where-e'er he runs, and turn our pots and pipes to guns. the bottles shall be grenadoes, we'll bounce about the bravado's by huffing and puffing, and snuffing and cuffing the _french_ boys, whose brows have been dy'd in a trench boys; well got fame is a warriour's wife, the drawer shall be the drummer, we'll be colonels all next summer by hiking and tilting, and pointing and jointing like brave boys, we shall have gold or a grave, boys, and there's an end of a soldier's life. _the_ misses _complaint._ _tune_, packington's pound. [music] how now sister _betteris_, why look you so sad? _gillian._ the times are so hard and our trading so bad, that we in our function no money can gain, our pride and our bravery for to maintain. _bett._ true sister, _gillian_, i know it full well, but what will you say if such news i do tell? and how't will rejoyce you, i'll make it out plain, will make our trade quick, and more money will gain. there's none of the pitiful tribe we'll be for, and six-penny customers we will abhor; for all those that will our dominions invade, must pay for their sauce, we must live by our trade. _gil._ good sister if you can make this but appear, my spirit and senses you greatly will chear, but a famine of flesh will bring all things to pass, or else we are as bad still as ever we was. _bett._ lately a counsel of bauds there did meet, in _cock_ and _pye_ alley, near _do-little_ street: and who was the counsel, and what was there done; i'll make it out to you as clear as the sun. from _ratcliffe-highway_, and from _nightingale-lane_, their deputies come with a very fine train: unto these two couple come long sided _sue_, is as good as e'er twang'd, if you give her her due. then _tower-ditch_ and _hatton-wall_ sent in their prayers, and drest as compleatly as horses to fairs; with them jumping _jenny_ appear'd, as 'tis said, who ne'er in her life of a man was afraid. the two metropolitans came from the park, as arch at the game, as e'er plaid in the dark; then _lutener's_-lane a gay couple did bring, two better, i think, was ne'er stretch'd in hemp-string. there was many others from places remote, the which were too tedious for me here to note; and what was their business i here will declare, how to keep our trade in repute they take care. and first for those ladies that walk in the night, their aprons and handkerchiefs they should be white, and that they do walk more in town than in fields, for that is the place most variety yields. and those that are over-much worn by their trade, shall go in a vessel, their passage being paid; the venture of cuckolds, 'tis called by name, and this is the way for to keep up our fame. and this is the ship which the cuckolds have brought, it lies at their haven, and is to be frought: and thither whores rampant, that please may repair, with master and captain to truck for their ware. and for a supply that our trade may increase, for wanton commodity it will grow less; we'll visit the carriers, and take them up there, and then for their tutering we will take care. in this we shall ease all the countries to do't, and do our selves pleasure and profit to boot; for one that is crack'd in the country before, in _london_ will make a spick and span whore. there's many more precepts which they did advise, but these which i'll give you here shall suffice: and when you have heard them, i think you will say, we ne'er were more likely to thrive in our way. _some orders agreed upon at a general consultation of the_ sisterhood _of_ nightingale-lane, ratcliff-high-way, tower-ditch, rose-mary-lane, hatton-wall, saffron-hill, wetstone's-park, lutener's-lane, _and other places adjacent, for the general encouragement and advancement of their occupation._ i. _that no_ night-walker _presume to go without a white apron and handkerchief, the better to be seen._ ii. _to keep due time and hours, for fear of the constable and his watch._ iii. _that those which are over-worn, cast off and cashier'd, do repair to the ship called_ (the cuckolds venture) _now riding at_ cuckolds haven, _thence to be transported over-sea, to have their breeches repaired._ iv. _that a due care be taken to visit the carriers for crack'd maidenheads, for the use and increase of our occupation._ v. _that all honest women belonging to either_ wittals _or_ cuckolds, _be admitted to the principal places in this ship._ vi. _and lastly, for the better state and magnificence of the honourable corporation of_ w----es, _'tis order'd that a chariot be made to be drawn by_ cuckolds, _the_ cuckold-makers _to drive, and the_ wittals _to ride._ _the well approved doctor:_ _or, an infallible cure for_ cuckolds. _to the foregoing tune._ there is a fine doctor now come to town, whose practice in physick hath gain'd him renown, in curing of cuckolds he hath the best skill, by giving one dose of his approved pill. his skill is well known, and his practice is great, then come to the doctor before 'tis too late; his med'cines are safe, and the doctor is sure, he takes none in hand but he perfects, the cure. the doctor himself he doth freely unfold, that he can cure cuckolds tho' never so old; he helps this distemper in all sorts of men, at forty and fifty, yea, threescore and ten. there was an old man lived near to the _strand_, decripid and feeble, scarce able to stand; who had been a cuckold full forty long years, but hearing of this how he prick'd up his ears. away to the doctor he went with all speed, where he struck a bargain, they soon were agreed; he cured his forehead that nothing was seen, and now he's as brisk as a youth of fifteen. now this being known, how his fame it did ring, and unto the doctor much trading did bring; they came to the doctor out of e'ery shire, from all parts and places, yea both far and near. both _dutchmen_ and _scotchmen_ to _london_ did ride, with _shonny-ap-morgan_, and thousands beside; thus all sorts and sizes, both rich men and poor, they came in whole cart-loads to this doctor's door. some whining, some weeping, some careful and sad, and some was contented, and others born mad; some crooked, some straight horns, and some overgrown, the like in all ages i think was ne'er known. some rich and brave flourishing cuckolds were there, that came in whole droves, sir, as if to _horn-fair_; for now there is hopes to be cur'd of their grief, the doctor declares in the fall of the leaf. let none be so foolish as now to neglect, this doctor's great kindness and civil respect; tho' rich men may pay, yet the poor may go free, so kind and so courteous a doctor is he. 'tis known he so worthy a conscience doth make, poor cuckolds he'll cure them for charity sake; nay, farther than this still his love does enlarge, providing for them at his own cost and charge. but some are so wicked, that they will exclaim against their poor wives, making 'em bare the blame; and will not look out in the least for a cure, but all their sad pains and their tortures endure. but 'tis without reason, for he that is born under such a planet, is heir to the horn: then come to the doctor both rich men and poor, he'll carefully cure you, what would you have more? the term of his time here the doctor does write, from six in the morning 'till seven at night; where in his own chamber he still will remain, at the sign of the _woodcock_ in _vinegar-lane_. _the doctor doth here likewise present you with the receipt of his infallible medicine, that those which have no occasion for it themselves, may do good to their neighbours and acquaintances: and take it here as followeth._ take five pound of brains of your _december_ flies, and forty true tears from a _crocodile's_ eyes; the wit of a _weasel_, the wool of a _frog_, with an ounce of conserve of _michaelmas_ fog. and make him a poultis when he goes to bed, to bind to his temples behind of his head; as hot as the patient he well can endure, and this is for cuckolds an absolute cure. _a_ song. good neighbour why do you look awry, you are a wond'rous stranger; you walk about, you huff and pout, as if you'd burst with anger: is it for that your fortune's great, or you so wealthy are? or live so high there's none a-nigh that can with you compare? but t'other day i heard one say, your husband durst not show his ears, but like a lout does walk about, so full of sighs and fears: good mrs. _tart_, i caren't a fart, for you nor all your jears. my husband's known for to be one, that is most chast and pure; and so would be continually, but for such jades as you are: you wash, you lick, you smug, you trick, you toss a twire a grin; you nod and wink, and in his drink, you strive to draw him in: you lie you punck, you're always drunk, and now you scold and make a strife, and like a whore you run o' th' score, and lead him a weary life; tell me so again you dirty quean, and i'll pull you by the quoif. go dress those brats, those nasty rats, that have a lear so drowzy; with vermin spread they look like dead, good faith they're always lousie: pray hold you there, and do not swear, you are not half so sweet; you feed yours up with bit and sup, and give them a dirty teat: my girls, my boys, my only joys, are better fed and taught than yours; you lie you flirt, you look like dirt, and i'll kick you out of doors; a very good jest, pray do your best, and faith i'll quit your scores. go, go you are a nasty bear, your husband cannot bear it; a nasty quean as e'er was seen, your neighbours all can swear it: a fulsome trot and good for nought, unless it be to chat; you stole a spoon out of the room, last christning you were at: you lye you bitch you've got the itch, your neighbours know you are not sound; look how you claw with your nasty paw, and i'll fell you to the ground; you've tore my hood, you shall make it good if it cost me forty pound. _the jovial_ cobler _of st._ hellens. [music] i am a jovial cobler bold and brave, and as for employment enough i have: for to keep jogging my hammer and awl, _whilst i sit singing and whistling in my stall,_ _stall, stall, whilst i sit singing and whistling in my stall._ but there's _dick_ the carman, and _hodge_ who drives the dray for sixteen, or eighteen pence a day, slave in the dirt, whilst i with my awl, _get more money, sitting, sitting in my stall_, &c. and there's _tom_ the porter, companion of the pot, who stands in the street with his rope and knot, waiting at a corner to hear who will him call, _whilst i am getting money, money in my stall_, &c. and there's the jolly broom-man, his bread for to get, crys brooms up and down in the open street, and one crys broken glasses tho' ne'er so small, _whilst i am getting money, money in my stall_, &c. and there's another gang of poor smutty souls, doth trudge up and down to cry small-coals; with a sack on their back, at a door stand and call, _whilst i am getting money, money in my stall_, &c. and there's another sort of notes, who crys up and down old suits and coats; and perhaps some days get nothing at all, _whilst i sit getting money, money in my stall_, &c. and there's the jolly cooper with his hoops at his back, who trudgeth up and down to see who lack their casks to be made tite, with hoops great and small, _whilst i sit getting money, money in my stall_, &c. and there's a jolly tinker that loves a bonny lass, who trudges up and down to mend old brass; with his long smutty punch to force holes withal, _whilst i sit getting money, money in my stall_, &c. and there is another old _tom terrah_, who up and down the city drives his barrow; to sell his fruit both great and small, _whilst i sit getting money, money in my stall_, &c. and there is the blind and lame, with a wooden leg, who up and down the city they forced are to beg some crumbs of comfort, the which are but small, _whilst i sit getting money, money in my stall_, &c. and there's a gang of wenches who oysters sell, and powder _moll_ with her sweet smell; she trudges up and down with powder and ball, _whilst i sit getting money, money in my stall_, &c. and there's the jovial girls with their milking-pails, who trudge up and down with their draggle tails: flip flapping at their heels for custom they call, _whilst i sit getting money, money in my stall_, &c. 'tis these are the gang who take great pain, and it is those who do me maintain; but when it blows and rains i do pity them all, _to see them trudge about while i am in my stall_, &c. and there's many more who slave and toil, their living to get, but it is not worth while, to mention them, so i'll sing in my stall, _i am the happiest mortal, mortal of them all,_ _all, all, i am the happiest mortal, mortal of them all._ _the merchant and the fidler's_ wife. [music] it was a rich merchant man, that had both ship and all; and he would cross the salt seas, tho' his cunning it was but small. the fidler and his wife, they being nigh at hand; would needs go sail along with him, from _dover_ unto _scotland_. the fidler's wife look'd brisk, which made the merchant smile; he made no doubt to bring it about, the fidler to beguile. is this thy wife the merchant said, she looks like an honest spouse; ay that she is, the fidler said, that ever trod on shoes. thy confidence is very great, the merchant then did say; if thou a wager darest to bet, i'll tell thee what i will lay. i'll lay my ship against thy fiddle, and all my venture too; so _peggy_ may gang along with me, my cabin for to view. if she continues one hour with me, thy true and constant wife; then shalt thou have my ship and be, a merchant all thy life. the fidler was content, he danc'd and leap'd for joy; and twang'd his fiddle in merriment, for _peggy_ he thought was coy. then _peggy_ she went along, his cabin for to view; and after her the merchant-man, did follow, we found it true. when they were once together, the fidler was afraid; for he crep'd near in pitious fear, and thus to _peggy_ he said. hold out, sweet _peggy_ hold out, for the space of two half hours; if thou hold out, i make no doubt, but the ship and goods are ours. in troth, sweet _robin_, i cannot, he hath got me about the middle; he's lusty and strong, and hath laid me along, o _robin_ thou'st lost thy fiddle. if i have lost my fiddle, then am i a man undone; my fiddle whereon i so often play'd, away i needs must run. o stay the merchant said, and thou shalt keep thy place; and thou shalt have thy fiddle again, but _peggy_ shall carry the case. poor _robin_ hearing that, he look'd with a merry-chear; his wife she was pleas'd, and the merchant was eas'd, and jolly and brisk they were. the fidler he was mad, but valu'd it not a fig; then _peggy_ unto her husband said, kind _robin_ play us a jigg. then he took up his fiddle, and merrily he did play; the _scottish jigg_ and the _horn pipe_, and eke the _irish hey_. it was but in vain to grieve, the deed it was done and past; poor _robin_ was born to carry the horn, for _peggy_ could not be chast. then fidlers all beware, your wives are kind you see; and he that's made for the fidling trade, must never a merchant be. for _peggy_ she knew right well, although she was but a woman; that gamesters drink, and fidlers wives, they are ever free and common. _the unconstant_ woman. [music] did you not hear of a gallant sailor, whose pockets they were lin'd with gold; he fell in love with a pretty creature, as i to you the truth unfold: with a kind salute, and without dispute, he thought to gain her for his own, _unconstant woman proves true to no man,_ _she has gone and left me all alone._ don't you remember my pretty _peggy_, the oaths and vows which you made to me: all in the chamber we were together, that you would ne'er unconstant be: but you prove strange love, and from me range, and leave me here to sigh and moan; _unconstant woman is true to no man,_ _she's gone and left me all alone._ as i have gold you shall have treasure, or any dainty kind of thing; thou may'st command all delights and pleasure, and what you'd have, love, i would you bring: but you prove shy, and at last deny, him that admires you alone; _unconstant woman proves true to no man,_ _she's left me here to make my moan._ when first i saw your charming beauty, i stood like one all in amaze; i study'd only how to pay duty, and could not speak but only gaze, at last said i, fair maid comply, and ease a wretched lover's moan; _unconstant woman proves true to no man,_ _she's gone and left me here alone._ i made her presents of rings and jewels, with diamond stones i gave her too; she took them kindly, and call'd me jewel, and said her love to me was true: but in the end she prov'd unkind, when i thought she had been my own; _unconstant woman_, &c. for three months time we saw each other, and she oft said she'd be my wife; i had her father's consent and mother, i thought to have liv'd a happy life: she'd laugh and toy both night and day, but at length she chang'd her tone; _unconstant woman, proves true to no man,_ _she's left me now to make my moan._ many a time we have walk'd together, both hand in hand to an arbour green; where tales of love in sun-shiny weather, we did discourse and were not seen: with a kind salute we did dispute, while we together were alone: _unconstant woman she's true to no man,_ _she's gone and left me here alone._ since _peggy_ has my kindness slighted, i'll never trust a woman more; 'twas in her alone i e'er delighted, but since she's false i'll leave the shoar: in ship i'll enter, on seas i'll venture, and sail the world where i'm not known: _unconstant woman proves true to no man,_ _she's gone and left me here alone._ _sorrow banish'd in a_ mug. _the words_ _by sir_ edward morgan. [music] if sorrow the tyrant invade thy breast, haul out the foul fiend by the lug, the lug, let nought of to morrow disturb thy rest, but dash out his brains with a mug, a mug. if business unluckily goes not well, let the fond fools their affections hug, to shew our allegiance we'll go to the bell, and banish despair in a mug, a mug. if thy wife proves not one of the best, the best, but admits no time but to think, to think; or the weight of thy forehead bow down thy crest, divert the dull _damon_ with drink, with drink, if miss prove peevish and will not gee, ne'er pine, ne'er pine at the wanton pug, but find out a fairer, a kinder than she, and banish dispair in a mug, a mug. if dear assignation be crost, be crost, and mistress go home in a rage, a rage; let not thy poor heart like a ship be tost, but with a brisk brimmer engage, engage: what if the fine fop and the mask fall out. and the one hug, and t'other tug, while they pish and fie, we will frolick in stout, and banish all care in a mug, a mug. if toying young _damon_ by _sylvia's_ charms, at length should look pale and perplexed be; to cure the distemper and ease those harms, go straight to the _globe_ and ask number three: there beauties like _venus_ thou canst not lack, be kind to them, they will sweetly hug; there's choice of the fairest, the brown or the black. then banish despair in a mug, a mug. let then no misfortune e'er make thee dull, but drink away care in a jug, a jug; then let not thy tide steal away, but pull, carouse away though in a mug, a mug: while others for greatness and fortune's doom, while they for their ambition tug; we'll sit close and snug in a sea-coal room, and banish despair in a mug, a mug. let zealots o'er coffee new plots devise, and lace with fresh treason the pagan drug; whilst our loyal blood flows our veins shall shine, like our faces inspir'd with a mug, a mug: let sectaries dream of alarms, alarms, and fools still for new changes tug; while fam'd for our loyalty we'll stand to our arms, and drink the king's health in a mug, a mug. come then to the queen let the next advance, and all loyal lads of true _english_ race; who hate the stum poison of _spain_ and _france_, or to _bourdeux_ or _burgundy_ do give place; the flask and the bottle breeds ach and gout, whilst we, we all the season lie snug; neither _spaniard_ nor _flemming_, can vie with our stout, and shall submit to the mug, the mug. _the good fellow. words by mr._ alex. brome. [music] stay, stay, shut the gates, t'other quart, faith, it is not so late as you're thinking, those stars which you see, in this hemisphere be, but the studs in your cheeks by your drinking: the sun is gone to tiple all night in the sea boys, to morrow he'll blush that he's paler than we boys, drink wine, give him water, 'tis sack makes us jee boys. fill, fill up the glass, to the next merry lad let it pass, come away with't: come set foot to foot, and but give our minds to't, 'tis heretical six that doth slay wit, no helicon like to the juice of the vine is, for _phoebus_ had never had wit, nor diviness, had his face been bow dy'd as thine, his, and mine is. drink, drink off your bowls, we'll enrich both our heads and our souls with canary; a carbuncled face, saves a tedious race, for the _indies_ about us we carry: then hang up good faces, we'll drink till our noses give freedom to speak what our fancy disposes, beneath whose protection is under the roses. this, this must go round, off your hats, till that the pavement be crown'd with your beavers; a red-coated face, frights a searjeant at mace, and the constable trembles to shivers: in state march our faces like those of the _quorum_, when the wenches fall down and the vulgar adore'em, and our noses, like link-boys, run shining before'em. _the nymphs holiday. the tune of the nightingale._ [music] upon a holiday, when nymphs had leave to play, i walk'd unseen, on a pleasant green, where i heard a maid in an angry spleen, complaining to a swain, to leave his drudging pain, and sport with her upon the plain; but he the silly clown, regardless of her moan, did leave her all alone, still she cry'd, come away, come away bonny lad come away, i cannot come, i will not come, i cannot come, my work's not done, was all the words this clown did say. she vex'd in her mind to hear this lad's reply, to _venus_ she went, in great discontent, to desire her boy with his bow ready bent, to take a nimble dart, and strike him to the heart, for disobeying her commandment: _cupid_ then gave the swain such a bang, as made him to gang with this bonny lass along, still she cry'd, come away, come away bonny lad, come hither, i come, i come, i come, i come, i come, i come, so they gang'd along together. _good honest trooper take warning by_ donald cooper. _to the tune of_ daniel cooper. [music] a bonny lad came to the court, his name was _donald cooper_, and he petition'd to the king, that he might be a trooper: he said that he, by land and sea, had fought to admiration, and with _montross_ had many blows, both for his king and nation. the king did his petition grant, and said he lik'd him dearly, which gave to _donald_ more content, than twenty shillings yearly: this wily leard rode in the guard, and lov'd a strong beer barrel; yet stout enough, to fight and cuff, but was not given to quarrel. till on a _saturday_ at night, he walked in the park, sir; and there he kenn'd a well fair lass, when it was almost dark, sir; poor _donald_ he drew near to see, and kist her bonny mow, sir; he laid her flat upon her back, and bang'd her side weam too, sir. he took her by the lilly white hand, and kiss'd his bonny _mary_, then they did to the tavern go, where they did drink canary; when he was drunk, in came a punck, and ask'd gan he would mow her; then he again, with might and main, did bravely lay her o'er, sir. poor _donald_ he rose up again, as nothing did him ail, sir; but little kenn'd this bonny lass, had fire about her tail, sir: when night was spent then home he went, and told it with a hark, sir; how he did kiss a dainty miss, and lifted up the sark, sir. but e'er a month had gone about, poor _donald_ walked sadly: and every yean enquir'd of him, what gar'd him leuk so badly: a wench, quoth he, gave snuff to me, out of her placket box, sir; and i am sure, she prov'd a whore, and given to me the pox, sir. poor _donald_ he being almost dead, was turn'd out of the guard, sir; and never could get in again, although he was a leard, sir: when _mars_ doth meet, with _venus_ sweet, and struggles to surrender; the triumph's lost, then never trust a feminine commander. poor _donald_ he went home again, because he lost his place, sir; for playing of a game at whisk, and turning up an ace, sir; ye soldiers all, both great and small, a foot-man or a trooper; when you behold, a wench that's bold remember _donald cooper_. _the jovial drinker._ [music] a pox on those fools, who exclaim against wine, and fly the dear sweets that the bottle doth bring; it heightens the fancy, the wit does refine, and he that was first drunk was made the first king. by the help of good claret old age becomes youth, and sick men still find this the only physitian; drink largely, you'll know by experience, the truth, that he that drinks most is the best politician. to victory this leads on the brave cavalier, and makes all the terrors of war, but delight; this flushes his courage, and beats off base fear, 'twas that taught _cæsar_ and _pompey_ to fight. this supports all our friends, and knocks down our foes, this makes us all loyal men from courtier to clown; like _dutchmen_ from brandy, from this our strength grows so 'tis wine, noble wine, that's a friend to the crown. _the sexton's_ song. _sung by_ ben. johnson, _in the play of_ hamlet _prince of_ denmark, _acting the_ _grave maker._ [music] once more to these arms my lov'd pick-ax and spade, with the rest of the tools that belong to my trade; i that buried others am rose from the dead, _with a ring, a ring, ring, a ring, and dig a dig, dig._ my thoughts are grown easie, my mind is at rest, since things at the worst are now grown to the best, and i and the worms that long fasted shall feast, _with a ring_, &c. how i long to be measuring and cleaving the ground, and commending the soil for the sculls shall be found, whose thickness alone, not the soil makes them sound, _with a ring_, &c. look you masters, i'll cry, may the saints ne'er me save, if this ben't as well contriv'd sort of a grave, as a man could wish on such occasion to have, _with a ring_, &c. observe but the make of't, i'll by you be try'd, and the coffin so fresh there that lies on that side, it's fifty years since he that owns it has dy'd. _with a ring_, &c. i hope to remember your friend in a bowl, an honest good gentleman, god rest his soul, he has that for a ducket is worth a pistole, _with a ring_, &c. at marriages next i'll affirm it and swear, if the bride would be private so great was my care, that not a soul knew that the priest joyn'd the pair, _with a ring_, &c. when i myself whisper'd and told it about what door they'd go in at, what door they'd go out, to receive the salutes of the rabble and rout, _with a ring_, &c. at chris'nings i'll sit with abundance of joy, and drink to the health of the girl or the boy, at the same i wish that fate both would destroy, _that i may ring_, &c. what e'er's my religion, my meaning's to thrive, so the child that is born, to the font but survive, no matter how short it's continuance alive, _that i may ring_, &c. hear then my good neighbours attend to my cry, and bravely get children, and decently die, no sexton now breathing shall use you as i, _with a ring a ring, ring a ring, dig a dig, dig._ _the great_ boobee. [music] my friend if you would understand, my fortunes what they are; i once had cattle house and land, but now i am never the near: my father left a good estate, as i may tell to thee; i couzened was of all i had, _like a great boobee_. i went to school with a good intent, and for to learn my book; and all the day i went to play, in it i never did look: full seven years, or very nigh, as i may tell to thee; i could hardly say my criss-cross-row, _like a great boobee_. my father then in all the hast, did set me to the plow; and for to lash the horse about, indeed i knew not how: my father took his whip in hand, and soundly lashed me; he called me fool and country clown, _and a great boobee_. but i did from my father run, for i would plow no more; because he had so lashed me, and made my sides so sore: but i will go to _london_ town, some fashions for to see; when i came there they call'd me clown, _and a great boobee_. but as i went along the street, i carried my hat in my hand, and to every one that i did meet, i bravely buss'd my hand: some did laugh, and some did scoff, and some did mock at me; and some did say i was a woodcock, _and a great boobee_. then i did walk in hast to _paul's_ the steeple for to view; because i heard some people say, it should be builded new; then i got up unto the top, the city for to see; it was so high it made me cry, _like a great boobee_. from thence i went to _westminster_, and for to see the tombs: oh, said i, what a house is here, with an infinite sight of rooms: sweetly the abby bells did ring, it was a fine sight to see; methought i was going to heav'n in a string, _like a great boobee_. but as i went along the street, the most part of the day; many gallants i did meet, methought they were very gay: i blew my nose and pist my hose, some people did me see: they said i was a beastly fool: _and a great boobee_. next day i thro' _pye-corner_ past, the roast-meat on the stall; invited me to take a taste, my money was but small: the meat i pickt, the cook me kickt, as i may tell to thee; he beat me sore and made me roar, _like a great boobee_. as i thro' _smithfield_ lately walkt, a gallant lass i met: familiarly with me she talk't, which i cannot forget: she proferr'd me a pint of wine, methought she was wondrous free, to the tavern then i went with her, _like a great boobee_. she told me we were near of kin, and call'd for wine good store; before the reckoning was brought in, my cousin prov'd a whore: my purse she pickt, and went away, my cousin couzened me, the vintner kickt me out of door; _like a great boobee_. at the _exchange_ when i came there, i saw most gallant things; i thought the pictures living were, of all our english kings: i doft my hat and made a leg, and kneeled on my knee; the people laugh'd and call'd me fool, _and a great boobee_. to _paris-garden_ then i went, where there is great resort; my pleasure was my punishment, i did not like the sport: the garden-bull with his stout horns, on high then tossed me; i did bewray my self with fear, _like a great boobee_. the bearward went to save me then, the people flock'd about; i told the bear-garden-men, my guts they were almost out: they said i stunk most grievously, no man would pity me; they call'd me witless fool and ass, _and a great boobee_. then o'er the water i did pass, as you shall understand; i dropt into the thames, alass, before i came to land: the waterman did help me out, and thus did say to me; 'tis not thy fortune to be drown'd, _like a great boobee_. but i have learned so much wit, shall shorten all my cares; if i can but a licence get, to play before the bears: 'twould be a gallant place indeed, as i may tell to thee: then who dares call me fool or ass, _or great boobee_. _set by mr._ jeremiah clark, _sung by mr._ leveridge. [music] when maids live to thirty, yet never repented, when _europe's_ at peace and all _england_ contented, when gamesters won't swear, and no bribery thrives, young wives love old husbands, young husbands old wives; when landlords love taxes, and soldiers love peace: and lawyers forget a rich client to fleece: when an old face shall please as well as a new, wives, husbands, and lovers will ever be true. when bullies leave huffing and cowards their trembling, and courtiers and women and priests their dissembling, when these shall do nothing against what they teach, pluralities hate, and we mind what they preach: when vintners leave brewing to draw the wine pure, and quacks by their medicines kill less than they cure, when an old face shall please as well as a new, wives, husbands and lovers will ever be true. _words to a tune of_ mr. barret's, _call'd the_ catherine. [music] in the pleasant month of _may_, when the merry, merry birds began to sing; and the blossoms fresh and gay; usher'd in the welcome spring, when the long cold winter's gone, and the bright enticing moon, in the evening sweetly shon: when the bonny men and maids tript it on the grass; at a jolly country fair, when the nymphs in the best appear; we resolv'd to be free, with a fiddle and a she, e'ery shepherd and his lass. in the middle of the sport, when the fiddle went brisk and the glass went round, and the pretty gay nymphs for court, with their merry feet beat the ground; little _cupid_ arm'd unseen, with a bow and dart stole in, with a conquering air and mien, and empty'd his bow thro' the nymphs and the swains; e'ery shepherd and his mate, soon felt their pleasing fate, and longing to try in enjoyment to die, love reign'd o'er all the plains. now the sighing swain gave o'er, and the wearied nymphs could dance no more, there were other thoughts that mov'd, e'ery pretty kind pair that lov'd: in the woods the shepherds lay, and mourn'd the time away, and the nymphs as well as they, long'd to taste what it is that their senses cloys, till at last by consent of eyes, e'ery swain with his pretty nymph flies, e'ery buxom she retires with her he, to act love's solid joys. _a_ scotch song. _sung by mrs._ lucas _at the old_ theatre. [music] by moon-light on the green, our bonny lasses cooing; and dancing there i've seen, who seem'd alone worth wooing: her skin like driven snow, her hair brown as a berry: her eyes black as a slow, her lips red as a cherry. oh how she tript it, skipt it, leapt it, stept it, whiskt it, friskt it, whirld it, twirl'd it, swimming, springing, starting: so quick, the tune to nick, with a heave and a toss: and a jerk at parting, with a heave, and a toss, and a jerk at parting. as she sat down i bowed, and veil'd my bonnet to her; then took her from the crowd, with honey words to woo her; sweet blithest lass, quoth i, it being bleaky weather: i prithee let us try, another dance together; _oh how she_, &c. whilst suing thus i stood, quoth she, pray leave your fooling; some dancing heats the blood, but yours i fear lacks cooling: still for a dance i pray'd, and we at last had seven; and whilst the fiddle play'd, she thought her self in heaven, _oh how she_, &c. at last she with a smile, to dance again desir'd me; quoth i, pray stay a while, for now good faith ye've tir'd me: with that she look'd on me, and sigh'd with muckle sorrow; than gang ye'ar gate, quoth she, but dance again to morrow. _the_ quaker's song. _sung by mrs._ willis _at the new play-house._ [music] amongst the pure ones all, which conscience doth profess; and yet that sort of conscience, doth practice nothing less: i mean the sect of those elect, that loath to live by merit; that leads their lives with other mens wives, according unto the spirit. one met with a holy sister of ours, a saint who dearly lov'd him: and fain he would have kiss'd her, because the spirit mov'd him: but she deny'd, and he reply'd, you're damn'd unless you do it; therefore consent, do not repent, for the spirit doth move me to it. she not willing to offend, poor soul, yielded unto his motion; and what these two did intend, was out of pure devotion: to lye with a friend and a brother, she thought she shou'd die no sinner, but e'er five months were past, the spirit was quick within her. but what will the wicked say, when they shall here of this rumour; they'd laugh at us every day, and scoff us in every corner: let 'em do so still if that they will, we mean not to follow their fashion, they're none of our sect, nor of our elect, nor none of our congregation. but when the time was come, that she was to be laid; it was no very great crime, committed by her they said: 'cause they did know, and she did show, 'twas done by a friend and a brother, but a very great sin they said it had been, if it had been done by another. _a_ song. [music] as oyster _nan_ stood by her tub, to shew her vicious inclination; she gave her noblest parts a scrub, and sigh'd for want of copulation: a vintner of no little fame, who excellent red and white can sell ye, beheld the little dirty dame, as she stood scratching of her belly. come in, says he, you silly slut, 'tis now a rare convenient minute; i'll lay the itching of your scut, except some greedy devil be in it: with that the flat-capt fusby smil'd, and would have blush'd, but that she cou'd not; alass! says she, we're soon beguil'd, by men to do those things we shou'd not. from door they went behind the bar, as it's by common fame reported; and there upon a turkey chair, unseen the loving couple sported: but being call'd by company, as he was taking pains to please her; i'm coming, coming sir, says he, my dear, and so am i, says she, sir. her mole-hill belly swell'd about, into a mountain quickly after; and when the pretty mouse crept out, the creature caus'd a mighty laughter: and now she has learnt the pleasing game, altho' much pain and shame it cost her; she daily ventures at the same, and shuts and opens like an oyster. _the_ irish _jigg: or, the night ramble._ [music] one night in my ramble i chanc'd to see, a thing like a spirit, it frightened me; i cock'd up my hat and resolv'd to look big, and streight fell a tuning the _irish jigg_. the devil drew nearer and nearer in short, i found it was one of the petticoat sort; my fears being over, i car'd not a fig, but still i kept tuning the _irish jigg_. and then i went to her, resolving to try her; i put her agog of a longing desire; i told her i'd give her a whip for her gig, and a scourge to the tune of the _irish jigg_. then nothing but dancing our fancy could please, we lay on the grass and danc'd at our ease; i down'd with my breeches and off with my whigg, and we fell a dancing the _irish jigg_. i thank you, kind sir, for your kindness, said she, the scholar's as wise as the master can be; for if you should chance to get me with kid, i'll lay the poor brat to the _irish jigg_. the dance being ended as you may see, we rose by consent and we both went away; i put on my cloaths and left her to grow big, and so i went roaring the _irish jigg_. _a_ song. [music] it was a happy golden day, when fair _althea_ kind and gay, put all but love and me away; i arm'd with soft words did address, sweet and kind kisses far express, a greater joy and happiness. nature the best instructeress cry'd, her ivory pillows to divide, that love might sail with wind and tide; she rais'd the mast and sail'd by it, that day two tides together met, drove him on shore soon dropping wet. _a_ song. [music] ah! _cælia_ how can you be cruel and fair? since removing, the charms that are loving, 'twould make a poor lover despair; 'tis true, i have lov'd you these seven long years & more, too long for a man that ne'er was in love before: and if longer you my caresses deny, i then am resolv'd to give over my flames and die. love fires the heart of him that is brave, charms the spirit of him that is merit, and makes the poor lover a slave; dull sordid souls that never knew how to love, where nature is plung'd, 'tis a shame to the best above: and if any longer you my caresses deny, i then am resolv'd to give over my flames and die. _a_ song. [music] there was a knight and he was young, a riding along the way, sir; and there he met a lady fair, among the cocks of hay, sir: quoth he, shall you and i lady, among the grass lye down a; and i will have a special care, of rumpling of your gown a. if you will go along with me, unto my father's hall, sir; you shall enjoy my maiden-head, and my estate and all, sir: so he mounted her on a milk-white steed, himself upon another; and then they rid upon the road, like sister and like brother. and when she came to her father's house, which was moated round about, sir; she stepped streight within the gate, and shut this young knight out, sir, here is a purse of gold, she said, take it for your pains, sir; and i will send my father's man, to go home with you again, sir. and if you meet a lady fair, as you go thro' the next town, sir; you must not fear the dew of the grass, nor the rumpling of her gown, sir: and if you meet a lady gay, as you go by the hill, sir; if you will not when you may, you shall not when you will, sir. there is a dew upon the grass, will spoil your damask gown a; which has cost your father dear, many shilling and a crown a: there is a wind blows from the _west_, soon will dry the ground a; and i will have a special care, of the rumpling of my gown a. _a_ song. [music] slaves to _london_ i'll deceive you, for the country now i leave you: who can bear, and not be mad, wine so dear, and yet so bad: such a noise and air so smoaky, that to stun, this to choak ye; men so selfish, false and rude, nymphs so young and yet so lew'd. quiet harmless country pleasure, shall at home engross my leisure; farewel _london_, i'll repair, to my native country air: i leave all thy pleasures behind me, but at home my wife will find me; oh the gods! 'tis ten times worse, _london_ is a milder curse. _the duke of_ ormond's _march._ _set by mr._ church. [music] ye brave boys and tars, that design for the wars, remember the action at _vigo_; and where ormond commands, let us all joyn our hands, _and where he goes, may you go, and i go_. let conquest and fame, the honour proclaim, great ormond has gotten at _vigo_; let the trumpets now sound, and the ecchoes around, _where he goes, may you go, and i go_. let the glories be sung, which the ormonds have won, long before this great action at _vigo_; they're so loyal and just, and so true to their trust, _that where he goes, may you go, and i go_. old records of fame, of the ormonds great name, their actions, like these were of _vigo_; and since this prince exceeds, in his fore-father's deeds, _then where he goes, may you go, and i go_. 'tis the praise of our crown, that such men of renown, shou'd lead on the van, as at _vigo_; where such lives and estates are expos'd for our sakes, _then where he goes, may you go, and i go_. 'twas the whole nation's voice, and we all did rejoyce, when we heard he commanded for _vigo_; to anna so true, all her foes to pursue, _then where he goes, may you go, and i go_. 'tis the voice of the town, and our zeal for the crown, to serve ormond to _france_, _spain_, or _vigo_; so noble and brave, both to conquer and save, _then where he goes, may you go, and i go_. to the soldiers so kind, and so humbly inclin'd, to wave his applause gain'd at _vigo_; yet so kind and so true, he gave all men their due, _then where he goes, may you go, and i go_. we justly do own, all the honour that's won, in _flanders_, as well as at _vigo_; but our subject and theme, is of ormond's great name, _and where he goes, may you go, and i go_. then take off the bowl, to that generous soul, that commanded so bravely at _vigo_; and may anna approve, of our duty and love, _and where he goes, may you go, and i go_. _a cure for melancholy._ [music] are you grown so melancholy, that you think on nought but folly; are you sad, are you mad, are you worse; do you think, want of chink is a curse: do you wish for to have, longer life, or a grave, _thus would i cure ye_. first i would have a bag of gold, that should ten thousand pieces hold, and all that, in thy hat, would i pour; for to spend, on thy friend, or thy whore: for to cast away at dice, or to shift you of your lice, _thus would i cure ye_. next i would have a soft bed made, wherein a virgin should be laid; that would play, any way you'll devise; that would stick like a tick, to your thighs, that would bill like a dove, lye beneath or above, _thus would i cure ye_. next that same bowl, where _jove_ divine, drank _nectar_ in, i'd fill with wine; that whereas, you should pause, you should quaff; like a _greek_, till your cheek, to _ceres_ and to _venus_, to _bacchus_ and _silenus_, _thus would i cure ye_. last of all there should appear, seven eunuchs sphere-like singing here, in the praise, of those ways, of delights; _venus_ can, use with man, in the night; when he strives to adorn, _vulcan's_ head with a horn, _thus would i cure ye_. but if not gold, nor woman can, nor wine, nor songs, make merry then; let the batt, be thy mate, and the owl; let a pain, in thy brain, make thee howl; let the pox be thy friend, and the plague work thy end, _thus i would cure you_. _to his fairest_ valentine _mrs._ a.l. [music] come pretty birds present your lays, and learn to chaunt a goddess praise; ye wood-nymphs let your voices be, employ'd to serve her deity: and warble forth, ye virgins nine, _some musick to my_ valentine. her bosom is loves paradise, there is no heav'n but in her eyes; she's chaster than the turtle-dove, and fairer than the queen of love; yea, all perfections do combine, to beautifie my valentine. she's nature's choicest cabinet, where honour, beauty, worth and wit, are all united in her breast, the graces claim an interest: all vertues that are most divine, shine clearest in my valentine. _a_ ballad, _or_, collin's _adventure._ [music] as _collin_ went from his sheep to unfold, in a morning of _april_, as grey as 'twas cold, in a thicket he heard a voice it self spread; which was, o, o, _i am almost dead_. he peep'd in the bushes, and spy'd where there lay his mistress, whose countenance made _april may_; but in her looks some sadness was read, crying o, o, _i am almost dead_. he rush'd in to her, and cry'd what's the matter, ah! _collin_, quoth she, why will you come at her, who by the false swain, hath often been misled, for which o, o, _i am almost dead_. he turn'd her milk-pail, and there down he sat, his hands stroak'd his beard, on his knee lay his coat, but, o, still _mopsa_ cry'd, before ought was said, _collin_, o, o, _i am almost dead_. no more, quoth stout _collin_! i ever was true, thou gav'st me a handkerchief all hemm'd with blue: a pin-box i gave thee, and a girdle so red, yet still she cry'd, o, o, _i am almost dead_. delaying, quoth she, hath made me thus ill, for i never fear'd _sarah_ that dwelt at the mill, since in the ev'ning late her hogs thou hast fed, for which, o, o, _i am almost dead_. _collin_ then chuck'd her under the chin, cheer up for to love thee i never will lin, says she, i'll believe it when the parson has read, 'till then, o, o, _i am almost dead_. uds boars, quoth _collin_, i'll new my shon, and e'er the week pass, by the mass it shall be done: you might have done this before, then she said, but now, o, o, _i am almost dead_. he gave her a twitch that quite turn'd her round, and said, i'm the truest that e'er trod on ground, come settle thy milk-pail fast on thy head, no more o, o, _i am almost dead_. why then i perceive thoul't not leave me in the lurch, i'll don my best cloths and streight to the church: jog on, merry _collin_, jog on before, for i faith, i faith, _i'll dye no more_. _the_ town-rakes, _a_ song: _set by mr._ daniel purcell: _sung by mr._ edwards. [music] what life can compare with the jolly town rakes, when in his full swing of all pleasure he takes? at noon he gets up for a wet and to dine, and wings the swift hours with mirth, musick, and wine, then jogs to the play-house and chats with the masques, and thence to the _rose_ where he takes his three flasks, there great as a _cæsar_ he revels when drunk, and scours all he meets as he reels, as he reels to his punk, and finds the dear girl in his arms when he wakes, what life can compare to the jolly town-rakes, the jolly town-rakes. he like the great turk has his favourite she, but the town's his _seraglio_, and still he lives free; sometimes she's a lady, but as he must range, black _betty_, or oyster _moll_ serve for a change: as he varies his sports his whole life is a feast, he thinks him that is soberest is most like a beast: all houses of pleasure, breaks windows and doors, kicks bullies and cullies, then lies with their whores: rare work for the surgeon and midwife he makes, what life can compare with the jolly town-rakes. thus in _covent-garden_ he makes his campaigns, and no coffee-house haunts but to settle his brains; he laughs at dry mortals, and never does think, unless 'tis to get the best wenches and drink: he dwells in a tavern, and lives ev'ry where, and improving his hour, lives an age in a year: for as life is uncertain, he loves to make haste, and thus he lives longest because he lives fast: then leaps in the dark, and his _exit_ he makes, what death can compare with the jolly town-rakes. _a_ song: _set by mr._ clarke. [music] young _coridon_ and _phillis_ sate in a lovely grove; contriving crowns of lillies, repeating tales of love: _and something else, but what i dare not_, &c. but as they were a playing, she oagled so the swain; it say'd her plainly saying, let's kiss to ease our pain: _and something else_, &c. a thousand times he kiss'd her, laying her on the green; but as he farther press'd her, her pretty leg was seen: _and something else_, &c. so many beauties removing, his ardour still increas'd; and greater joys pursuing, he wander'd o'er her breast: _and something else_, &c. a last effort she trying, his passion to withstand; cry'd, but it was faintly crying, pray take away your hand: _and something else_, &c. young _coridon_ grown bolder, the minute would improve; this is the time he told her, to shew you how i love; _and something else_, &c. the nymph seem'd almost dying, dissolv'd in amorous heat; she kiss'd, and told him sighing, my dear your love is great: _and something else_, &c. but _phillis_ did recover much sooner than the swain; she blushing ask'd her lover, shall we not kiss again: _and something else_, &c. thus love his revels keeping, 'till nature at a stand; from talk they fell to sleeping, holding each others hand; _and something else_, &c. _the amorous_ barber's _passion of love for his dear_ bridget. [music] with my strings of small wire lo i come, and a cittern made of wood; and a song altho' you are deaf and dumb, may be heard and understood. _dumb, dumb_---- oh! take pity on me, my dear, me thy slave, and me thy vassal, and be not cruel, as it were, like to some strong and well built old castle. _dumb, dumb_---- lest as thou passest along the street, braver every day and braver; every one that does thee meet, will say there goes a woman-shaver. _dumb, dumb_---- and again will think fit, and to say they will determine; there goes she that with tongue killed clip-chops, as a man with his thumbs kill vermine. _dumb, dumb_---- for if thou dost then, farewel pelf, farewel _bridget_, for i vow i'll: either in my bason hang my self, or drown me in my towel, _dumb, dumb_---- _a_ ballad, _made by a gentleman in_ ireland, _who could not have access to a lady whom he went to visit, because the maid the night before had over-laid her pretty bitch. to the tune of_, o hone, o hone. [music] oh! let no eyes be dry, _oh hone, oh hone_, but let's lament and cry, _oh hone, o hone_, we're quite undone almost, for _daphne_ on this coast, has yielded up the ghost, _oh hone, o hone_. _daphne_ my dearest bitch, _oh hone, o hone_, who did all dogs bewitch, _oh hone_, &c. was by a careless maid, pox take her for a jade, in the night over-laid, _oh hone_, &c. oh may she never more _oh hone_, &c. sleep quietly, but snore, _oh hone_, &c. may never irish lad, sue for her maiden-head, until it stinks i gad, _oh hone_, &c. oh may she never keep _oh hone, oh hone_; her water in her sleep, _oh hone, oh hone_: may never pence nor pounds, come more within the bounds, of her pocket ad-sounds, _oh hone, oh hone_. damon _forsaken. set by mr._ wroth. [music] when that young _damon_ bless'd my heart, and in soft words did move; how did i hug the pleasing dart, and thank'd the god of love: _cupid_, said i, my best lov'd lamb, that in my bosom lives: to thee, for kindling this dear flame, to thee, kind god, i'll give. but prying friends o'er-heard my vow, and murmur'd in my ear; _damon_ hath neither flocks nor plough, girl what thou dost beware: they us'd so long their cursed art, and damn'd deluding sham; that i agreed with them to part, nor offer'd up my lamb. _cupid_ ask'd for his offering, 'cause i refus'd to pay; he took my _damon_ on his wing, and carry'd him quite away: pitch'd him before _olinda's_ charms, those wonders of the plain; commanding her into her arms, to take the dearest swain. the envy'd nymph, soon, soon obey'd, and bore away the prize; 'tis well she did, for had she stay'd, i'd snatch'd him from her eyes: my lamb was with gay garlands dress'd, the pile prepar'd to burn; hoping that if the god appeas'd, my _damon_ might return. but oh! in vain he's gone, he's gone, _phillis_ he can't be thine; i by obedience am undone, was ever fate like mine: _olinda_ do, try all thy charms, yet i will have a part; for whilst you have him in your arms, i'll have him in my heart. _the apparition to the jilted lover. set by mr._ wroth. [music] think wretched mortal, think no more, how to prolong thy breath: for thee there are no joys in store, but in a welcome death: then seek to lay thee under ground, the grave cures all despair; and healeth every bitter wound, giv'n by th' ungrateful fair. how cou'dst thou faith in woman think, women are _syrens_ all; and when men in loves ocean sink, take pride to see 'em fall: women were never real yet, but always truth despise: constant to nothing but deceit, false oaths and flattering lies. ah! _coridon_ bid life adieu, the gods will thee prefer; their gates are open'd wide for you, but bolted against her: do thou be true, you vow'd to love, _phillis_ or death you'll have; now since the nymph doth perjured prove, be just unto the grave. _a_ song. [music] heaven first created woman to be kind, both to be belov'd, and for to love; if you contradict what heav'n has design'd, you'll be contemn'd by all the pow'rs above: then no more dispute me, for i am rashly bent, to subject your beauty to kind nature's duty, let me than salute you by consent. arguments and fair intreats did i use, but with her consent could not prevail; she the blessing modestly would still refuse, seeming for to slight my amorous tale: sometimes she would cry sir, prithee dear be good, oh sir, pray sir, why sir? pray now, nay now, fye sir, i would sooner die sir, than be rude. i began to treat her then another way, modestly i melted with a kiss; she then blushing look'd like the rising day, fitting for me to attempt the bliss: i gave her a fall sir, she began to tear, crying she would call sir, as loud as she could baul sir, but is prov'd as false, sir, as she's fair. ralph's _going to the wars._ [music] to the wars i must alass, though i do not like the game, for i hold him to be an ass, that will lose his life for fame: _for these guns are such pestilent things, to pat a pellet in ones brow; four vurlongs off ch've heard zome zay, ch'ill kill a man he knows not how._ when the bow, bill, zword and dagger, were us'd all in vighting; ch've heard my father swear and swagger, that it was but a flea-biting: _but these guns_, &c. ise would vight with the best of our parish, and play at whisters with _mary_; cou'd thump the vootball, yerk the morrie, and box at visticuffs with any: _but these guns_, &c. varewel _dick_, _tom_, _ralph_ and _hugh_, my maypoles make all heretofore; varewel _doll_, _kate_, _zis_ and _zue_, for i shall never zee you more: _for these guns are such pestilent things, to pat a pellet in ones brow; four vurlongs off ch've heard zome zay, ch'ill kill a man he knows not how._ _a_ song _in praise of punch._ [music] come fill up the bowl with the liquor that fine is, and much more divine is, than now a-days wine is, with all their art, none here can controul: the vintner despising, tho' brandy be rising, 'tis punch that must chear the heart: the lovers complaining, 'twill cure in a trice, and _cælia_ disdaining, shall cease to be nice, _come fill up the bowl_, &c. thus soon you'll discover, the cheat of each lover, when free from all care you'll quickly find, as nature intended 'em willing and kind: _come fill up the bowl_, &c. _a_ song. [music] bonny _peggy ramsey_ that any man may see, and bonny was her face, with a fair freckel'd eye, neat is her body made, and she hath good skill, and square is her wethergig made like a mill: _with a hey trolodel, hey trolodel, hey trolodel lill,_ _bonny_ peggy ramsey _she gives weel her mill._ _peggy_ to the mill is gone to grind a bowl of mault, the mill it wanted water, and was not that a fault; up she pull'd her petticoats and piss'd into the dam, for six days and seven nights she made the mill to gang; _with a hey_, &c. some call her _peggy_, and some call her _jean_, but some calls her midsummer, but they all are mista'en; for _peggy_ is a bonny lass, and grinds well her mill, for she will be occupied when others they lay still: _with a hey_, &c. _peg_, thee and ise grin a poke, and we to war will leanes, ise lay thee flat upon thy back and then lay to the steanes; ise make hopper titter totter, haud the mouth as still, when twa sit, and eane stand, merrily grind the mill: _with a hey_, &c. up goes the clap, and in goes the corn, betwixt twa rough steans _peggy_ not to learn; with a dam full of water that she holdeth still, to pour upon the clap for burning of the mill: _with a hey_, &c. up she pull'd the dam sure and let the water in, the wheel went about, and the mill began to grind: the spindle it was hardy, and the steanes were they well pickt, and the meal fell in the mill trough, and ye may all come lick: _with a hey trolodel, hey trolodel, hey trolodel lill,_ _bonny_ peggy ramsey _she gives weel her mill._ _a_ song. _writ by the famous mr._ nat. lee. _philander_ and _sylvia_, a gentle soft pair, whose business was loving, and kissing their care; in a sweet smelling grove went smiling along, 'till the youth gave a vent to his heart with his tongue: ah _sylvia_! said he, (and sigh'd when he spoke) your cruel resolves will you never revoke? no never, she said, how never, he cry'd, 'tis the damn'd that shall only that sentence abide. she turn'd her about to look all around, then blush'd, and her pretty eyes cast on the ground; she kiss'd his warm cheeks, then play'd with his neck, and urg'd that his reason his passion would check: ah _philander_! she said, 'tis a dangerous bliss, ah! never ask more and i'll give thee a kiss; how never? he cry'd, then shiver'd all o'er, no never, she said, then tripp'd to a bower. she stopp'd at the wicket, he cry'd let me in, she answer'd, i wou'd if it were not a sin; heav'n sees, and the gods will chastise the poor head of _philander_ for this; straight trembling he said, heav'n sees, i confess, but no tell-tales are there, she kiss'd him and cry'd, you're an atheist my dear; and shou'd you prove false i should never endure: how never? he cry'd, and straight down he threw her. her delicate body he clasp'd in his arms, he kiss'd her, he press'd her, heap'd charms upon charms; he cry'd shall i now? no never, she said, your will you shall never enjoy till i'm dead: then as if she were dead, she slept and lay still, yet even in death bequeath'd him a smile: which embolden'd the youth his charms to apply, which he bore still about him to cure those that die. _a_ song. [music] your hay it is mow'd, and your corn is reap'd, your barns will be full, and your hovels heap'd; come, my boys come, come, my boys come, and merrily roar our harvest home: harvest home, harvest home, and merrily roar our harvest home. _come, my boys come_, &c. we ha' cheated the parson, we'll cheat him agen, for why should a blockhead ha' one in ten: one in ten, one in ten, for why should a blockhead ha' one in ten, _one in ten_, &c. for prating too long, like a book learnt sot, 'till pudding and dumpling are burnt to pot: burnt to pot, burnt to pot, 'till pudding and dumpling are burnt to pot. _burnt to pot_, &c. we'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand, and hey for the honour of old _england_; old _england_, old _england_, and hey for the honour of old _england_, _old_ england, _&c._ _a_ song. [music] i prithee send me back my heart, since i cannot have thine: for if from yours you will not part, why then should you have mine. yet now i think on't, let it be, to send it me is vain; thou hast a thief in either eye, will steal it back again. why should two hearts in one breast be, and yet not be together; or love, where is thy sympathy, if thou our hearts do sever? but love is such a mystery, i cannot find it out; for when i think i am best resolv'd, then i am most in doubt. then farewel care, then farewel woe, i will no longer pine; but i'll believe i have her heart, as well as she hath mine. bacchus _turn'd doctor. the words by_ ben. johnson. [music] let soldiers fight for pay and praise, and money be misers wish; poor scholars study all their days, and gluttons glory in their dish: _'tis wine, pure wine, revives sad souls,_ _therefore give us chearing bowls._ let minions marshal in their hair, and in a lover's lock delight; and artificial colours wear, we have the native red and white. _'tis wine_, &c. your pheasant, pout, and culver salmon, and how to please your palates think: give us a salt _westphalia-gammon_, not meat to eat, but meat to drink. _'tis wine_, &c. it makes the backward spirits brave, that lively, that before was dull; those grow good fellows that are grave, and kindness flows from cups brim full, _'tis wine_, &c. some have the ptysick, some the rhume, some have the palsie, some the gout; some swell with fat, and some consume, but they are sound that drink all out. _'tis wine_, &c. some men want youth, and some want health, some want a wife, and some a punk; some men want wit, and some want wealth, but he wants nothing that is drunk. _'tis wine, pure wine, revives sad souls,_ _therefore give us chearing bowls._ jenny _making hay._ [music] poor _jenny_ and i we toiled, in a long summer's day; till we were almost foiled, with making of the hay; her kerchief was of holland clear, bound low upon her brow; ise whisper'd something in her ear, _but what's that to you?_ her stockings were of kersey green, well stitcht with yellow silk; oh! sike a leg was never seen, her skin as white as milk: her hair as black as any crow, and sweet her mouth was too; oh _jenny_ daintily can mow, _but_, &c. her petticoats were not so low, as ladies they do wear them; she needed not a page i trow, for i was by to bear them: ise took them up all in my hand, and i think her linnen too; which made me for to make a stand; _but_, &c. king _solomon_ had wives enough, and concubines a number; yet ise possess more happiness, and he had more of cumber; my joys surmount a wedded life, with fear she lets me mow her; a wench is better than a wife, _but_, &c. the lilly and the rose combine, to make my _jenny_ fair; there's no contentment sike as mine; i'm almost void of care: but yet i fear my _jenny's_ face, will cause more men to woe; which if she should, as i do fear, _still, what is that to you?_ _the knotting_ song. _the words by sir_ charles sydney. [music] hears not my _phillis_ how the birds, their feather'd mates salute: they tell their passion in their words, must i alone, must i alone be mute: phillis _without a frown or smile,_ _sat & knotted, & knotted, & knotted, and knotted all the while._ the god of love in thy bright eyes, does like a tyrant reign; but in thy heart a child he lies, without a dart or flame. _phillis_, &c. so many months in silence past, and yet in raging love; might well deserve one word at last, my passion should approve. _phillis_, &c. must then your faithful swain expire, and not one look obtain; which to sooth his fond desire, might pleasingly explain. _phillis_, &c. _the_ french king _in a foaming passion for the loss of his potent army in the_ netherlands, _which were routed by his grace the duke of_ marlborough. [music] old _lewis le grand_, he raves like a fury, and calls for _mercury_; quoth he, if i can, i'll finish my days; for why should i live? since the fates will not give one affable smile: great _marlborough_ conquers, great _marlborough_ conquers, i'm ruin'd the while. the flower of _france_, and troops of my palace which march'd from _versales_ who vow'd to advance, with conquering sword, are cut, hack'd and hew'd, i well may conclude, they're most of them slain: oh! what will become of, oh! what will become of, my grand-son in _spain_. my fortify'd throne, propt up by oppression, must yield at discretion, for needs must i own, my glory decays: bold _marlborough_ comes with ratling drums, and thundering shot, he drives all before him, he drives all before him, oh! where am i got? he pushes for crowns, and slays my commanders, and forces in _flanders_; great capital towns, for _charles_ has declar'd: these things like a dart, has pierced my heart, and threatens my death; here do i lye sighing, here do i lye sighing, and panting for breath. this passionate grief, draws on my diseases, which fatally ceases my spirits in chief, a fit of the gout, the gravel and stone, i have 'tis well known, at this horrid news, of _marlborough's_ triumph, of _marlborough's_ triumph, all battles i lose. wherever he comes, he is bold and victorious, successful and glorious, my two royal thumbs with anguish i bite: to hear his success; yet nevertheless, my passion's in vain: i pity my darling, i pity my darling, young _philip_ in _spain_. i am out of my wits, if e'er i had any; my foes they are many, which plagues me by fits, in _flanders_ and _spain_: i'm sick at my heart, to think we must part, with what we enjoy'd, towns, castles, are taken, towns, castles, are taken, my troops are destroy'd. i am i declare, in a weak condition, go call my physician, and let him prepare some comfort with speed, without all delay, assist me i pray, and hear my complaint, a dram of the bottle, a dram of the bottle, or else i shall faint. should i slip my breath, at this dreadful season, i think it but reason, i should lay my death, to the daring foes, whose fire and smoak, has certainly broke, the heart in my breast: oh! bring me a cordial, oh! bring me a cordial, and lay me to rest. _a_ song. _set by captain_ pack. [music] would you be a man in fashion? would you lead a life divine? take a little dram of passion, (a little dram of passion) in a lusty dose of wine if the nymph has no compassion, vain it is to sigh and groan: love was but put in for fashion, wine will do the work alone. _a_ song. _set by mr._ tho. farmer. [music] though the pride of my passion fair _sylvia_ betrays, and frowns at the love i impart; though kindly her eyes twist amorous rays, to tye a more fortunate heart: yet her charms are so great, i'll be bold in my pain, his heart is too tender, too tender, that's struck with disdain. still my heart is so just to my passionate eyes, it dissolves with delight while i gaze: and he that loves on, though _sylvia_ denies, his love but his duty obeys: i no more can refrain her neglects to pursue, than the force, the force of her beauty can cease to subdue. _a_ song. [music] when first i fair _celinda_ knew, her kindness then was great: her eyes i cou'd with pleasure view, and friendly rays did meet: in all delights we past the time, that could diversion move; she oft would kindly hear me rhime upon some others love: _she oft would kindly hear me rhime,_ _upon some others love._ but ah! at last i grew too bold, prest by my growing flame; for when my passion i had told, she hated ev'n my name: thus i that cou'd her friendship boast, and did her love pursue; and taught contentment at the cost, of love and friendship too. _a_ song. _set by mr._ fishburne. [music] long had _damon_ been admir'd, by the beauties of the plain; ev'ry breast warm love inspir'd, for the proper handsome swain: the choicest nymph _sicilia_ bred, was won by his resistless charms: soft looks, and verse as smooth, had led and left the captive in his arms. but our _damon's_ soul aspires, to a goddess of his race; though he sues with chaster fires, this his glories does deface: the fatal news no sooner blown in whispers up the chesnut row; the god _sylvanus_ with a frown, blasts all the lawrels on his brow. swains be wise, and check desire in it's soaring, when you'll woe: _damon_ may in love require _thestyles_ and _laura_ too: when shepherds too ambitious are, and court _astrea_ on a throne; like to the shooting of a star, they fall, and thus their shining's gone. _a_ song. _set by mr._ fishburn. [music] pretty _floramel_, no tongue can ever tell, the charms that in thee dwell; those soul-melting pleasures, shou'd the mighty _jove_ once view, he'd be in love, and plunder all above, to rain down his treasure: ah! said the nymph in the shepherd's arms, had you half so much love as you say i have charms; there's not a soul, created for man and love, more true than _floramel_ wou'd prove, i'd o'er the world with thee rove. love that's truly free, had never jealousie, but artful love may be both doubtful and wooing; ah! dear shepherdess, ne'er doubt, for you may guess, my heart will prove no less, than ever endless loving: then cries the nymph, like the sun thou shalt be, and i, like kind earth, will produce all to thee; of ev'ry flower in love's garden i'll off'rings pay to my saint. nay then pray take not those dear eyes away. _a_ song. _set by mr._ robert king. [music] by shady woods and purling streams, i spend my life in pleasing dreams; and would not for the world be thought to change my false delightful thought: for who, alas! can happy be, that does the truth of all things see? _for who, alas! can happy be,_ _that does the truth of all things see._ _a_ song. _sett by mr._ henry purcell. [music] in _chloris_ all soft charms agree, enchanting humour pow'rful wit; beauty from affectation free, and for eternal empire fit: where-e'er she goes, love waits her eyes, the women envy, men adore; tho' did she less the triumph prize, she wou'd deserve the conquest more. but vanity so much prevails, she begs what else none can deny her; and with inviting treach'rous smiles gives hopes which ev'n prevent desire: reaches at every trifling heart, grows warm with ev'ry glimm'ring flame: and common prey so deads her dart, it scarce can wound a noble game. i could lye ages at her feet, adore her careless of my pain; with tender vows her rigour meet, despair, love on, and not complain: my passion from all change secur'd, favours may rise, no frown controuls; i any torment can endure, but hoping with a crowd of fools. _a_ song. _set by mr._ tho. farmer. [music] when busie fame o'er all the plain, _velinda's_ praises rung; and on their oaten pipes each swain her matchless beauty sung: the envious nymphs were forc'd to yield she had the sweetest face; no emulous disputes were held, but for the second place. young _coridon_, whose stubborn heart no beauty e'er could move; but smil'd at _cupid's_ bow and dart, and brav'd the god of love: would view this nymph, and pleas'd at first, such silent charms to see: with wonder gaz'd, then sigh'd, and curs'd his curiosity. _a_ song. _set by mr._ fishburne. [music] why am i the only creature, must a ruin'd love pursue; other passions yield to nature, mine there's nothing can subdue: not the glory of possessing, monarch wishes gave me ease, more and more the mighty blessings did my raging pains encrease. nor could jealousie relieve me, tho' it ever waited near; cloath'd in gawdy pow'r to grieve me, still the monster would appear: that, nor time, nor absence neither, nor despair removes my pain; i endure them all together, yet my torments still remain. had alone her matchless beauty, set my amorous heart on fire, age at last would do its duty, fuel ceasing, flames expire. but her mind immortal grows, makes my love immortal too; nature ne'er created faces, can the charms of souls undoe. and to make my loss the greater, she laments it as her own; could she scorn me, i might hate her, but alas! she shews me none: then since fortune is my ruin, in retirement i'll complain; and in rage for my undoing, ne'er come in its power again. _a_ song. [music] _laurinda_, who did love disdain, for whom had languish'd many a swain: leading her bleating flocks to drink, she 'spy'd upon a river's brink a youth, whose eyes did well declare, how much he lov'd, but lov'd not her. at first she laugh'd, but gaz'd a while, which soon it lessen'd to a smile; thence to surprize and wonder came, her breast to heave, her heart to flame: then cry'd she out, ah! now i prove thou art a god most mighty _jove_. she would have spoke, but shame deny'd, and bid her first consult her pride; but soon she found that aid was gone, for _jove_, alass! had left her none: ah! now she burns! but 'tis too late, for in his eyes she reads her fate. _a_ song. [music] fair _cælia_ too fondly contemns those delights, wherewith gentle nature hath soften'd the nights; if she be so kind to present us with pow'r, the fault is our own to neglect the good hour: who gave thee this beauty, ordain'd thou should'st be, as kind to thy slaves, as the gods were to thee. then _cælia_ no longer reserve the vain pride, of wronging thy self, to see others deny'd; if love be a pleasure, alass! you will find, we both are not happy, when both are most kind: but women, like priests, do in others reprove, and call that thing lust, which in them is but love. what they thro' their madness and folly create, we poor silly slaves still impute to our fate; but in such distempers where love is the grief, 'tis _cælia_, not heaven, must give us relief: then away with those titles of honour and cause, which first made us sin, by giving us laws. _a_ song. _set by mr._ william turner. [music] i lik'd, but never lov'd before i saw that charming face; now every feature i adore, and doat on ev'ry grace: she ne'er shall know that kind desire, which her cold looks denies, unless my heart that's all on fire, should sparkle through my eyes: then if no gentle glance return, a silent leave to speak; my heart which would for ever burn, alass! must sigh and break. _a_ song _in_ valentinian. [music] where would coy _amyntas_ run, from a despairing lover's story? when her eyes have conquest won, why should her ear refuse the glory: shall a slave, whose racks constrain, be forbidden to complain; let her scorn me, let her fly me, let her looks, her love deny me: ne'er shall my heart yield to despair, or my tongue cease to tell my care, or my tongue cease to tell my care: much to love, and much to pray, is to heav'n the only way. _a_ song. _set by mr._ pelham humphreys. [music] a wife i do hate, for either she's false, or she's jealous; but give me a mate, who nothing will ask us or tell us: she stands at no terms, nor chaffers by way of indenture: or loves for the farms, but takes the kind man at a venture. if all prove not right, without an act, process or warning, from wife for a night, you may be divorc'd the next morning, where parents are slaves, their brats can't be any other; great wits and great braves, have always a punk to their mother. _a_ song. [music] tell me ye _sicilian_ swains, why this mourning's o'er your plains; where's your usual melody? why are all your shepherds mad, and your shepherdesses sad? what can the mighty meaning be? _chorus._ _sylvia_ the glory of our plains; _sylvia_ the love of all our swains; that blest us with her smiles: where ev'ry shepherd had a heart, and ev'ry shepherdess a part; slights our gods, and leaves our isle, slights our gods, and leaves our isle. _a_ song. [music] when gay _philander_ left the plain, the love, the life of ev'ry swain; his pipe the mournful _strephon_ took, by some sad bank and murm'ring brook: whilst list'ning flocks forsook their food, and melancholy by him stood; on the cold ground himself he laid, and thus the mournful shepherd play'd. farewel to all that's bright and gay, no more glad night and chearing day; no more the sun will gild our plain, 'till the lost youth return again: then every pensive heart that now, with mournful willow shades his brow; shall crown'd with chearful garlands sing, and all shall seem eternal spring. say, mighty _pan_, if you did know, say all ye rural gods below; 'mongst all youths that grac'd your plain, so gay so beautiful a swain: in whose sweet air and charming voice, our list'ning swains did all rejoyce; him only, o ye gods! restore your nymphs, and shepherds ask no more. _a_ song. _set by mr._ tho. kingsley. [music] how happy's the mortal whose heart is his own, and for his own quiet's beholden to none, (_eccho._ beholden to none, to none;) that to love's enchantments ne'er lendeth an ear, which a frown or a smile can equally bear, (_eccho._ can equally bear, can bear,) nor on ev'ry frail beauty still fixes an eye, but from those sly felons doth prudently fly, (_eccho._ doth prudently, prudently fly, doth fly;) for the heart that still wanders is pounded at last, and 'tis hard to relieve it when once it is fast, (_eccho._ when once it is fast, is fast.) by sporting with dangers still longer and longer, the fetters and chains of the captive grows stronger; he drills on his evil, then curses his fate, and bewails those misfortunes himself did create: like an empty camelion he lives on the air, and all the day lingers 'twixt hope and despair; like a fly in the candle he sports and he games, 'till a victim in folly, he dies in the flames. if love, so much talk'd of, a heresie be, of all it enslaves few true converts we see; if hectoring and huffing would once do the feat, there's few that would fail of a vict'ry compleat; but with gain to come off, and the tyrant subdue, is an art that is hitherto practis'd by few; how easie is freedom once had to maintain, but liberty lost is as hard to regain. this driv'ling and sniv'ling, and chiming in parts, this wining and pining, and breaking of hearts; all pensive and silent in corners to sit, are pretty fine pastimes for those that want wit: when this passion and fashion doth so far abuse 'em, it were good the state should for pendulums use 'em; for if reason it seize on, and make it give o'er, no labour can save, or reliev't any more. _a_ song. _set by mr._ henry purcell. [music] a thousand several ways i try'd, to hide my passion from your view; conscious that i should be deny'd, because i cannot merit you: absence, the last and worst of all, did so encrease my wretched pain, that i return'd, rather to fall by the swift fate, by the swift fate of your disdain. _a_ song. [music] to the grove, gentle love, let us be going, where the kind spring and wind all day are woing; he with soft sighing blasts strives to o'er-take her, she would not tho' she flies, have him forsake her, but in circling rings returning, and in purling whispers mourning; she swells and pants, as if she'd say, fain i would, but dare not stay. _a_ song. _set by mr._ fishburn. [music] tell me no more of flames in love, that common dull pretence, fools in romances use to move soft hearts of little sense: no, _strephon_, i'm not such a slave, love's banish'd power to own; since interest and convenience have so long usurp'd his throne. no burning hope or cold despair, dull groves or purling streams, sighing and talking to the air in love's fantastick dreams, can move my pity or my hate, but satyrist i'll prove, and all ridiculous create that shall pretend to love. love was a monarch once, 'tis true, and god-like rul'd alone, and tho' his subjects were but few, their hearts were all his own; but since the slaves revolted are, and turn'd into a state, their int'rest is their only care, and love grows out of date. _a_ song. _set by mr._ fishburn. [music] wealth breeds care, love, hope and fear; what does love our business hear? while _bacchus_ merry does appear, fight on and fear no sinking, charge it briskly to the brim, 'till the flying top-sails swim, we owe the great discovery to him of this new world of drinking. grave cabals that states refine, mingle their debates with wine; _ceres_ and the god o'th' wine; makes every great commander. let sober sots small-beer subdue, the wise and valiant wine does woe; the _stagyrite_ had the honour to be drunk with _alexander_. stand to your arms, and now advance a health to the _english_ king of _france_; on to the next a _bon speranze_, by _bacchus_ and _apollo_. thus in state i lead the van, fall in your place by your right-hand man, beat drum! now march! dub a dub, ran dan, he's a _whig_ that will not follow. _a_ song. _set by mr._ fishburn. [music] tho' fortune and love may be deities still, to those they oblige by their pow'r; for my part, they ever have us'd me so ill, they cannot expect i'll adore: hereafter a temple to friendship i'll raise, and dedicate there all the rest of my days, to the goddess accepted my vows, _to the goddess accepted my vows_. thou perfectest image of all things divine, bright center of endless desires, may the glory be yours, and the services mine, when i light at your altars the fires. i offer a heart has devotion so pure, it would for your service all torments endure, might you but have all things you wish, _might you_, &c. but yet the goddess of fools to despise, i find i'm too much in her power; she makes me go where 'tis in vain to be wise, in absence of her i adore: if love then undoes me before i get back, i still with resignment receive the attack, or languish away in despair, _or languish_, &c. _a_ song. _set by mr._ henry purcell. [music] he himself courts his own ruin, that with too great passion sues 'em: when men whine too much in wooing, women with like coquets use 'em: some by this way of addressing have the sex so far transported, that they'll fool away the blessing for the pride of being courted. jilt and smile when we adore 'em, while some blockhead buys the favour; presents have more power o'er 'em than all our soft love and labour, thus, like zealots, with screw'd faces, we our fooling make the greater, while we cant long winded graces, others they fall to the creature. _a_ song. _set by mr._ damasene. [music] cease lovely _strephon_, cease to charm; useless, alas! is all this art; it's needless you should strongly arm, to take a too, too willing heart: i hid my weakness all i could, and chid my pratling tell-tale eyes, for fear the easie conquest should take from the value of the prize. but oh! th' unruly passion grew so fast, it could not be conceal'd, and soon, alas! i found to you i must without conditions yield, tho' you have thus surpriz'd my heart, yet use it kindly, for you know, it's not a gallant victor's part to insult o'er a vanquish'd foe. _a_ song. _set by mr._ damasene. [music] you happy youths, whose hearts are free from love's imperial chain, henceforth be warn'd and taught by me, and taught by me to avoid inchanting pain, fatal the wolves to trembling flocks, sharp winds to blossoms prove: to careless seamen, hidden rocks; to human quiet love. fly the fair-sex, if bliss you prize, the snake's beneath the flow'r: whoever gaz'd on beauties eyes, that tasted quiet more? the kind with restless jealousie, the cruel fill with care; with baser falshood those betray, these kill us with despair. _a_ song. _set by dr._ staggins. [music] when first _amyntas_ charm'd my heart, the heedless sheep began to stray; the wolves soon stole the greatest part, and all will now be made a prey: ah! let not love your thoughts possess, 'tis fatal to a shepherdess; the dangerous passion you must shun, or else like me, be quite undone. a song. _set by mr._ richard croone. [music] how happy and free is the resolute swain, that denies to submit to the yoak of the fair; free from excesses of pleasure and pain, neither dazl'd with hope, nor deprest with despair. he's safe from disturbance, and calmly enjoys all the pleasures of love, without clamour and noise. poor shepherds in vain their affections reveal, to a nymph that is peevish, proud sullen and coy; vainly do virgins their passions conceal, for they boil in their grief, 'till themselves they destroy, and thus the poor darling lies under a curse: to be check'd in the womb, or o'erlaid by the nurse. _a_ song. _sung by mrs._ cross _in the_ mock-astrologer, _set by mr._ ramondon. [music] why so pale and wan fond lover? prithee, prithee, prithee why so pale: will, when looking well can't move her, looking ill, looking ill prevail? why so dull and mute young sinner? prithee, prithee why so mute; will, when speaking well can't win her, saying nothing, nothing do't? quit, quit for shame, this will not move, this cannot, cannot, cannot, cannot take her; if of her self she will not love, nothing can, nothing can make her, the devil, the devil, the devil, the devil take her. _a_ song _occasioned by a lady's wearing a patch upon a becoming place on her face. set by mr._ john weldon. [music] that little patch upon your face wou'd seem a foil on one less fair, wou'd seem a foil, wou'd seem a foil, wou'd seem a foil on one less fair: on you it hides a charming grace, and you in pity, you in pity, you in pity plac'd it there; on you it hides a charming grace, and you in pity, you in pity, in pity plac'd it there. _and you in pity, pity,_ _and you in pity plac'd it there._ _a_ song. _set and sung by mr._ leveridge _at the_ theater. [music] _iris_ beware when _strephon_ pursues you, 'tis but to boast a conquest won: all his designs are aim'd to undo you, break off the love he has begun: when he's addressing, and prays for the blessing, which none but his _iris_ can give alone; o then beware, 'tis all to undo you, 'tis but to boast a conquest won: she that's believing, while he is deceiving, like many already, will be undone; _iris_ beware when _strephon_ pursues you, 'tis but to boast a conquest won. _a_ song. _set by mr._ ramondon, _sung at the_ theatre. [music] how charming _phillis_ is, how fair, how charming _phillis_ is, how fair, o that she were as willing, to ease my wounded heart of care, and make her eyes less killing; to ease my wounded heart of care, and make her eyes less killing; to ease my wounded heart of care, and make her eyes less killing; to ease my wounded heart of care, and make her eyes less killing. i sigh, i sigh, i languish now, and love will not let me rest; i drive about the park and bow, where-e'er i meet my dearest. _a_ song. _set by mr._ anthony young. [music] cease whining _damon_ to complain, of thy unhappy fate; that _sylvia_ should thy love disdain, which lasting was and great. for love so constant flames so bright, more unsuccessful prove: than cold neglect and sudden slight, to gain the nymph you love. then only you'll obtain the prize, when you her coyness use; if you pursue the fair, she flies, but if you fly, pursues. had _phoebus_ not pursu'd so fast the seeming cruel she; the god a virgin had embrac'd, and not a lifeless tree. _a_ song _in the_ opera _call'd the_ brittish enchanters. _set by mr._ j. eccles. [music] plague us not with idle stories, whining loves, whining loves, whining loves, and senceless glories. what are lovers? what are kings? what, at best, but slavish things? what are lovers? what are kings? what, at best, but slavish things? what, at best, but slavish things? free i liv'd as nature made me, love nor beauty durst invade me, no rebellious slaves betray'd me, free i liv'd as nature made me, each by turns as sence inspired me, _bacchus_, _ceres_, _venus_ fir'd me, i alone have learnt true pleasure, freedom, freedom, freedom is the only, only treasure. juno _in the prize._ _set by mr._ john weldon. [music] let ambition fire thy mind, thou wert born o'er men to reign; not to follow flocks design'd, scorn thy crook, and leave the plain: not to follow flocks design'd, scorn thy crook, and leave the plain. crowns i'll throw beneath thy feet, thou on necks of kings shalt tread, joys in circles, joys shall meet, which way e're thy fancy leads. _the beau's character in the comedy call'd_ hampstead-heath. _set and sung by mr._ ramondon. [music] a whig that's full, an empty scull, a box of _burgamot_; a hat ne'er made to fit his head no more than that to plot. a hand that's white, a ring that's right, a sword, knot, patch and feather; a gracious smile, and grounds and oyl, do very well together. a smatch of _french_, and none of sence, all conquering airs and graces; a tune that thrills, a lear that kills, stoln flights and borrow'd phrases. a chariot gilt, to wait on jilt, an awkward pace and carriage; a foreign tower, domestick whore, and mercenary marriage. a limber ham, g---- d---- ye m'am, a smock-face, tho' a tann'd one; a peaceful sword, not one wise word, but state and prate at random. duns, bastards, claps, and am'rous scraps, of _cælia_ and _amadis_; toss up a beau, that grand ragou, that hodge-podge for the ladies. _a_ song _in the innocent mistress. set by mr._ john eccles, _sung by mrs._ hodgson. [music] when i languish'd and wish'd you wou'd something bestow, you bad me to give it a name; but by heav'n i know it as little as you, tho' my ignorance passes for shame: you take for devotion each passionate glance, and think the dull fool is sincere; but never believe that i spake in romance, on purpose to tickle, on purpose, on purpose, on purpose to tickle your ear: to please me than more, think still i am true, and hug each apocryphal text; tho' i practice a thousand false doctrines on you, i shall still have enough, i shall still have enough, shall still have enough for the next. venus _to_ paris _in the prize musick. set by mr._ john weldon. [music] hither turn thee, hither turn thee, hither turn thee gentle swain, hither turn thee, hither turn thee, hither turn thee gentle swain, let not _venus_, let not _venus_, let not _venus_ sue in vain; _venus_ rules, _venus_ rules, _venus_ rules the gods above, love rules them, love rules them, love rules them, and she rules love? _venus_ rules the gods above, love rules them, love rules them, love rules them, love rules them, love rules them, and she rules love. love rules them, and she rules love. _a_ song. _the words by mr._ ward, _set by mr._ harris. [music] _belinda_! why do you distrust, so faithful and so kind a heart: which cannot prove to you unjust, but must it self endure the smart: no, no, no, no the wandring stars, shall sooner cease their motion; and nature reconcile the jars, 'twixt _boreas_ and the ocean: the fixed poles shall seem to move, and ramble from their places; e'er i'll from fair _belinda_ rove, or slight her charming graces. _a_ song. _set by mr._ william turner. [music] long was the day e're _alexis_ my lover, to finish my hopes would his passion reveal; he could not speak, nor i could not discover, what my poor aking heart was so loath to conceal: till the strength of his passion his fear had remov'd, then we mutually talk'd, and we mutually lov'd. groves for umbrella's did kindly o'er-shade us, from _phoebus_ hot rages, who like envy in strove; had not kind fate this provision made us, all the nymphs of the air would have envy'd our love: but we stand below envy that ill-natur'd fate, and above cruel scorn is happy estate. _a_ song. _set to musick by mr._ john eccles. [music] as _cupid_ roguishly one day, had all alone stole out to play; the _muses_ caught the little, little, little knave, and captive love to beauty gave: the _muses_ caught the little, little, little knave, and captive love to beauty gave: the laughing dame soon miss'd her son, and here and there, and here and there, and here and there distracted run; distracted run, and here and there, and here and there, and here and there distracted run: and still his liberty to gain, his liberty to gain, offers his ransom, but in vain, in vain, in vain; the willing, willing prisoner still hugs his chain, and vows he'll ne'er be free, and vows he'll ne'er be free, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no he'll ne'er be free again, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no he'll ne'er be free again. _old_ soldiers. [music] of old soldiers, the song you would hear, and we old fidlers have forgot who they were, but all we remember shall come to your ear, _that we are old soldiers of the queens,_ _and the queens old soldiers._ with the _old drake_, that was the next man to _old franciscus_, who first it began, to sail through the streights of _magellan_, _like an old soldier_, &c. that put the proud _spanish armado_ to wrack, and travell'd all o'er the old world, and came back, in his old ship, laden with gold and old sack, _like an old soldier_, &c. with an _old cavendish_, that seconded him, and taught his old sails the same passage to swim, and did them therefore with cloth of gold trim, _like an old soldier_, &c. like an _old rawleigh_, that twice and again, sailed over most part of the _seas_, and then travell'd all o'er the world with his pen, _like an old soldier_, &c. with an _old john norris_, the general, that at old _gaunt_, made his fame immortal, in spight of his foes, with no loss at all, _like an old soldier_, &c. like _old brest fort_, an invincible thing, when the old _queen_ sent him to help the _french_ king, took from the proud _fox_, to the world's wond'ring, _like an old soldier_, &c. where an old stout _fryer_, as goes the story, came to push of pike with him in vain-glory, but he was almost sent to his own _purgatory_, _by this old soldier_, &c. with an _old ned norris_, that kept _ostend_, a terror to foe, and a refuge to friend, and left it impregnable to his last end, _like an old soldier_, &c. that in the old unfortunate voyage of all, march'd o'er the old bridge, and knock'd at the wall, of _lisbon_, the mistress of _portugal_, _like an old soldier_, &c. with an _old tim norris_, by the old _queen_ sent, of _munster_ in _ireland_, lord president, where his days and his blood in her service he spent, _like an old soldier_, &c. with an _old harry norris_, in battle wounded, in his knee, whose leg was cut off, and he said, you have spoil'd my dancing, and dy'd in his bed, _like an old soldier_, &c. with an _old will norris_, the oldest of all, who went voluntary, without any call, to th' old _irish_ wars, to's fame immortal, _like an old soldier_, &c. with an _old dick wenman_, the first in his prime, that over the walls of old _cales_ did clime, and there was knighted, and liv'd all his time, _like an old soldier_, &c. with _old nando wenman_, when _brest_ was o'er thrown, into the air, into the seas, with gunpowder blown, yet bravely recovering, long after was known, _for an old soldier_, &c. when an _old tom wenman_, whose bravest delight, was in a good cause for his country to fight, and dy'd in _ireland_, a good old knight, _and an old soldier_, &c. with a young _ned wenman_, so valiant and bold, in the wars of _bohemia_, as with the old, deserves for his valour to be enroll'd, _an old soldier_, &c. and thus of old soldiers, ye hear the fame, but ne'er so many of one house and name, and all of old _john lord viscount_ of _thame_, _an old soldier of the queens,_ _and the queens old soldier._ _on the tombs in_ westminster abby. _you must suppose it to be_ easter _holy-days: at what time_ sisly _and_ dol, kate _and_ peggy, moll _and_ nan, _are marching to_ westminster, _with a leash of prentices before 'em; who go rowing themselves along with their right arms to make more hast, and now and then with a greasie muckender wipe away the dripping that bastes their foreheads. at the door they meet a crowd of_ wapping _sea-men_, southwark _broom-men, the inhabitants of the_ bank-side, _with a butcher or two prickt in among them. there a while they stand gaping for the master of the show, staring upon the suburbs of their dearest delight, just as they stand gaping upon the painted cloth before they go into the puppet play. by and by they hear the bunch of keys, which rejoyces their hearts like the sound of the_ pancake-bell. _for now the man of comfort peeps over the spikes, and beholding such a learned auditory, opens the gate of_ paradise, _and by that time they are half got into the first chapel, (for time is very precious) he lifts up his voice among the tombs, and begins his lurrey in manner and form following._ _to the foregoing tune; in imitation of the old soldiers._ here lies _william de valence_, a right good earl of _pembroke_, and this is his monument which you see, i'll swear upon a book. he was high marshal of _england_, when _henry_ the third did reign; but this you take upon my word, that he'll ne'er be so again. here the lord _edward talbot_ lies, the town of _shrewsbury's_ earl; together with his countess fair, that was a most delicate girl. the next to him there lyeth one, sir _richard peckshall_ hight; of whom we only this do say, he was a _hampshire_ knight. but now to tell you more of him, there lies beneath this stone: two wives of his, and daughters four, to all of us unknown. sir _bernard brockhurst_ there doth lie, lord chamberlain to queen _ann_; queen _ann_ was _richard_ the second's queen, and was king of _england_. sir _francis hollis_, the lady _frances_, the same was _suffolk's_ dutchess; two children of _edward_ the third, lie here in death's cold clutches. this is the third king _edward's_ brother, of whom our records tell nothing of note, nor say they whether, he be in heaven or hell. this same was _john_ of _eldeston_, he was no costermonger; but _cornwall's_ earl, and here's one dy'd, 'cause he could live no longer. the lady _mohun_, dutchess of _york_, and duke of _york's_ wife also; but death resolv'd to horn the duke, she lies now with death below. the lady _ann ross_, but wot ye well, that she in childbed dy'd; the lady marquiss of _winchester_, lies buried by her side. now think your penny well spent good folks, and that you're not beguil'd; within this cup doth lie the heart of a _french embassador's_ child. but how the devil it came to pass, on purpose, or by chance; the bowels they lie underneath, the body is in _france_. [sidenote: dol. _i warrant ye the_ pharises _carried it away._] there's _oxford's_ countess, and there also the lady _burleigh_ her mother; and there her daughter, a countess too, lie close by one another. these once were bonny dames, and tho' there were no coaches then, yet could they jog their tails themselves, or had them jogg'd by men. [sidenote: dick. _ho, ho, ho, i warrant ye they did as other women did, ha_ ralf. ralf. _oy, oy._] but woe is me! those high born sinners; that went to pray so stoutly; are now laid low, and 'cause they can't, their statues pray devoutly. this is the dutchess of _somerset_, by name the lady _ann_; her lord _edward_ the sixth protected, oh! he was a gallant man. [sidenote: tom. _i have heard a ballad of him sang at_ ratcliff cross. mol. _i believe we have it at home over our kitchin mantle-tree._] in this fair monument which you see, adorn'd with so many pillars; doth lie the countess of _buckingham_, and her husband, sir _george villers_. this old sir _george_ was grandfather, and the countess she was granny; to the great duke of _buckingham_, who often topt king _jammy_. sir _robert eatam_, a _scotch_ knight, this man was secretary; and scribl'd compliments for two queens, queen _ann_, and eke queen _mary_. this was the countess of _lenox_, yclep'd the lady _marget_: king _james's_ grandmother, and yet 'gainst death she had no target. this was queen _mary_, queen of _scots_, whom _buchanan_ doth bespatter; she lost her head at _tottingham_, what ever was the matter. [sidenote: dol. _how came she here then?_ will. _why ye silly oafe could not she be brought here, after she was dead?_] the mother of our seventh _henry_, this is that lyeth hard by; she was the countess wot ye well, of _richmond_ and of _derby_. _henry_ the seventh lieth here, with his fair queen beside him, he was the founder of this chapel, oh! may no ill betide him. therefore his monument's in brass, you'll say that very much is; the duke of _richmond_ and _lenox_, there lieth with his dutchess. [sidenote: rog. _i warrant ye these were no small fools in those days._] and here they stand upright in a press with bodies made of wax; with a globe and a wand in either hand, and their robes upon their backs. here lies the duke of _buckingham_, and the dutchess his wife; him _felton_ stabb'd at _portsmouth_ town, and so he lost his life. two children of king _james_ these are, whom death keeps very chary; _sophia_ in the cradle lies, and this is the lady _mary_. [sidenote: bess. _good woman pray still your child, it keeps such a bawling, we can't hear what the man says._] and this is queen _elizabeth_, how the _spaniards_ did infest her? here she lies buried, with queen _mary_, and now agrees with her sister. to another chapel now we come, the people follow and chat; this is the lady _cottington_, and the people cry, who's that? this is the lady _frances sidney_, the countess of _suffolk_ was she; and this the lord _dudley carleton_ is, and then they look up and see. sir _thomas brumley_ lieth here, death would him not reprieve; with his four sons, and daughters four, that once were all alive. the next is sir _john fullerton_, and this is his lady i trow; and this is sir _john puckering_, whom none of you did know. that's the earl of _bridgwater_ in the middle, who makes no use of his bladder; although his lady lie so near him, and so we go up a ladder. [sidenote: kate. _he took more pains, than i would ha done for a hundred such._] _edward_ the first, that gallant blade, lies underneath this stone; and this is the chair which he did bring, a good while ago from _scone_. in this same chair, till now of late, our kings and queens were crown'd; under this chair another stone doth lie upon the ground. [sidenote: ralf. _gad i warrant there has been many a maiden-head got in that chair._ tom. _gad and i'll come hither and try one of these days, an't be but to get a prince._ dol. _a_ papist _i warrant him._] on that same stone did _jacob_ sleep, instead of a down pillow; and after that 'twas hither brought, by some good honest fellow. _richard_ the second lieth here, and his first queen, queen _ann_; _edward_ the third lies here hard by, oh! there was a gallant man. for this was his two handed sword, a blade both true and trusty; the _french_ men's blood was ne'er wip'd off, which makes it look so rusty. here he lies again, with his queen _philip_, a _dutch_ woman by record, but that's all one, for now alass! his blade's not so long as his sword. king _edward_ the confessor lies within this monument fine; i'm sure, quoth one, a worser tomb must serve both me and mine. _harry_ the fifth lies there, and there doth lie queen _eleanor_; to our first _edward_ she was wife, which was more than ye knew before. _henry_ the third lies there entomb'd, he was herb _john_ in pottage; little he did, but still reign'd on, although his sons were at age. fifty six years he reigned king, e'er he the crown would lay by; only we praise him, 'cause he was last builder of the _abby_. here _thomas cecil_ lies, who's that? why 'tis the earl of _exeter_; and this his countess is, to die how it perplexed her. [sidenote: dol. _ay, ay, i warrant her, rich folks are as unwilling to die as poor folks._] here _henry cary_, lord _hunsdon_ rests, what a noise he makes with his name? lord chamberlain was he unto queen _elizabeth_ of great fame. [sidenote: sisly. _that's he for whom our bells ring so often, is it not_ mary? mol. _ay, ay, the very same._] and here's one _william colchester_ lies of a certainty; an abbot was he of _westminster_, and he that saith no, doth lie. this is the bishop of _durham_, by death here lay'd in fetters; _henry_ the seventh lov'd him well, and so he wrote his letters. sir _thomas bacchus_, what of him? poor gentleman not a word; only they buried him here; but now behold that man with a sword. _humphry de bohun_, who though he were not born with me i'the same town; yet i can tell he was earl of _essex_, of _hertford_, and _northampton_. he was high constable of _england_, as history well expresses; but now pretty maids be of good chear, we're going up to the presses. and now the presses open stand, and ye see them all arow; but never no more are said of these then what is said below. now down the stairs come we again, the man goes first with a staff; some two or three tumble down the stairs, and then the people laugh. this is the great sir _francis vere_, that so the _spaniards_ curry'd; four colonels support his tomb, and here his body's buried. that _statue_ against the _wall_ with one eye, is major general _norris_; he beat the _spaniards_ cruelly, as is affirm'd in stories. [sidenote: dick. _i warrant ye he had two, if he could have but kep'd 'em._] his six sons there hard by him stand, each one was a commander; to shew he could a lady serve, as well as the _hollander_. and there doth sir _john hollis_ rest, who was the major general; to sir _john norris_, that brave blade, and so they go to dinner all. for now the shew is at an end, all things are done and said; the citizen pays for his wife, the prentice for the maid. _a_ song _sung by mrs._ campion, _in the comedy call'd_, she wou'd and she wou'd not. _by mr._ john weldon. [music] _cælia_ my heart has often rang'd, like bees o'er gaudy flowers; and many thousand loves have chang'd, 'till it was fix'd, 'till it was fix'd on yours; but _cælia_ when i saw those eyes, 'twas soon, 'twas soon determin'd there; stars might as well forsake the skies, and vanish into air: stars might as well forsake the skies, and vanish into air. now if from the great rules i err, new beauties, new beauties to admire; may i again, again turn wanderer, and never, never, never, never, never, no, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, settle more: may i again, again turn wanderer, and never, never, never, never, never, no, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, settle more. _a_ song _made for the entertainment of her royal highness. set by mr._ leveridge. _sung by mrs._ lindsey _in_ caligula. [music] tho' over all mankind, besides my conquering beauty, conquering beauty, my conquering beauty reigns; my conquering beauty reigns; from him i love, from him i love when i meet disdain, a killing damp, a killing damp comes o'er my pride: i'm fair and young, i'm fair and young, i'm fair and young in vain: i'm fair and young, i'm fair and young, i'm fair and young in vain; no, no, no, let him wander where he will, let him wander, let him wander, let him wander, let him wander where he will, i shall have youth and beauty, youth and beauty, youth and beauty, i shall have youth and beauty, youth and beauty still; i shall have beauty that can charm a _jove_, can charm a _jove_, and no fault, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no fault, no, no, no fault, but constant love: from my arms then let him fly, fly, fly, from my arms then let him fly; shall i languish, pine, and dye? no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no not i. _a_ song _in the fair_ penitent. _set by mr._ eccles. _sung by mrs._ hudson. [music] stay, ah stay, ah turn, ah whither wou'd you fly? ah stay, ah turn, ah whither wou'd you fly? whither, whither wou'd you fly? too charming, too charming, too relentless maid, i follow not to conquer, not to conquer, i follow not to conquer, but to dye: you of the fearful, of the fearful are afraid, ah stay, ah turn, ah whither wou'd you fly? whither, whither, whither, whither, ah whither wou'd you fly? in vain, in vain i call, in vain, in vain i call, while she like fleeting, fleeting air; when press'd by some tempestuous wind, flys swifter from the voice of my despair: nor cast a pitying, pitying, pitying, pitying look behind, no not one, no not one, not one pitying, pitying look, not one pitying, pitying, pitying look behind, no not one, no not one, not one pitying, pitying, pitying look behind, no not one, no not one, not one pitying, pitying, pitying look behind. _a new_ song. _the words by mr._ tho. wall. _set to musick by mr._ henry eccles, _junior._ [music] no more let _damon's_ eyes pursue, no more let _damon's_ eyes pursue, the bright enchanting fair; _almira_ thousands, thousands, thousands can undo, and thousands more, and thousands more, and thousands more may still despair, and thousands more may still despair. for oh her bright alluring eyes, and graces all admire; for her the wounded lover dies, and ev'ry breast, and ev'ry heart, and ev'ry breast is set on fire. then oh poor _damon_, see thy fate, but never more complain; for all a thousand hearts will stake, and all may sigh, and all may die, and all may sigh and die in vain. _the_ dear joy's _lamentation._ [music] ho my dear joy, now what dost thou think? hoop by my shoul our country-men stink; to _ireland_ they can never return, the hereticks there our houses will burn: _ah hone, ah hone, ah hone a cree._ a pox on _t----l_ for a son of a w----, he was the cause of our coming o'er; and when to _dublin_ we came to put on our coats, he told us his business was cutting of throats. _ah hone_, &c. our devil has left us now in the lurch, a plague light upon the _protestant_ c---- if _p----s_ had let but the bishops alone, o then the nation had all been our own. _ah hone_, &c. and i wish other measures had been taken, for now i fear we shan't save our bacon; now _orange_ to _london_ is coming down-right, and the soldiers against him resolve not to fight _ah hone_, &c. what we shall do, the lord himself knows, our army is beaten without any blows; our m----r begins to feel some remorse, for the grey mare has proved the better horse. _ah hone_, &c. if the _french_ do but come, which is all our hopes, we'll bundle the hereticks all up with ropes; if _london_ stands to us as _bristol_ has done, we need not fear but _orange_ must run. _ah hone_, &c. but if they prove false, and to _orange_ they scower, by g---- all the m---- shall play from the _tower_; our massacree fresh in their memories grown, the devil tauk me, we all shall go down. _a hone, a hone, a hone a cree._ _the character of a_ seat's-man; _written by one of the_ craft: _to be sung on_ crispin-night. _tune_ packington's pound. [music] i am one in whom nature has fix'd a decree, ordaining my life to happy and free; with no cares of the world i am never perplex'd, and never depending, i never am vex'd: i'm neither of so high nor so low a degree, but ambition and want are both strangers to me; my life is a compound of freedom and ease, i go where i will, and i work when i please: i live above envy, and yet above spight, and have judgment enough for to do my self right; some greater and richer i own there may be, yet as many live worse, as live better than me, and few that from cares live so quiet and free. when money comes in i live well 'till it's gone, so with it i'm happy, content when i've none: i spend it genteelly, and never repent, if i lose it at play, why i count it but lent: for that which at one time i lose among friends, another night's winnings still makes me amends: and though i'm without the first day of the week, i still make it out by shift or by tick: in mirth at my work the swift hours do pass, and by _saturday_ night, i'm as rich as i was. then let masters drudge on, and be slaves to their trade, let their hours of pleasure by business be stay'd; let them venture their stocks to be ruin'd by trust, let clickers bark on the whole day at their post: let 'em tire all that pass with their rotified cant, "will you buy any shoes, pray see what you want"; let the rest of the world still contend to be great, let some by their losses repine at their fate: let others that thrive, not content with their store, be plagu'd with the trouble and thoughts to get more. let wise men invent, 'till the world be deceived, let fools thrive thro' fortune, and knaves be believed; let such as are rich know no want, but content, let others be plagu'd to pay taxes and rent: with more freedom and pleasure my time i'll employ, and covet no blessings but what we enjoy. then let's celebrate _crispin_ with bumpers and songs, and they that drink foul, may it blister their tongues, here's two in a hand, and let no one deny 'em, since _crispin_ in youth was a _seat's-man_ as i am. _the female scuffle. to the foregoing tune._ of late in the park a fair fancy was seen, betwixt an old _baud_ and a lusty young _quean_; their parting of money began the uproar, i'll have half says the _baud_, but you shan't says the _whore_: why 'tis my own house, i care not a louse, i'll ha' three parts in four, or you get not a souse. 'tis i, says the _whore_, must take all the pains, and you shall be damn'd e'er you get all the gains; the _baud_ being vex'd, straight to her did say, come off wi' your _duds_, and i pray pack away, and likewise your _ribbonds_, your _gloves_, and your _hair_, for naked you came, and so out you go bare; then _buttocks_ so bold, began for to scold, _hurrydan_ was not able her _clack_ for to hold. both _pell-mell_ fell to't, and made this uproar, with these compliments, th'art a _baud_, th'art a _whore_: the _bauds_ and the _buttocks_ that liv'd there around, came all to the case, both _pockey_ and _sound_, to see what the reason was of this same fray, that did so disturb them before it was day; if i tell you amiss, let me never more piss, this _buttocks_ so bold she named was _siss_. by _quiffing_ with _cullies_ three pound she had got, and but one part of four must fall to her lot; yet all the _bauds_ cry'd, let us turn her out bare, unless she will yield to return her half share; if she will not, we'll help to strip off her cloaths, and turn her abroad with a slit o' the nose: who when she did see, there was no remedy, for her from the tyranous _bauds_ to get free; the _whore_ from the money was forced to yield, and in the conclusion the _baud_ got the field. _an elegy on_ mountfort. _to the foregoing tune._ poor _mountfort_ is gone, and the ladies do all break their hearts for this beau, as they did for _duvall_; and they the two brats for this tragedy damn at _kensington_ court, and the court of _bantam_, they all vow and swear, that if any peer, should acquit this young lord, he shou'd pay very dear; nor will they be pleased with him who on the throne is, if he do's not his part to revenge their _adonis_. with the widow their amorous bowels do yearn, there are divers pretend to an equal concern; and by her perswasion their hearts they reveal, in case if not guilty, to bring an appeal: they all will unite, the young blade to indite, and in prosecution will joyn day and night; in the mean time full many a tear and a groan is, wherever they meet, for their departed _adonis_. with the ladies foul murther's a horrible sin of one handsome without, tho' a coxcomb within; for not being a beau, the sad fate of poor _crab_, tho' himself hang'd for love, was a jest to each drab; then may _jering_ live long, and may _risby_ among the fair with _jack barkley_, and _culpepper_ throng: may no ruffin whose heart as hard as a stone is, kill any of those for a brother _adonis_. no lady henceforth can be safe with her beau, they think if this slaughter unpunish'd should go; their gallants, for whose persons they most are in pain, must no sooner be envy'd, but strait must be slain: for all _b----_ shape, none car'd for the rape, nor whether the virtuous their lust did escape; their trouble of mind, and their anguish alone is, for the too sudden fate of departed _adonis_. let not every vain spark think that he can engage, the heart of a female, like one on the stage; his flute, and his voice, and his dancing are rare, and wherever they meet, they prevail with the fair: but no quality fop, charms like mr. _hop_, adorn'd on the stage, and in _east-india_ shop; so that each from _miss felton_, to ancient _drake joan_ is, bemoaning the death of the player _adonis_. yet _adonis_ in spight of this new abjuration, did banter the lawful king of this great nation: who call'd god's anointed a foolish old prig, was both a base and unmannerly _whigg_: but since he is dead no more shall be said, for he in repentance has laid down his head; so i wish each lady, who in mournful tone is, in charity grieve for the death of _adonis_. _a_ song. _set by mr._ james townshend, _organist of_ lyn riges. _the words by_ j.r. [music] fly _damon_ fly, 'tis death to stay, nor listen to the _syren's_ song; nor hear her warbling fingers play, that kills in consort with her tongue: oft to despairing shepherds verse, unmov'd she tunes the trembling strings; oft does some pitying words rehearse, but little means the thing she sings. cease on her lovely looks to gaze, nor court your ruin in her eyes; her looks too 's dangerous as her face, at once engages and destroys: speak not if you'd avoid your fate, for then she darts resentment home; but fly, fly _damon_ e'er too late, or else be deaf, be blind, be dumb. mercury _to_ paris, _in the prize musick, compos'd by mr._ john eccles. [music] fear not mortal, none shall harm thee, with this sacred rod i'll charm thee; freely gaze, and view all over, thou mayst every grace discover: though a thousand darts fly round thee, fear not mortal, none can wound thee; _though a thousand darts fly round thee,_ _fear not mortal, none can wound thee._ _a_ song. _set by mr._ w. morley. [music] born to surprize the world, born to surprize the world, and teach the great, the slippery danger of exalted state; victorious _marlborough_, victorious _marlborough_, to battle flies, arm'd, arm'd with new lightning from bright _anna's_ eyes: wonders, wonders like these no former age has seen, the subjects heroes, the subjects heroes, and a saint the queen. _a_ song. _set by mr._ j. isum. [music] in vain, in vain, in vain, in vain, in vain, in vain the god i ask, he'll ne'er remove the dart; and still i love the pretty, pretty boy, altho', altho' he wound my heart: henceforth i'll be contented then, no more will i desire; no, no, no more, no, no, no more will i desire, to slight her whom i love so much, that but creates the fire: well might i expect the fate, as well as any other; since he ne'er spares the gods themselves, nor does he spare his mother. _an amorous_ song. _to the tune of_, the bonny christ-church bells. [music] see how fair and fine she lies, upon her bridal bed; no lady at the court, so fit for the sport, oh she look'd so curiously white and red: after the first and second time, the weary bridegroom slacks his pace; but oh! she cries, come, come my joy, and cling thy cheek close to my face: tinkle, tinkle, goes the bell under the bed, whilst time and touch they keep; then with a kiss, they end their bliss, and so fall fast asleep. _a_ song. _set by mr._ j. isum. [music] _corinna_ if my fate's to love you, _corinna_ if my fate's to love you, where's the harm in saying so? _corinna_ if my fate's to love you, where's the harm in saying so? why shou'd my sighs, why shou'd my sighs, why shou'd my sighs and fondness move you? to encrease, to encrease your shepherd's woe: flame pent in still burns and scorches, 'till it burns a lover's heart: love declar'd like lighted torches, wastes it self and gives less pain: love declar'd like lighted torches, wastes it self, wastes it self, wastes it self, and gives less smart. _a_ song. _set by mr._ john isum. [music] _cælia's_ charms are past expressing, were she kind as she is fair; _cælia's_ charms are past expressing, were she kind as she is fair: heav'ns cou'd grant no greater blessing, nor earth a nymph more worth our care; heav'ns cou'd grant no greater blessing, nor earth a nymph, nor earth a nymph more worth our care. but unkindness, unkindness mars her beauty, and useless makes that heav'nly, that heav'nly, that heav'nly frame; but unkindness mars her beauty, and useless makes that heav'nly, heav'nly frame: while she mistakes and calls that duty, which ill nature others name: while she mistakes and calls that duty, which ill nature others name. _the hopeful bargain: or a fare for a hackney-coachman, giving a comical relation, how an_ ale-draper _at the sign of the_ double-tooth'd rake _in or near the new_ palace-yard, westminster, _sold his wife for a shilling, and how she was sold a second time for five shillings to_ judge; _my lord ---- coachman, and how her husband receiv'd her again after she had lain with other folks three days and nights_, &c. _the tune_ lilly bullero. [music] there lives an ale-draper near _new-palace-yard_, who used to jerk the bum of his wife; and she was forced to stand on her guard, to keep his clutches from her quoiff: she poor soul the weaker vessel, to be reconcil'd was easily won; he held her in scorn, but she crown'd him with horn, _without hood or scarff, and rough as she run._ he for a shilling sold his spouse, and she was very willing to go; and left the poor cuckold alone in the house, that he by himself his horn might blow: a hackney coachman he did buy her, and was not this a very good fun; with a dirty pinner, as i am a sinner, _without hood or scarff, but rough as she run._ the woman gladly did depart, between three men was handed away; he for her husband did care not a fart, he kept her one whole night and day: then honest _judge_ the coachman bought her, and was not this most cunningly done? gave for her five shilling, to take her was willing, _without hood or scarff_, &c. the cuckold to _judge_, a letter did send, wherein he did most humbly crave; quoth he, i prithee, my rival friend, my spouse again i fain would have: and if you will but let me have her, i'll pardon what she e'er has done; i swear by my maker, again i will take her, _without hood and scarff_, &c. he sent an old baud to interceed, and to perswade her to come back; that he might have one of her delicate breed, and he would give her a ha'p'uth of sack: therefore prithee now come to me, or else poor i shall be undone: then do not forgo me, but prithee come to me, _without hood or scarff, tho' rough_, &c. the coachman then with much ado, did suffer the baud to take her out; upon the condition that she would be true, and let him have now and then a bout: but he took from her forty shillings, and gave her a parting glass at the _sun_; and then with good buyt' ye, discharged his duty, _and turn'd her a grazing, rough as she run._ the cuckold invited the coachman to dine, and gave him a treat at his own expence; they drown'd all cares in full brimmers of wine, he made him as welcome as any prince: there was all the hungregation, which from _cuckolds-point_ was come; they kissed and fumbled, they touzed and tumbled, _he was glad to take her rough as she run._ _judge_ does enjoy her where he list, he values not the old cuckold's pouts; and she is as good for the game as e'er pist, fudge on his horns sits drying of clouts: she rants and revels when she pleases, and to end as i begun, the horned wise-acre, is forced to take her _without hood or scarff, and rough as she run._ _the_ maiden lottery: _containing thousand tickets, at a guinea each; the prizes being rich and loving husbands, from three thousand to one hundred a year, which lottery will begin to draw on next_ valentine's _day._ _then pretty lasses venture now,_ _kind_ fortune _may her smiles alow._ [music] young ladies that live in the city, sweet beautiful proper and tall; and country maids who dabling wades, here's happy good news for you all: a lottery now out of hand, erected will be in the _strand_; young husbands with treasure, and wealth out of measure will fairly be at your command: _of her that shall light of a fortunate lot,_ _there's six of three thousand a year to be got._ i tell you the price of each ticket, it is but a guinea, i'll vow; then hasten away, and make no delay, and fill up the lottery now: if _gillian_ that lodges in straw, shall have the good fortune to draw a knight or a 'squire, he'll never deny her, 'tis fair and according to law; _then come pretty lasses and purchase a lot,_ _there's ten of two thousand a year to be got._ the number is seventy thousand, when all the whole lot is compleat; five hundred of which, are prizes most rich, believe me for this is no cheat: there's drapers and taylors likewise, brave men that you cannot despise; come _bridget_ and _jenny_, and throw in your guinea, a husband's a delicate prize: _then come pretty lasses and purchase a lot,_ _there's ten of one thousand a year to be got._ suppose you should win for your guinea, a man of three thousand a year; would this not be brave; what more would you have? you soon might in glory appear: in glittering coach you may ride, with lackeys to run by your side; for why should you spare it? faith win gold and wear it; now who would not be such a bride? _then come pretty lasses and purchase a lot,_ _there's sixty, five hundreds a year to be got._ old widows, and maids above forty, shall not be admitted to draw: there's five hundred and ten, as proper young men, indeed, as your eyes ever saw: who scorns for one guinea of gold, to lodge with a woman that's old; young maids are admitted, in hopes to be fitted, with husbands couragious and bold: _then come pretty lasses and purchase a lot,_ _there are wealthy kind husbands now, now to be got._ kind men that are full of good nature, the flaxen, the black, and the brown; both lusty and stout, and fit to hold out, the prime and the top of the town: so clever in every part, they'll please a young girl to the heart; nay, kiss you, and squeese you, and tenderly please you, for love has a conquering dart: _then come pretty lasses and purchase a lot,_ _there are wealthy kind husbands now, now to be got._ then never be fearful to venture, but girls bring you guineas away; come merrily in, for we shall begin, to draw upon _valentine's_ day: the prizes are many and great, each man with a worthy estate; then come away _mary_, _sib_, _susan_, and _sarah_, _joan_, _nancy_, and pretty fac'd _kate_: _for now is the time if you'll purchase a lot,_ _while wealthy kind husbands they are to be got._ amongst you i know there is many, will miss of a capital prize: yet nevertheless, no sorrows express, but dry up your watry eyes: young lasses it is but in vain, in sorrowful sighs to complain; then ne'er be faint hearted, tho' luck be departed, for all cannot reckon to gain: _yet venture young lasses, your guineas bring in,_ _the lucky will have the good fortune to win._ _a_ song _on the_ jubilee. [music] come beaus, virtuoso's, rich heirs and musicians away, and in troops to the _jubile_ jog; leave discord and death, to the college physicians, let the vig'rous whore on, and the impotent flog: already _rome_ opens her arms to receive ye, and ev'ry transgression her lord will forgive ye. indulgences, pardons, and such holy lumber, as cheap there is now as our cabbages grown; while musty old relicks of saints without number, for barely the looking upon, shall be shown: these, were you an atheist, must needs overcome ye, that first were made martyrs, and afterwards mummy. they'll shew ye the river, so sung by the poets, with the rock from whence, mortals were knockt o'th' head; they'll shew ye the place too, as some will avow it, where once a she pope was brought fairly to bed: for which, ever since, to prevent interloping, in a chair her successors still suffer a groping. what a sight 'tis to see the gay idol accoutred, with mitre and cap, and two keys by his side; be his inside what 'twill, yet the pomp of his outward, shows _servus servorum_, no hater of pride, these keys into heav'n will as surely admit ye, as clerks of a parish to a pew in the city. what a sight 'tis to see the old man in procession, through _rome_ in such pomp as here _cæsar_ did ride, now scattering of pardons, here crossing, there blessing, with all his shav'd spiritual train'd-bans by his side; as, _confessors_, _cardinals_, _monks_ fat as bacons, from rev'rend _arch-bishops_, to rosie _arch-deacons_. then for your diversion the more to regale ye, fine music you'll hear, and high dancing you'll see; men who much shall out-warble your famous _fideli_, and make ye meer fools, of _balloon_ and _l'abbe_: and to shew ye how fond they're to kiss _vostre manos_, each _padre_ turns pimp, all _nuns_ courtezana's. and when you've some months at old _babylon_ been-_a_, and on pardons, and punks, all your _rhino_ is spent; and when you have seen all, that there is to be seen-_a_, you'll return not so rich, tho' as wise as you went: and 'twill be but small comfort after so much expence-_a_, that your heirs will do just so an hundred years hence-_a_. _a young man's_ will. [music] a _young man_ sick and like to die, his last _will_ being written found; i give my _soul_ to _god_ on high, and my _body_ to the ground: unto some _church-men_ do i give, base minds to greedy lucre bent; _pride_ and _ambition_ whilst they live, _by this my_ will _and_ testament. _item._ poor folks _brown bread_ i give, and eke _bare bones_, with hungry cheeks; _toil_ and _travel_ whilst they live, and to feed on _roots_ and _leeks_: _item._ to rich men i bestow, high _looks_, low _deeds_, and hearts of flint; and that themselves they seldom know, _by this_, &c. proud stately _courtiers_ do i _will_, two faces in one head to wear, for great men _bribes_, i think most fit, _pride_ and _oppression_ through the year: _tenants_ i give them leave to lose, and _landlords_ for to raise their _rent_; _rogues_ to fawn, collogue and glose, _by this_, &c. _item._ to _soldiers_ for their _fees_, i give them _wounds_ their bodies full; and for to beg on bended knees, with cap in hand to every _gull_: _item_. i will poor _scholars_ have, for all their pains and travel spent: _raggs_, _jaggs_, and _taunts_ of every knave, _by this my_ will _and_ testament. to _shoemakers_ i grant this boon, which _mercury_ gave them once before; altho' they earn two pence by noon, to spend e'er night two groats and more: and _blacksmiths_ when the work is done, i give to them incontinent, to drink two barrels with a bun, _by this my_ will _and_ testament. to _weavers_ swift, this do i leave, against that may beseem them well: that they their good wives do deceive, bring home a yard and steal an ell: and _taylors_ too must be set down, a _gift_ to give them i am bent; to cut four sleeves to every gown, _by this_, &c. to tavern haunters grant i more, red eyes, red nose, and stinking breath; and doublets foul with drops before, and foul shame until their _death_: and _gamesters_ that will never leave, before their substance be all spent; the wooden _dagger_ i bequeath, _by this_, &c. to common fidlers i _will_ that they, shall go in poor and thread-bare coats; and at most places where they play, to carry away more _tunes_ than _groats_: to wand'ring _players_ i do give, before their _substance_ be all spent; proud silk'n _beggars_ for to live, _by this_, &c. to _wenching_ smell-smocks give i these, dead looks, gaunt purrs, and crasy back; and now and then the foul _disease_, such as _gill_ gave to _jack_; to _parretors_ i give them clear, for all their _toil_ and _travel_ spent; the _devil_ away such _knaves_ to bear, by _this my_ will _and_ testament. i _will_ that _cutpurses_ haunt all _fairs_, and thrust among the thickest throng; that neither _purse_ nor _pocket_ spare, but what they get to bear along: but if they falter in their trade, and so betray their bad intent; i give them _tyburn_ for their share, _by this my_ will _and_ testament. to serving men i give this gift, that when their strength is once decay'd; the master of such men do shift, as horsemen do a toothless _jade_: _item._ i give them leave to _pine_, for all their service so ill spent: and with _duke humphry_ for to dine, _by this_, &c. _item._ to _millers_ i grant withal, that they spare, nor poke, nor sack; but with _grist_, so e'er befal, they grind a strike, and steal a peck: i _will_ that _butchers_ huff their meat, and sell a lump of _ramish_ scent; for weather mutton good and sweet, _by this_, &c. i _will_ ale wives punish their guests, with hungry cakes and little canns; and barm their drink with new found _yeest_, such as is made of _pispot_ grounds: and she that meaneth for to gain, and in her house have money spent, i _will_ she keep a pretty punck, _by this my_ will _and_ testament. to jealous husbands i do grant, lack of pleasure, want of sleep; that lanthorn horns they never want, tho' ne'er so close their wives they keep: and for their wives, i _will_ that they, the closer up that they are pent; the closer still they seek to play, _by this my_ will _and_ testament. for swearing _swaggerers_ nought is left, to give them for a parting blow; but leaving off of damned oaths, and that of them i will bestow: _item._ i give them for their pain, that when all hope and livelihood's spent, a wallet or a hempen chain, _by this_ &c. time and longest livers do i make, the supervisor of my _will_: my gold and silver let them take, that will dig for't in _malvein_ hill. _a new_ song, _sung at the playhouse. by mr._ dogget. [music] in the devil's country there lately did dwell, a crew of such whores as was ne'er bred in hell, the devil himself he knows it full well, _which no body can deny, deny;_ _which no body can deny._ there were six of the gang, and all of a bud, which open'd as soon as got into the blood, there are five to be hang'd, when the other proves good, _which no body_, &c. but it seems they have hitherto sav'd all their lives, since they cou'd not live honest, there's four made wives, the other two they are not marry'd but sw----s, _which no body_, &c. the eldest the matron of t'other five imps, though as chast as _diana_, or any o'th' nymphs, yet rather than daughter shall want it, she pimps, _which no body_, &c. damn'd proud and ambitious both old and the young, and not fit for honest men to come among, a damn'd itch in their tail, and a sting in their tongue, _sing tantara rara whores all, whores all,_ _sing tantara rara whores all._ _a_ song. [music] marriage it seems is for better for worse, some count it a blessing and others a curse; the cuckolds are blest if the proverb prove true, and then there's no doubt but in heav'n there's enough: of honest rich rogues who ne'er had got there, if their wives had not sent them thro' trembling and fear. some women are honest, tho' rare in a wife, yet with scolding and brawling they'll shorten your life, you ne'er can enjoy your bottle and friend; but your wife like an imp, is at your elbow's end: crying fie, fie you sot, come, come, come, come, so these are unhappy abroad and at home. we find the batchelor liveth best, tho' drunk or sober he takes his rest; he never is troubl'd with scolding or strife, 'tis the best can be said of a very good wife: but merrily day and night does spend, enjoying his mistress, bottle, and friend. a woman out-wits us, do what we can, she'll make a fool of ev'ry wise man; old mother _eve_ did the _serpent_ obey, and has taught all her sex that damnable way: of cheating and couzening all mankind, 'twere better if _adam_ had still been blind. the poor man that marries he thinks he does well, i pity's condition, for sure he's in hell; the fool is a sotting and spends all he gets, the child is a bawling, the wife daily frets: that marriage is pleasant we all must agree, consider it well, there's none happier can be. _a_ song. [music] the _caffalier_ was gone, and the _roundhead_ he was come, was the greatest blessing under the sun; before the devil in hell sally'd out, and ript the placket of letter, ay, and take her money too, _cot bless hur master_ roundhead, _and send hur well to do._ now hur can go to _shrewsperry_ her flannel for to sell, hur can carry a creat sharge of money about hur, thirty or forty groats lap'd in a _welsh_ carter, ay, and think hur self rich too, _cot bless_, &c. now hur can coe to shurch, or hur can stay at home, hur can say hur _lord's prayer_, or hur can let it alone: hur can make a prayer of hur own head, lye with hur holy sister, ay, and say a long crace too, _cot bless_, &c. but yet for all the great cood that you for hur have done, would you wou'd made peace with our king, and let hur come home, put off the military charge, impost, and excise, ay, and free quarter too. _then cot shall bless you master_ roundhead, _and send hur well to do._ _a_ song _sung by mrs._ cross. _set by mr._ jeremiah clark. [music] divine _astrea_ hither flew, to _cynthia's_ brighter throne; she left the iron world below, to bless the silver moon: _she left the iron world below,_ _to bless the silver moon._ tho' _phoebus_ with his hotter beams, do's gold in earth create; that leads those wretches to extreams, of av'rice, lust, and hate. _a_ song _in the_ surpriz'd lovers. _set by mr._ john eccles, _sung by mr._ bowman. [music] when first i saw her charming face, her taking shape and moving grace; my rosie cheeks, my rosie cheeks did glow with heat, my heart and my pulse did beat, beat, beat, my heart and my pulse did beat; i wish'd for a, i wish'd for a, do you, do you guess what, do you guess what makes soldiers fight, soldiers fight, and states-men plot. subdues us all in every thing, and makes, makes a subject of a king; still she deny'd, and i reply'd, away she flew, i did pursue, at last i catch'd her fast; but oh! had you seen, but oh! had you seen, had you seen what had past between; oh! i fear, i fear, oh! i fear, i fear, oh! i fear, i fear, i fear, i have spoil'd her wast. _a_ song. _set by mr._ akeroyd. [music] the _devil_ he pull'd of his jacket of flame, the _fryer_ he pull'd off his cowle; the _devil_ took him for a dunce of the game, and the _fryer_ took him for a fool: he piqu'd, and repiqu'd so oft, that at last, he swore by the jolly fat _nuns_; if cards came no better than those that are past, oh! oh! i shall lose all my _buns_. _a new_ song. _translated from the_ french. [music] pretty parret say, when i was away, and in dull absence pass'd the day; what at home was doing; with chat and play, we are gay, night and day, good chear and mirth renewing; _singing, laughing all, singing laughing all, like pretty pretty_ poll. was no fop so rude, boldly to intrude, and like a sawcy lover wou'd, court, and teaze my lady: a thing you know, made for show, call'd a beau, near her was always ready, _ever at her call, like pretty, pretty_ poll. tell me with what air, he approach'd the fair, and how she could with patience bear, all he did and utter'd; he still address'd, still caress'd, kiss'd and press'd, sung, prattl'd, laugh'd, and flutter'd: _well receiv'd in all, like pretty, pretty_ poll. did he go away, at the close of the day, or did he ever use to stay in a corner dodging; the want of light, when 'twas night, spoil'd my sight, but i believe his lodging, _was within her call, like pretty, pretty_ poll. _a_ song _by a person of honour. set by mr._ john weldon. [music] at noon in a sultry summer's day, the brightest lady of the _may_, young _chloris_ innocent and gay, sat knotting in a shade: each slender finger play'd its part, with such activity and art; as wou'd inflame a youthful heart, and warm the most decay'd. her fav'rite swain by chance came by; she had him quickly in her eye, yet when the bashful boy drew nigh, she wou'd have seem'd afraid, she let her iv'ry needle fall, and hurl'd away the twisted ball; then gave her _strephon_ such a call, as wou'd have wak'd the dead. dear gentle youth is't none but thee? with innocence i dare be free; by so much trust and modesty, no nymph was e'er betray'd, come lean thy head upon my lap, while thy soft cheeks i stroak and clap; thou may'st securely take a nap, which he poor fool, obey'd. she saw him yawn, and heard him snore, and found him fast a sleep all o're; she sigh'd ---- and cou'd no more, but starting up she said, such vertue shou'd rewarded be, for this thy dull fidelity; i'll trust thee with my flocks, not me, pursue thy grazing trade. go milk thy goats, and sheer thy sheep, and watch all night thy flocks, to keep; thou shalt no more be lull'd asleep, by me mistaken maid. _a_ song. _set by mr._ jeremy clark. [music] while the lover is thinking, with my friend i'll be drinking and with vigour pursue my delight; while the fool is designing, his fatal confining, with _bacchus_ i'll spend the whole night: with the god i'll be jolly, without madness or folly. fickle woman to marry implore, leave my bottle and friend, for so foolish an end, when i do, may i never drink more. _a health to the_ tackers. [music] here's a health to the tackers, my boys, but mine a----se for the tackers about; may the brave _english_ spirits come in, and the knaves and _fanaticks_ turn out: since the _magpyes_ of late, are confounding the state, and wou'd pull our establishments down; let us make 'em a jest, for they shit in their nest, and be true to the church and the crown. let us chuse such parliament men as have stuck to their principles tight; and wou'd not their country betray in the story of _ashby_ and _white_: who care not a t----d, for a _whig_, or a lord, that won't see our accounts fairly stated; for _c----ll_ ne'er fears, the address of those peers, who the nation of millions have cheated. the next thing adviseable is, since _schism_ so strangely abounds; to oppose e'ery man that's set up by _dissenters_, in corporate towns: for _high-church_, and _low-church_, has brought us to no _church_, and conscience so bubbl'd the nation; for who is not still for conformity bill, will be surely a r---- on occasion. _a_ song. _set by mr._ anthony young. [music] since _cælia_ only has the art, and only she can captivate, and wanton in my breast; all other pleasure i despise, than what are from my _cælia's_ eyes, in her alone i'm blest. whene'er she smiles, new life she gives, and happy, happy who receives, from her inchanting breath; then prithee _cælia_ smile once more, since i no longer must adore, for when you frown 'tis death. _a_ song. [music] ah! how lovely sweet and dear, is the kind relenting fair, who reprieve us in despair; oh! that thus my nymph wou'd say, come, come my dear thy cares repay, be blest my love, be mine to day: _come, come my dear, thy cares repay,_ _be blest my love, be mine to day._ _a_ song. _sung by mrs._ bracegirdle. [music] advance, advance, advance gay tenants of the plain, advance, advance, advance, gay tenants of the plain, loud eccho spread my voice, loud eccho spread my voice, loud eccho, loud eccho, loud eccho, loud eccho, loud eccho, spread my voice, advance, advance, advance, gay tenants of the plain, advance, advance, advance, gay tenants of the plain. _the_ king _and the shepherd, and_ gillian _the shepherd's wife, with her churlish answer to the_ king. [music] in elder time, there was of yore, when guides of churlish glee; were us'd among our country earls, though no such thing now be. the which king _alfred_ liking well, forsook his stately court; and in disguise unknown went forth, to see that jovial sport. how _dick_ and _tom_, in clouted shoon, and coats of russet grey, esteem'd themselves more brave than them, that went in golden ray. in garments fit for such a life, the good king _alfred_ went, all ragg'd and torn, as from his back the beggar his cloaths had rent. a sword and buckler good and strong, to give _jack sauce_ a rap; and on his head, instead of crown, he wore a _monmouth_ cap. thus coasting through _somersetshire_, near _newton_ court he met a shepherd swain of lusty limb, that up and down did jet. he wore a bonnet of good grey, close buttoned to his chin; and at his back a leather scrip, with much good meat therein. god speed, good shepherd, quoth the king, i come to be thy guest; to taste of thy good victuals here, and drink that's of the best. thy scrip i know, hath cheer good store, what then the shepherd said? thou seem'st to be some sturdy thief, and mak'st me sore afraid. yet if thou wilt thy dinner win, the sword and buckler take; and if thou canst into my scrip, therewith an entrance make. i tell thee, roister, it hath store of beef, and bacon fat; with sheafs of barly-bread to make thy mouth to water at. here stands my bottle, here my bag, if thou canst win them roister; against the sword and buckler here, my sheep-hook is my master. _benedicit_ now, quoth our good king, it never shall be said; that _alfred_ of the shepherd's hook, will stand a whit afraid. so soundly thus they both fell to't, and giving bang for bang; at every blow the shepherd gave, king _alfred's_ sword cry'd twang. his buckler prov'd his chiefest fence, for still the shepherd's hook; was that the which king _alfred_ could, in no good manner brook. at last when they had fought four hours, and it grew just mid-day; and wearied both, with right good will, desir'd each others stay. king, truce i cry, quoth _alfred_ then, good shepherd hold thy hand: a sturdier fellow than thy self, lives not within this land. nor a lustier roister than thou art, the churlish shepherd said, to tell thee plain, thy thievish looks, now makes my heart afraid. else sure thou art some prodigal, which hast consum'd thy store; and now com'st wand'ring in this place, to rob and steal for more. deem not of me, then quoth our king, good shepherd in this sort; a gentleman well known i am, in good king _alfred's_ court. the devil thou art, the shepherd said, thou goest in rags all torn; thou rather seem'st, i think to be, some beggar basely born. but if thou wilt mend thy estate, and here a shepherd be; at night to _gillian_ my sweet wife, thou shalt go home with me. for she's as good a toothless dame, as mumbleth on brown bread; where thou shalt lie on hurden sheets, upon a fresh straw bed. of whig and whey, we have good store, and keep good pease-straw fires; and now and then good barly cakes, as better days requires. but for my master which is chief, and lord of _newton_ court; he keeps i say, his shepherds swains, in far more braver sort. we there have curds, and clouted cream, of red cows morning milk; and now and then fine buttered cakes, as soft as any silk. of beef and reised bacon store, that is most fat and greasy; we have likewise to feast our chaps, and make them glib and easie. thus if thou wilt my man become, this usage thou shalt have; if not, adieu, go hang thy self, and so farewel sir knave. king _alfred_ hearing of this glee, the churlish shepherd said; was well content to be his man, so they a bargain made. a penny round, the shepherd gave, in earnest of this match; to keep his sheep in field and fold, as shepherds use to watch. his wages shall be full ten groats, for service of a year; yet was it not his use, old lad, to hire a man so dear. for did the king himself (quoth he) unto my cottage come; he should not for a twelvemonths pay, receive a greater sum. hereat the bonny king grew blith, to hear the clownish jest; how silly sots, as custom is, do discant at the best. but not to spoil the foolish sport, he was content good king; to fit the shepherd's humour right, in every kind of thing. a sheep-hook then, with _patch_ his dog, and tar-box by his side; he with his master, jig by jowl, unto old _gillian_ hy'd. into whose sight no sooner came, whom have you here (quoth she) a fellow i doubt, will cut our throats, so like a knave looks he. not so old dame, quoth _alfred_ strait, of me you need not fear; my master hir'd me for ten groats, to serve you one whole year. so good dame _gillian_ grant me leave, within your house to stay; for by st. _ann_, do what you can, i will not yet away. her churlish usage pleas'd him still, put him to such a proof, that he at night was almost choak'd, within that smoaky roof. but as he sat with smiling cheer, the event of all to see; his dame brought forth a piece of dow, which in the fire throws she. where lying on the hearth to bake, by chance the cake did burn; what can'st thou not, thou lout (quoth she) take pains the same to turn: thou art more quick to take it out, and eat it up half dow, than thus to stay till't be enough, and so thy manners show. but serve me such another trick, i'll thwack thee on the snout; which made the patient king, good man, of her to stand in doubt: but to be brief, to bed they went, the good old man and's wife; but never such a lodging had king _alfred_ in his life: for he was laid in white sheeps wool, new pull'd from tanned fells, and o'er his head hang'd spiders webbs, as if they had been bells. is this the country guise, thought he, then here i will not stay; but hence be gone as soon as breaks the peeping of the day. the cackling hens and geese kept roost, and perched at his side; whereat the last the watchful cock, made known the morning tide. then up got _alfred_ with his horn, and blew so long a blast, that made _gillian_ and her groom, in bed full sore agast. arise, quoth she, we are undone, this night, we lodged have, at unawares within our house, a false dissembling knave; rise husband, rise, he'll cut our throats, he calleth for his mates, i'd give old _will_ our good cade lamb, he would depart our gates. but still king _alfred_ blew his horn before them, more and more, 'till that a hundred lords and knights, all lighted at the door: which cry'd all hail, all hail good king, long have we look'd your grace; and here you find (my merry men all) your sovereign in this place. we shall surely be hang'd up both, old _gillian_ i much fear, the shepherd said, for using thus our good king _alfred_ here: o pardon, my liege, quoth _gillian_ then, for my husband and for me, by these ten bones i never thought the same that now i see: and by my hook, the shepherd said, an oath both good and true, before this time, o noble king, i never your highness knew: then pardon me and my old wife, that we may after say, when first you came into our house, it was a happy day. it shall be done, said _alfred_ streight, and _gillian_ thy old dame, for this thy churlish using me, deserveth not much blame. for this thy country guise i see, to be thus bluntish still, and where the plainest meaning is, remains the smallest ill. and master, lo i tell thee now, for thy low manhood shown, a thousand weathers i'll bestow upon thee for thy own. and pasture ground, as much as will suffice to feed them all, and this thy cottage i will change into a stately hall. as for the same, as duty binds, the shepherd said, good king, a milk white lamb once every year, i'll to your highness bring. and _gillian_ my wife likewise, of wool to make you coats, will give you as much at new year's tide, as shall be worth ten groats: and in your praise my bagpipe shall sound sweetly once a year, how _alfred_ our renowned king, most kindly hath been here. thanks shepherd, thanks, quoth he again the next time i come hither, my lords with me here in this house, will all be merry together. _a_ song. _sung by mrs._ bracegirdle. [music] cease, cease of _cupid_ to complain, love, love's a joy even while a pain; oh! then think! oh! then think; oh! then think how great his blisses, moving glances, balmy kisses, charming raptures, matchless sweets, love, love alone, love, love alone, love, love alone, all joys compleats. _a_ song. _sung by mrs._ bracegirdle. [music] come, come ye nymphs, come ye nymphs and ev'ry swain, come ye nymphs and ev'ry swain, _galatea_ leaves the main, to revive us on the plain, to revive us, to revive us, to revive us on the plain; come, come, come, come ye nymphs, come ye nymphs and ev'ry swain, come ye nymphs and ev'ry swain, _galatea_ leaves the main, to revive us on the plain, to revive us on the plain, come ye nymphs and ev'ry swain. _a_ song. _set by mr._ john barret. [music] _ianthia_ the lovely, the joy of her swain, by _iphis_ was lov'd, and lov'd _iphis_ again; she liv'd in the youth, and the youth in the fair, their pleasure was equal, and equal their care; no time, no enjoyment their dotage withdrew; but the longer they liv'd, but the longer they liv'd, still the fonder they grew. a passion so happy alarm'd all the plain, some envy'd the nymph, but more envy'd the swain; some swore 'twould be pity their loves to invade, that the lovers alone for each other was made: but all, all consented, that none ever knew, a nymph yet so kind, a nymph yet so kind, or a shepherd so true. love saw 'em with pleasure, and vow'd to take care of the faithful, the tender, the innocent pair; what either did want, he bid either to move, but they wanted nothing, but ever to love: said, 'twas all that to bless him his god-head cou'd do, that they still might be kind, that they still might be kind, and they still might be true. _a_ song. [music] bring out your coney-skins bring out your coney-skins maids to me, and hold them fair that i may see, grey, black and blue, for the smaller skins i'll give you bracelets, laces, pins, and for your whole coney here's ready money, come gentle _joan_, do thou begin with thy black coney, thy black coney-skin, and _mary_ and _joan_ will follow, with their silver-hair'd skins and yellow; the white coney-skin i will not lay by, for tho' it be faint, it is fair to the eye: the grey it is worn, but yet for my money, give me the bonny, bonny black coney; come away fair maids, your skins will decay, come and take money maids, put your wares away: ha'ye any coney-skins, ha'ye any coney-skins, ha'ye any coney-skins here to sell? _a_ song. _the words by mr._ clossold, _set by mr._ john wilford. [music] nay pish, nay pish, nay pish sir, what ails you; lord! what is't you do? i ne'er met with one so uncivil as you; you may think as you please, but if evil it be, i wou'd have you to know, you're mistaken in me. you men now so rude, and so boistrous are grown, a woman can't trust her self with you alone: i cannot but wonder what 'tis that shou'd move ye; if you do so again, i swear, i swear, i swear, i swear, i swear i won't love ye. _a_ song. _set by mr._ motley. [music] draw _cupid_ draw, and make fair _sylvia_ know; the mighty pain her suff'ring swain does for her undergo; convey this dart into her heart, and when she's set on fire, do thou return and let her burn, like me in chast desire; that by experience she, may learn to pity me, whene'er her eyes do tyrannize o'er my captivity: but when in love we jointly move, and tenderly imbrace, like angels shine, and sweetly join to one another's face. _a_ song; _the words by a person of a quality. set to musick by mr._ robert cary. [music] some brag of their _chloris_, and some of their _phillis_, some cry up their _cælia_, and bright _amaryllis_: thus poets and lovers their mistresses dub, and goddesses fram'd from the wash-bowl and tub; but away with these fictions, and counterfeit folly: there's a thousand more charms in the name of my _dolly_. i cannot describe you her beauty and wit, like manna to each she's a relishing bit; she alone by enjoyment, the more does prevail, and still with fresh pleasures does hoist up your sail: nay, had you a surfeit, but took of all others, one look from my _dolly_ your stomach recovers. _the mountebank_ song. _sung by dr._ leverigo, _and his merry andrew_ pinkanello, _in_ farewel to folly. _set by mr._ leveridge. [music: here are people and sports of all sizes and sorts, coach'd damsel with squire, and mob in the mire, tarpaulins, trugmallions, lords, ladys, sows, babies, and loobys in scores. some howling, some bawling, some leering, some fleering, some loving, some shoving, with legions of furbelow'd whores. to the tavern, some go, and some to a show, see poppets for moppets, jack-puddings, for cuddens, rope dancing, mares prancing, boats flying, quacks lying, pick-pockets, pick plackets, beasts, butchers, and beaus. fops prat'ling, dies rat'ling, rooks shaming, puts daming, whores painted, mask's tainted, in tallymans furbelow'd cloaths. the mobs joys would you know to yon musick-house go, see tailors, and saylors, whores oily in doily, hear musick, makes you sick: cows skipping, clowns tripping, some joaking, some smoaking, like spiggit and tap; short measure, strange pleasure thus billing, and swilling, some yearly, get fairly, for fairings pig, pork, and a clap.] _the mountebank_ song. _set and sung by mr._ leveridge, _in a new play call'd_, farewel to folly. [music: see, sirs, see here! a doctor rare, who travels much at home! here take my bills, take my bills, i cure all ills, past, present, and to come; the cramp, the stitch, the squirt, the itch, the gout, the stone, the pox, the mulligrubs, the bonny scrubs, and all, all, all, all, all, _pandora's_ box; thousands i've dissected, thousands new erected, and such cures effected, as none e'er can tell. let the palsie shake ye, let the chollick rack ye, let the crinkums break ye, let the murrain take ye; take this, take this and you are well. thousands, &c. come wits so keen, devour'd with spleen; come beaus who sprain'd your backs, great-belly'd maids, old founder'd jades, and pepper'd vizard cracks. i soon remove the pains of love, and cure the love-sick maid; the hot, the cold, the young, the old, the living and the dead. i clear the lass with wainscot face, and from pim-ginets free, plump ladies red, like _saracen's_-head, with toaping rattafe. this with a jirk, will do your work, and scour you o're and o're, read, judge and try, and if you die, never believe me more, never, never, never, never, never believe me more.] _a_ song _in the_ mock marriage. _sung by mrs._ knight. _set by mr._ henry purcell. [music] oh! how you protest and solemnly swear, look humble, and fawn like an ass; i'm pleas'd, i must own, when ever i see a lover that's brought to this pass. keep, keep further off, you're naughty i fear, i vow i will never, will never, will never yield to't; you ask me in vain; for never i swear, i never, no never, i never, no never, i never, no never will do't. for when the deed's done, how quickly you go, no more of the lover remains, in hast you depart, whate'er we can do, and stubbornly throw off your chains: desist then in time, let's hear on't no more, i vow i will never yield to't; you promise in vain, in vain you adore, for i will never, no never will do't. jockey's _lamentation._ [music] _jockey_ met with _jenny_ fair betwixt the dawning and the day, and _jockey_ now is full of care, for _jenny_ stole his heart away: altho' she promis'd to be true, yet she, alas, has prov'd unkind, that which do make poor _jenny_ rue, for _jenny's_ fickle as the wind: and, _'tis o'er the hills, and far away,_ _'tis o'er the hills, and far away,_ _'tis o'er the hills, and far away,_ _the wind has blown my plad away._ _jockey_ was a bonny lad, as e'er was born in _scotland_ fair; but now poor _jockey_ is run mad, for _jenny_ causes his despair; _jockey_ was a piper's son, and fell in love while he was young: but all the tunes that he could play, was, _o'er the hills, and far away,_ and, _'tis o'er the hills, and far away,_ _'tis o'er the hills and far away,_ _'tis o'er the hills and far away,_ _the wind has blown my plad away._ when first i saw my _jenny's_ face, she did appear with sike a grace, with muckle joy my heart was fill'd; but now alas with sorrow kill'd. oh! was she but as true as fair, 'twou'd put an end to my despair; but ah, alass! this is unkind, which sore does terrify my mind; _'twas o'er the hills, and far away,_ _'twas o'er the hills, and far away,_ _'twas o'er the hills, and far away,_ _that_ jenny _stole my heart away._ did she but feel the dismal woe that for her sake i undergo, she surely then would grant relief, and put an end to all my grief: but oh, she is as false as fair, which causes all my sad despair; she triumphs in a proud disdain, and takes delight to see my pain; _'tis o'er the hills_, &c. hard was my hap to fall in love, with one that does so faithless prove; hard was my fate to court the maid, that has my constant heart betray'd: a thousand times to me she swore, she would be true for evermore: but oh! alas, with grief i say, she's stole my heart, and ran away; _'twas o'er the hills_, &c. good gentle _cupid_ take my part, and pierce this false one to the heart, that she may once but feel the woe, as i for her do undergo; oh! make her feel this raging pain, that for her love i do sustain; she sure would then more gentle be, and soon repent her cruelty; _'tis o'er the hills_, &c. i now must wander for her sake, since that she will no pity take, into the woods and shady grove, and bid adieu to my false love: since she is false whom i adore, i ne'er will trust a woman more, from all their charms i'll fly away, and on my pipe will sweetly play; _'tis o'er the hills_, &c. there by my self i'll sing and say, _'tis o'er the hills, and far away_, that my poor heart is gone astray, which makes me grieve both night and day; farewel, farewel, thou cruel she, i fear that i shall die for thee: but if i live, this vow i'll make, to love no other for your sake. _'tis o'er the hills, and far away,_ _'tis o'er the hills, and far away,_ _'tis o'er the hills, and far away,_ _the wind has blown my plad away._ the recruiting officer: _or_, the merry volunteers: _being an excellent new copy of verses upon raising recruits._ _to the foregoing tune._ hark! now the drums beat up again, for all true soldiers gentlemen, then let us list, and march i say, over the hills and far away; over the hills and o'er the main, to _flanders_, _portugal_ and _spain_, queen _ann_ commands, and we'll obey, _over the hills and far away_. all gentlemen that have a mind, to serve the queen that's good and kind; come list and enter into pay, then o'er the hills and far away; _over the hills_, &c. here's forty shillings on the drum, for those that volunteers do come, with shirts, and cloaths, and present pay, when o'er the hills and far away; _over the hills_, &c. hear that brave boys, and let us go, or else we shall be prest you know; then list and enter into pay, and o'er the hills and far away, _over the hills_, &c. the constables they search about, to find such brisk young fellows out; then let's be volunteers i say, over the hills and far away; _over the hills_, &c. since now the _french_ so low are brought, and wealth and honour's to be got, who then behind wou'd sneaking stay? when o'er the hills and far away; _over the hills_, &c. no more from sound of drum retreat, while _marlborough_, and _gallaway_ beat, the _french_ and _spaniards_ every day, when over the hills and far away; _over the hills_, &c. he that is forc'd to go and fight, will never get true honour by't, while volunteers shall win the day, when o'er the hills and far away; _over the hills_, &c. what tho' our friends our absence mourn, we all with honour shall return; and then we'll sing both night and day, over the hills and far away; _over the hills_, &c. the prentice _tom_ he may refuse, to wipe his angry master's shoes; for then he's free to sing and play, over the hills and far away; _over the hills_, &c. over rivers, bogs, and springs, we all shall live as great as kings, and plunder get both night and day, when over the hills and far away, _over the hills_, &c. we then shall lead more happy lives, by getting rid of brats and wives, that scold on both night and day, when o'er the hills and far away: _over the hills_, &c. come on then boys and you shall see, we every one shall captains be, to whore and rant as well as they, when o'er the hills and far away: _over the hills_, &c. for if we go 'tis one to ten, but we return all gentlemen, all gentlemen as well as they, when o'er the hills and far away: _over the hills_, &c. _a_ scotch song. _set by mr._ john barrett. [music] ah! foolish lass, what mun i do? my modesty i well may rue, which of my joy bereft me; for full of love he came, but out of silly shame, with pish and phoo i play'd, to muckle the coy maid, and the raw young loon has left me. wou'd _jockey_ knew how muckle i lue, did i less art, or did he shew, more nature, how bleast i'd be; i'd not have reason to complain, that i lue'd now in vain, gen he more a man was, i'd be less a coy lass, had the raw young loon weel try'd me. _a_ song _in the comedy call'd_ justice buisy, _or the_ gentleman quack: _set by mr._ john eccles, _sung by mrs._ bracegirdle. [music] no, no ev'ry morning my beauties renew, where-ever i go, i have lovers enough; i dress and i dance, and i laugh and i sing, am lovely and lively, and gay as the spring: i visit, i game, and i cast away care, mind lovers no more, than the birds of the air, mind lovers no more, than the birds of the air. _a_ song. _set by mr._ willis. [music] now my freedom's regain'd, and by _bacchus_ i swear, all whining dull whimsys of love i'll cashire: the charm's more engaging in bumpers of wine, then let _chloe_ be damn'd, but let this be divine: whilst youth warms thy veins, boy embrace thy full glasses, damn _cupid_ and all his poor proselyte asses; let this be thy rule _tom_, to square out thy life, and when old in a friend, thou'lt live free from all strife, only envied by him that is plagu'd with a wife. _a_ scotch song, _the words by mr._ peter noble, _set by mr._ john wilford. [music] bonny _scottish_ lads that keens me weel, lith ye what, ye what good luck ise fun; _moggey_ is mine own in spight o'th' de'el, i alone her heart has won: near st. _andrew's_ kirk in _london_ town, there ise, ise met my dearest joy; shinening in her silken hued and gown, but ne'er ack, ne'er ack she prov'd not coy. then after many compliments, streight we gang'd into the kirk; there full weel she tuck the documents, and flang me many pleasing smirk: weel i weat that i have gear enough, she's have a yode to ride ont; she's neither drive the swine, nor the plough, whatever does betide ont. _a new_ song _in the play call'd_, a duke and no duke. _sung by mrs._ cibber. [music] _damon_ if you will believe me, 'tis not sighing o'er the plain; songs nor sonnets can't relieve ye, faint attempts in love are vain: urge but home the fair occasion, and be master of the field; to a powerful kind invasion, 'twere a madness not to yield. tho' she vow's she'll ne'er permit ye, says you're rude, and much to blame; and with tears implores your pity, be not merciful for shame: when the first assault is over, _chloris_ time enough will find; this so fierce and cruel lover, much more gentle, not so kind. _a_ song. _the words made to a tune of the late mr._ henry purcell's. [music] drunk i was last night that's poss, my wife began to scold; say what i cou'd for my heart's blood, her clack she wou'd not hold: thus her chat she did begin, is this your time of coming in; the clock strikes one, you'll be undone, if thus you lead your life: my dear said i, i can't deny, but what you say is true; i do intend, my life to mend, pray lends the pot to spew. fye, you sot, i ne'er can bear, to rise thus e'ery night; tho' like a beast you never care, what consequence comes by't: the child and i may starve for you, we neither can have half our due; with grief i find, you're so unkind, in time you'll break my heart: at that i smil'd, and said dear child, i believe your in the wrong; but if't shou'd be you're destiny, i'll sing a merry song. _the gelding the devil. set by mr._ tho. wroth. [music] i met with the devil in the shape of a ram, then over and over the sow-gelder came; i rose and halter'd him fast by the horns, and pick'd out his stones, as you would pick out corns; maa, quoth the devil, with that out he slunk, and left us a carkass of mutton that stunk. i chanc'd to ride forth a mile and a half, where i heard he did live in disguise of a calf; i bound him and gelt him e'er he did any evil, for he was at the best but a young sucking devil: maa, yet he cries, and forth he did steal, and this was sold after for excellent veal. some half a year after in the form of a pig, i met with the rogue, and he look'd very big; i caught at his leg, laid him down on a log, e'er a man could fart twice, i made him a hog: huh, huh quoth the devil, and gave such a jerk, that a _jew_ was converted and eat of that pork. in woman's attire i met him most fine, at first sight i thought him some angel divine; but viewing his crab face i fell to my trade, i made him forswear ever acting a maid: meaw, quoth the devil, and so ran away, hid himself in a fryer's old weeds as they say. i walked along and it was my good chance, to meet with a black-coat that was in a trance; i speedily grip'd him and whip'd off his cods, 'twixt his head and his breech, i left little odds: o, quoth the devil, and so away ran, thou oft will be curst by many a woman. _a_ song. [music] when _jemmy_ first began to love, he was the finest swain; that ever yet a flock had drove, or danc'd upon the plain: 'twas then that i, woe's me poor heart, my freedom threw away; and finding sweets in every part, i could not say him nay. for ever when he spake of love, he wou'd his eyes decline; each sigh he gave a heart wou'd move, good faith, and why not mine: he'd press my hand, and kiss it oft, his silence spoke his flame; and whilst he treated me thus soft, i wish'd him more to blame. sometimes to feed my flock with his, _jemmy_ wou'd me invite; where he the finest songs would sing, me only to delight: then all his graces he display'd, which were enough i trow; to conquer any princely maid, so did he me i trow. but now for _jemmy_ i must mourn, he to the wars must go; his sheephook to a sword must turn, alack what shall i do? his bagpipes into warlike sounds, must now converted be; his garlands into fearful wounds, oh! what becomes of me? _a_ song; _to the tune of_ woobourn _fair._ vol. . pag. . jilting is in such a fashion, and such a fame, runs o'er the nation, there's never a dame of highest rank, or of fame, sir, but will stoop to your caresses, if you do but put home your addresses: it's for that she paints, and she patches, all she hopes to secure is her name, sir. but when you find the love fit comes upon her, never trust much to her honour; tho' she may very high stand on't, yet when her love is ascendant, her vertue's quite out of doors high breeding, rank feeding, with lazy lives leading, in ease and soft pleasures, and taking loose measures, with play-house diversions, and midnight excursions, with balls masquerading, and nights serenading, debauch the sex into whores, sir. _a_ song. _set by mr._ pack. [music] farewel ungrateful traytor, farewel my perjur'd swain: let never injur'd creature, believe a man again: the pleasure of possessing, surpasses all expressing; but joys too short a blessing, and love too long a pain: _but joys too short a blessing,_ _and love too long a pain._ 'tis easie to deceive us, in pity of your pain; but when we love, you leave us, to rail at you in vain: before we have descry'd it, there is no bliss beside it; but she that once has try'd it, will never love again. the passion you pretended, was only to obtain; but when the charm is ended, the charmer you disdain: your love by ours we measure, 'till we have lost our treasure; but dying is a pleasure, when living is a pain. _a_ song. [music] you i love by all that's true, more than all things here below; with a passion far more great, than e'er creature loved yet: and yet still you cry forbear, love no more, or love not here. bid the miser leave his ore, bid the wretched sigh no more; bid the old be young again, bid the _nun_ not think of man: _sylvia_ thus when you can do, bid me then not think on you. love's not a thing of choice, but fate, what makes me love, that makes you hate: _sylvia_ you do what you will, ease or cure, torment or kill: be kind or cruel, false or true, love i must, and none but you. _a_ song. note: _you must sing lines to the first strain._ [music] let's be merry blith and jolly, stupid dulness is a folly; 'tis the spring that doth invite us, hark, the chirping birds delight us: let us dance and raise our voices, every creature now rejoyces; airy blasts and springing flowers, verdant coverings, pleasant showers: each plays his part to compleat this our joy, and can we be so dull as to deny. here's no foolish surly lover, that his passions will discover; no conceited fopish creature, that is proud of cloaths or feature: all things here serene and free are, they're not wise, are not as we are; who acknowledge heavens blessings, in our innocent caressings: then let us sing, let us dance, let us play, 'tis the time is allow'd, 'tis the month of _may_. _a new_ song, _the words by mr._ j.c. _set to musick by dr._ prettle. [music] no _phillis_, tho' you've all the charms, ambitious woman can desire; all beauty, wit, and youth that warms, or sets our foolish hearts on fire: yet you may practice all your arts, in vain to make a slave of me; you ne'er shall re-engage my heart, revolted from your tyranny: _you ne'er shall re-engage my heart,_ _revolted from your tyranny._ when first i saw those dang'rous eyes, they did my liberty betray; but when i knew your cruelties, i snatch'd my simple heart away: now i defy your smiles to win, my resolute heart, no pow'r th'ave got; tho' once i suck'd their poyson in, your rigour prov'd an antidote. _the epilogue to the_ island princes, _set by mr._ clark, _sung by mrs._ lindsey, _and the boy._ [music] now to you ye dry wooers, old beaus, and no doers, so doughty, so gouty, so useless and toothless, your blindless, cold kindness, has nothing of man; still doating, or gloating, still stumbling, or fumbling, still hawking, still baulking, you flash in the pan: unfit like old brooms, for sweeping our rooms, you're sunk and you're shrunk, then repent and look to't; in vain you're so upish, in vain you're so upish. you're down ev'ry foot. _a_ scotch song, _set by mr._ r. brown. [music] _jockey_ loves his _moggy_ dearly, he gang'd with her to _perth_ fair; there we sung and pip'd together, and when done, then down i'd lay her: i so pull'd her, and so lull'd her, both o'erwhelm'd with muckle joy; _mog._ kiss'd _jockey_, _jockey_ _moggy_, from long night to break of day. i told _mog._ 'twas muckle pleasing, _moggey_ cry'd she'd do again such; i reply'd i'd glad gang with thee, but 'twould wast my muckle coyn much: she lamented, i relented, both wish'd bodies might increase; then we'd gang next year together, and my pipe shall never cease. _a_ song, _in the_ lucky younger brother, _or, the_ beau defeated; _set by mr._ john eccles, _and sung by mr._ bowman. [music] _delia_ tir'd _strephon_ with her flame, while languishing, while languishing she view'd him; the well dress'd youth despis'd the dame, but still, still; but still the old fool pursu'd him: some pity on a wretch bestow, that lyes at your devotion; perhaps near fifty years ago, perhaps near fifty years ago, i might have lik'd the motion. if you, proud youth, my flame despise, i'll hang me in my garters; why then make hast to win the prize, among loves foolish martyrs: can you see _delia_ brought so low, and make her no requitals? _delia_ may to the devil go, _delia_ may to the devil, devil go, to the devil, devil, devil, devil, devil, devil go for _strephon_; stop my vitals, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop my vitals. _a_ song, _set by mr._ john weldon. [music] swain thy hopeless passion smother, perjur'd _cælia_ loves another; in his arms i saw her lying, panting, kissing, trembling, dying: there the fair deceiver swore, as once she did to you before. oh! said you, when she deceives me, when that constant creatures leave me; _isis_ waters back shall fly, and leave their _ouzy_ channels dry: turn your waters, leave your shore, for perjur'd _cælia_ loves no more. _a_ song _in the comedy call'd the_ biter, _set by mr._ john eccles, _and sung by mr._ cook. [music] _chloe_ blush'd and frown'd and swore, and push'd me rudely from her; i call'd her faithless, jilting whore, to talk to me of honour: but when i rose and wou'd be gone, she cry'd nay, whither go ye? young _damon_ saw, now we're alone, do, do, do what you will, do what you will with _chloe_: do what you will, what you will, what you will with _chloe_, do what you will, what you will, what you will with _chloe_. _a_ song _in_ rinaldo _and_ armida: _set by mr._ john eccles. _sung by mr._ gouge. [music] the jolly, jolly breeze, that comes whistling through the trees; from all the blissful regions brings, perfumes upon its spicy wings: with its wanton motion curling, curling, curling, curling the crystal rills, which down, down, down, down the hills, run, run, run, run, run o'er golden gravel purling. _a_ song _on the_ punch bowl. _to the foregoing tune._ the jolly, jolly bowl, that does quench my thirsty soul; when all the mingling juice is thrown, perfum'd with fragrant goar stone: with it's wanton toast too, curling, curling, curling, curling, curling the nut-brown riles, which down, down, down, down by the gills, run through ruby swallows purling. _the_ prologue _in the_ island-princess, _set and sung by mr._ leveridge. [music] you've been with dull prologues here banter'd so long, they signify nothing, or less than a song; to sing you a ballad this tune we thought fit, for sound has oft nickt you, when sence could not hit: then ladies be kind, and gentlemen mind, wit capers, play sharpers, loud bullies, tame cullies, sow grumblers, wench fumblers give ear ev'ry man: mobb'd sinners in pinners, kept foppers, bench-hoppers, high-flyers, pit-plyers, be still if you can: you're all in damnation, you're all in damnation for leading the van. ye side-box gallants, whom the vulgar call beaus, admirers of self, and nice judges of cloaths; who now the war's over cross boldly the main, yet ne'er were at seiges, unless at campaign: spare all on the stage, love in every age, young tattles, wild rattles, fan-tearers, mask-fleerers, old coasters, love boasters, who set up for truth: young graces, black faces, some faded, some jaded, old mothers, and others, who've yet a colt's tooth: see us act that in winter, you'd all act in youth. you gallery haunters, who love to lye snug, and maunch apples or cakes, while some neighbour you hugg; ye lofties, genteels, who above us all sit, and look down with contempt, on the mob in the pit, here's what you like best, jigg, song and the rest, free laughers, close graffers, dry jokers, old soakers, kind cousins, by dozens, your customs don't break: sly spouses with blouses, grave horners, in corners, kind no-wits, save poets, clap 'till your hands ake, and tho' the wits damn us, we'll say the whims take. _a_ song _set by mr._ john barrett, _and sung by mrs._ lindsey. [music] _cælia_ hence with affectation, hence with all this careless air; hypocrisy is out of fashion, with the witty and the fair: nature all thy arts discloses, while the pleasures she supplies; paint thy glowing cheeks with roses, and inflame thy sparkling eyes. foolish _cælia_ not to know, love thy int'rest and thy duty; thou to love alone dost owe, all thy joy, and all thy beauty: mark the tuneful feather'd kind, at the coming of the spring; all in happy pairs are joyn'd, and because they love they sing. _a_ song, _set by mr._ clark. [music] how often have i curs'd that sable deceit, for making me wish and admire; and rifle poor _ovid_ to learn to intreat, when reason might check my desire: for sagely of late it has been disclos'd, there's nothing, nothing conceal'd uncommon; no miracles under a mask repos'd, when knowing _cynthia's_ a woman. tho' beauty's great charms our sences delude, 'tis the centre attracts our needle; and love's a jest when thought to intrude, the design of it to unriddle: a virgin may show strange coyness in love, and tell you chimera's of honour; but give her her wish, the man she approves, no labour he'll have to win her. finis. generously made available by the library of congress.) music transcribed by linda cantoni and the pgdp music team. the liberty minstrel. [illustration] "when the striving of surges is mad on the main, like the charge of a column of plumes on the plain, when the thunder is up from his cloud cradled sleep and the tempest is treading the paths of the deep-- there is beauty. but where is the beauty to see, like the sun-brilliant brow of a nation when free?" by geo. w. clark. new-york: leavitt & alden, cornhill, boston: saxton & miles, broadway, n.y.: myron finch, nassau st., n.y.: jackson & chaplin, dean st., albany, n.y.: jackson & chaplin, corner genessee and main st., utica, n.y. . entered according to act of congress, in the year , by george w. clark, in the clerk's office of the district court of the southern district of new york. s.w. benedict & co. music stereotypers and printers, _spruce st._ n.y. preface. all creation is musical--all nature speaks the language of song. 'there's music in the sighing of a reed, there's music in the gushing of a rill; there's music in _all things_, if man had ears; the _earth_ is but an _echo_ of the spheres.' and who is not moved by music? "who ever despises music," says martin luther, "i am displeased with him." 'there is a charm--a power that sways the breast, bids every passion revel, or be still; inspires with rage, or all our cares dissolves; can soothe _destruction_, and _almost soothes despair_.' that music is capable of accomplishing vast good, and that it is a source of the most elevated and refined enjoyment when rightly cultivated and practiced, no one who understands its power or has observed its effects, will for a moment deny. 'thou, o music! canst assuage the pain and heal the wound that hath defied the skill of sager comforters; thou dost restrain each wild emotion, thou dost the rage of fiercest passions chill, or lightest up the flames of holy fire, as through the soul thy strains harmonious thrill. who does not desire to see the day when music in this country, _cultivated and practised by_ all--music of a chaste, refined and elevated style, shall go forth with its angel voice, like a spirit of love upon the wind, exerting upon all classes of society a rich and healthful moral influence. when its wonderful power shall be made to subserve every righteous cause--to aid every humane effort for the promotion of man's social, civil and religious well-being. it has been observed by travellers, that after a short residence in almost any of the cities of the eastern world, one would fancy "every second person a musician." during the night, the streets of these cities, particularly rome, the capitol of italy, are filled with all sorts of minstrelsy, and the ear is agreeably greeted with a perpetual confluence of sweet sounds. a scotch traveller, in passing through one of the most delightful villas of rome, overheard a stonemason chanting something in a strain of peculiar melancholy; and on inquiry, ascertained it to be the "_lament of tasso_." he soon learned that this celebrated piece was familiar to all the common people. torquato tasso was an italian poet of great merit, who was for many years deprived of liberty, and subjected to severe trials and misfortunes by the jealousy and cruelty of his patron, the duke of ferrara. that master-piece of music, so justly admired and so much sung by the high and low throughout all italy, had its origin in the wrongs of tasso. an ardent love of humanity--a deep consciousness of the injustice of slavery--a heart full of sympathy for the oppressed, and a due appreciation of the blessings of freedom, has given birth to the poetry comprising this volume. i have long desired to see these sentiments of love, of sympathy, of justice and humanity, so beautifully expressed in poetic measure, embalmed in sweet music; so that _all the people_--the rich, the poor, the young, and the old, who have hearts to feel, and tongues to move, may sing of the wrongs of slavery, and the blessings of liberty, until every human being shall recognise in his fellow an _equal_;--"a man and a brother." until by familiarity with these sentiments, and their influence upon their _hearts_, _the people_, whose _duty it is_, shall "undo the heavy burdens and let the oppressed go free." i announced, sometime since, my intention of publishing such a work. many have been impatiently waiting its appearance. i should have been glad to have issued it and scattered it like leaves of the forest over the land, long ago, but circumstances which i could not control, have prevented. i purpose to enlarge the work from time to time, as circumstances may require. let associations of singers, having the love of liberty in their hearts, be immediately formed in every community. let them study thoroughly, and make themselves perfectly familiar with both the poetry and the music, and enter into the _sentiment_ of the piece they perform, that they may _impress it_ upon their hearers. above all things, let the enunciation of every word be _clear_ and _distinct_. most of the singing of the present day, is entirely too artificial, stiff and mechanical. it should be easy and natural; flowing directly from the soul of the performer, without affectation or display; and then singing will answer its true end, and not only please the _ear_, but affect and improve the _heart_. to the true friends of universal freedom, the liberty minstrel is respectfully dedicated. g.w. clark. new york, oct. . the liberty minstrel. gone, sold and gone. words by whittier. music by g.w. clark. [music] gone, gone--sold and gone, to the rice-swamp dank and lone, where the slave-whip ceaseless swings, where the noisome insect stings, where the fever demon strews poison with the falling dews, where the sickly sunbeams glare through the hot and misty air, gone, gone--sold and gone, to the rice-swamp dank and lone, from virginia's hills and waters, woe is me my stolen daughters! gone, gone--sold and gone, to the rice-swamp dank and lone, there no mother's eye is near them, there no mother's ear can hear them; never when the torturing lash seams their back with many a gash, shall a mother's kindness bless them, or a mother's arms caress them. gone, gone--sold and gone, to the rice-swamp dank and lone, from virginia's hills and waters, woe is me my stolen daughters! gone, gone--sold and gone, to the rice-swamp dank and lone, oh, when weary, sad, and slow, from the fields at night they go, faint with toil, and rack'd with pain, to their cheerless homes again-- there no brother's voice shall greet them-- there no father's welcome meet them.--_gone, &c._ gone, gone--sold and gone, to the rice-swamp dank and lone, from the tree whose shadow lay on their childhood's place of play-- from the cool spring where they drank-- rock, and hill, and rivulet bank-- from the solemn house of prayer, and the holy counsels there.--_gone, &c._ gone, gone--sold and gone, to the rice-swamp dank and lone, toiling through the weary day, and at night the spoiler's prey; oh, that they had earlier died, sleeping calmly, side by side, where the tyrant's power is o'er, and the fetter galls no more!--_gone, &c._ gone, gone--sold and gone, to the rice-swamp dank and lone, by the holy love he beareth-- by the bruised reed he spareth-- oh, may he, to whom alone all their cruel wrongs are known, still their hope and refuge prove, with a more than mother's love.--_gone, &c._ what means that sad and dismal look? words by geo. russell. arranged from "near the lake," by g.w.c. [music] what means that sad and dismal look, and why those falling tears? no voice is heard, no word is spoke, yet nought but grief appears. ah! mother, hast thou ever known the pain of parting ties? was ever infant from thee torn and sold before thine eyes? say, would not grief _thy_ bosom swell? _thy_ tears like rivers flow? should some rude ruffian seize and sell the child thou lovest so? there's feeling in a _mother's_ breast, though _colored_ be her skin! and though at slavery's foul behest, she must not weep for kin. i had a lovely, smiling child, it sat upon my knee; and oft a tedious hour beguiled, with merry heart of glee. that child was from my bosom torn, and sold before my eyes; with outstretched arms, and looks forlorn, it uttered piteous cries. mother! dear mother!--take, o take thy helpless little one! ah! then i thought my heart would break; my child--my child was gone. long, long ago, my child they stole, but yet my grief remains; these tears flow freely--and my soul in bitterness complains. then ask not why "my dismal look," nor why my "falling tears," such wrongs, what human heart can brook? no hope for me appears. the slave boy's wish. by eliza lee follen. i wish i was that little bird, up in the bright blue sky; that sings and flies just where he will, and no one asks him why. i wish i was that little brook, that runs so swift along; through pretty flowers and shining stones, singing a merry song. i wish i was that butterfly, without a thought or care; sporting my pretty, brilliant wings, like a flower in the air. i wish i was that wild, wild deer, i saw the other day; who swifter than an arrow flew, through the forest far away. i wish i was that little cloud, by the gentle south wind driven; floating along, so free and bright, far, far up into heaven. i'd rather be a cunning fox, and hide me in a cave; i'd rather be a savage wolf, than what i am--a slave. my mother calls me her good boy, my father calls me brave; what wicked action have i done, that i should be a slave. i saw my little sister sold, so will they do to me; my heavenly father, let me die, for then i shall be free. the bereaved father. words by miss chandler. music by g.w.c. [music] ye've gone from me, my gentle ones! with all your shouts of mirth; a silence is within my walls, a darkness round my hearth, a darkness round my hearth. woe to the hearts that heard, unmoved, the mother's anguish'd shriek! and mock'd, with taunting scorn, the tears that bathed a father's cheek. woe to the hands that tore you hence, my innocent and good! not e'en the tigress of the wild, thus tears her fellow's brood. i list to hear your soft sweet tones, upon the morning air; i gaze amidst the twilight's gloom, as if to find you there. but you no more come bounding forth to meet me in your glee; and when the evening shadows fall, ye are not at my knee. your forms are aye before my eyes, your voices on my ear, and all things wear a thought of you, but you no more are here. you were the glory of my life, my blessing and my pride! i half forgot the name of slave, when you were by my side! woe for your lot, ye doom'd ones! woe a seal is on your fate! and shame, and toil, and wretchedness, on all your steps await! slave girl mourning her father. parodied from mrs. sigourney by g.w.c. [music] they say i was but four years old when father was sold away; yet i have never seen his face since that sad parting day. he went where brighter flowrets grow beneath the southern skies; oh who will show me on the map where that far country lies? i begged him, "father, do not go! for, since my mother died, i love no one so well as you;" and, clinging to his side, the tears came gushing down my cheeks until my eyes were dim; some were in sorrow for the dead, and _some_ in love for him. he knelt and prayed of god above, "my little daughter spare, and let us both here meet again, o keep her in thy care." he does not come!--i watch for him at evening twilight grey, till every shadow wears his shape, along the grassy way. i muse and listen all alone, when stormy winds are high, and think i hear his tender tone, and call, but no reply; and so i've done these four long years, without a friend or home, yet every dream of hope is vain,-- why don't my father come? father--dear father, are you sick, upon a stranger shore?-- the people say it must be so-- o send to me once more, and let your little daughter come, to soothe your restless bed, and hold the cordial to your lips, and press your aching head. alas!--i fear me he is dead!-- who will my trouble share? or tell me where his form is laid, and let me travel there? by mother's tomb i love to sit, where the green branches wave; good people! help a friendless child to find her father's grave. the slave and her babe. words by charlotte elizabeth. "can a woman forget her sucking child?" _air--"slave girl mourning her father."_ o, massa, let me stay, to catch my baby's sobbing breath; his little glassy eye to watch, and smooth his limbs in death, and cover him with grass and leaf, beneath the plantain tree! it is not sullenness, but grief-- o, massa, pity me! god gave me babe--a precious boon, to cheer my lonely heart, but massa called to work too soon, and i must needs depart. the morn was chill--i spoke no word, but feared my babe might die, and heard all day, or thought i heard, my little baby cry. at noon--o, how i ran! and took my baby to my breast! i lingered--and the long lash broke my sleeping infant's rest. i worked till night--till darkest night, in torture and disgrace; went home, and watched till morning light, to see my baby's face. the fulness from its cheek was gone, the sparkle from its eye; now hot, like fire, now cold, like stone, i _knew_ my babe must die. i worked upon plantation ground, though faint with woe and dread, then ran, or flew, and here i found-- see massa, almost dead. then give me but one little hour-- o! do not lash me so! one little hour--one little hour-- and gratefully i'll go. ah me! the whip has cut my boy, i heard his feeble scream; no more--farewell my only joy, my life's first gladsome dream! i lay thee on the lonely sod, the heaven is bright above; these christians boast they have a god, and say his name is love: o gentle, loving god, look down! my dying baby see; the mercy that from earth is flown, perhaps may dwell with thee! the negro's appeal. words by cowper. tune--"isle of beauty." [music] forced from home and all its pleasures, afric's coast i left forlorn; to increase a stranger's treasures, o'er the raging billows borne. christian people bought and sold me, paid my price in paltry gold: but though slave they have enrolled me _minds_ are never to be sold. is there, as ye sometimes tell me, is there one who reigns on high? has he bid you buy and sell me, speaking from his throne--the sky? ask him, if your knotted scourges, matches, blood-extorting screws, are the means that duty urges agents of his will to use. hark! he answers--wild tornadoes, strewing yonder sea with wrecks, wasting towns, plantations, meadows, are the voice with which he speaks. he, foreseeing what vexations afric's sons should undergo, fixed their tyrant's habitations, where his whirlwinds answer--no! by our blood in afric' wasted, ere our necks received the chain; by the miseries that we tasted, crossing in your barks the main: by our sufferings, since ye brought us to the man-degrading mart, all sustained by patience, taught us only by a broken heart-- deem our nation brutes no longer, till some reason ye shall find, worthier of regard and stronger than the _color_ of our kind. slaves of gold! whose sordid dealings tarnish all your boasted powers; prove that you have human feelings, ere you proudly question ours. negro boy sold for a watch.[ ] [footnote : an african prince having arrived in england, and having been asked what he had given for his watch, answered, "what i will never give again--i gave a fine boy for it."] words by cowper. arranged by g.w.c. from an old theme. [music] when avarice enslaves the mind, and selfish views alone bear sway man turns a savage to his kind, and blood and rapine mark his way. alas! for this poor simple toy, i sold the hapless negro boy. his father's hope, his mother's pride, though black, yet comely to the view i tore him helpless from their side, and gave him to a ruffian crew-- to fiends that afric's coast annoy, i sold the hapless negro boy. from country, friends, and parents torn, his tender limbs in chains confined, i saw him o'er the billows borne, and marked his agony of mind; but still to gain this simple toy, i gave the weeping negro boy. in isles that deck the western wave i doomed the hapless youth to dwell, a poor, forlorn, insulted slave! a beast that christians buy and sell! and in their cruel tasks employ the much-enduring negro boy. his wretched parents long shall mourn, shall long explore the distant main in hope to see the youth return; but all their hopes and sighs are vain: they never shall the sight enjoy, of their lamented negro boy. beneath a tyrant's harsh command, he wears away his youthful prime; far distant from his native land, a stranger in a foreign clime. no pleasing thoughts his mind employ, a poor, dejected negro boy. but he who walks upon the wind, whose voice in thunder's heard on high, who doth the raging tempest bind, and hurl the lightning through the sky, in his own time will sure destroy the oppressor of the negro boy. i am monarch of nought i survey. a parody. air "old dr. fleury." i am monarch of nought i survey, my wrongs there are none to dispute; my master conveys me away, his whims or caprices to suit. o slavery, where are the charms that "patriarchs" have seen in thy face; i dwell in the midst of alarms, and serve in a horrible place. i am out of humanity's reach, and must finish my life with a groan; never hear the sweet music of speech that tells me my body's my own. society, friendship, and love, divinely bestowed upon some, are blessings i never can prove, if slavery's my portion to come. religion! what treasures untold, reside in that heavenly word! more precious than silver or gold, or all that this earth can afford. but i am excluded the light that leads to this heavenly grace; the bible is clos'd to my sight, its beauties i never can trace. ye winds, that have made me your sport, convey to this sorrowful land, some cordial endearing report, of freedom from tyranny's hand. my friends, do they not often send, a wish or a thought after me? o, tell me i yet have a friend, a friend i am anxious to see. how fleet is a glance of the mind! compared with the speed of its flight; the tempest itself lags behind, and the swift-winged arrows of light. when i think of victoria's domain, in a moment i seem to be there, but the fear of being taken again, soon hurries me back to despair. the wood-fowl has gone to her nest, the beast has lain down in his lair; to me, there's no season of rest, though i to my quarter repair. if mercy, o lord, is in store, for those who in slavery pine; grant me when life's troubles are o'er, a place in thy kingdom divine. the afric's dream. words by miss chandler. "emigrant's lament," arranged by g.w.c. [music] why did ye wake me from my sleep? it was a dream of bliss, and ye have torn me from that land, to pine again in this; methought, beneath yon whispering tree, that i was laid to rest, the turf, with all its with'ring flowers, upon my cold heart pressed. my chains, these hateful chains, were gone--oh, would that i might die, so from my swelling pulse i could forever cast them by! and on, away, o'er land and sea, my joyful spirit passed, till, 'neath my own banana tree, i lighted down at last. my cabin door, with all its flowers, was still profusely gay, as when i lightly sported there, in childhood's careless day! but trees that were as sapling twigs, with broad and shadowing bough, around the well-known threshhold spread a freshening coolness now. the birds whose notes i used to hear, were shouting on the earth, as if to greet me back again with their wild strains of mirth; my own bright stream was at my feet, and how i laughed to lave my burning lip, and cheek, and brow, in that delicious wave! my boy, my first-born babe, had died amid his early hours, and there we laid him to his sleep among the clustering flowers; yet lo! without my cottage-door he sported in his glee, with her whose grave is far from his, beneath yon linden tree. i sprang to snatch them to my soul; when breathing out my name, to grasp my hand, and press my lip, a crowd of loved ones came! wife, parents, children, kinsmen, friends! the dear and lost ones all, with blessed words of welcome came, to greet me from my thrall. forms long unseen were by my side; and thrilling on my ear, came cadences from gentle tones, unheard for many a year; and on my cheeks fond lips were pressed, with true affection's kiss-- and so ye waked me from my sleep--but 'twas a dream of bliss! song of the coffle gang.[ ] [footnote : this song is said to be sung by slaves, as they are chained in gangs, when parting from friends for the far off south--children taken from parents, husbands from wives, and brothers from sisters.] words by the slaves. music by g.w.c. [music] see these poor souls from africa, transported to america; we are stolen, and sold to georgia, will you go along with me? we are stolen and sold to georgia, go sound the jubilee. see wives and husbands sold apart, the children's screams!--it breaks my heart; there's a better day a coming, will you go along with me? there's a better day a coming, go sound the jubilee. o gracious lord! when shall it be, that we poor souls shall all be free? lord, break them slavery powers--will you go along with me? lord, break them slavery powers, go sound the jubilee. dear lord! dear lord! when slavery'll cease, then we poor souls can have our peace; there's a better day a coming, will you go along with me? there's a better day a coming, go sound the jubilee. hark! i hear a sound of anguish. air, "calvary." [music] hark! i hear a sound of anguish in my own, my native land; brethren, doomed in chains to languish, lift to heaven the suppliant hand, and despairing, and despairing, death the end of woe demand. let us raise our supplication for the wretched suffering slave, all whose life is desolation, all whose hope is in the grave; god of mercy! from thy throne, o hear and save. those in bonds we would remember as if we with them were bound; for each crushed, each suffering member let our sympathies abound, till our labors spread the smiles of freedom round. even now the word is spoken; "slavery's cruel power must cease, from the bound the chain be broken, captives hail the kind release," while in splendor comes to reign the prince of peace. brothers be brave for the pining slave. air--"sparkling and bright." [music] solo. heavy and cold in his dungeon hold, is the yoke of the oppressor; dark o'er the soul is the fell control of the stern and dread transgressor. chorus. oh then come all to bring the thrall up from his deep despairing, and out of the jaw of the bandit's law, retake the prey he's tearing: o then come all to bring the thrall up from his deep despairing, and out of the jaw of the bandit's law, retake the prey he's tearing. brothers be brave for the pining slave, from his wife and children riven; from every vale their bitter wail goes sounding up to heaven. then for the life of that poor wife, and for those children pining; o ne'er give o'er till the chains no more around their limbs are twining. gloomy and damp is the low rice swamp, where their meagre bands are wasting; all worn and weak, in vain they seek for rest, to the cool shade hasting; for drivers fell, like fiends from hell, cease not their savage shouting; and the scourge's crack, from quivering back, sends up the red blood spouting. into the grave looks only the slave, for rest to his limbs aweary; his spirit's light comes from that night, to us so dark and dreary. that soul shall nurse its heavy curse against a day of terror, when the lightning gleam of his wrath shall stream like fire, on the hosts of error. heavy and stern are the bolts which burn in the right hand of jehovah; to smite the strong red arm of wrong, and dash his temples over; then on amain to rend the chain, ere bursts the vallied thunder; right onward speed till the slave is freed-- his manacles torn asunder. e.d.h. the quadroon maiden. words by longfellow. theme from the indian maid. [music] the slaver in the broad lagoon, lay moored with idle sail; he waited for the rising moon, and for the evening gale. the planter under his roof of thatch, smoked thoughtfully and slow; the slaver's thumb was on the latch, he seemed in haste to go. he said, "my ship at anchor rides in yonder broad lagoon; i only wait the evening tides, and the rising of the moon." before them, with her face upraised, in timid attitude, like one half curious, half amazed, a quadroon maiden stood. and on her lips there played a smile as holy, meek, and faint, as lights, in some cathedral aisle, the features of a saint. "the soil is barren, the farm is old," the thoughtful planter said, then looked upon the slaver's gold, and then upon the maid. his heart within him was at strife, with such accursed gains; for he knew whose passions gave her life, whose blood ran in her veins. but the voice of nature was too weak: he took the glittering gold! then pale as death grew the maiden's cheek, her hands as icy cold. the slaver led her from the door, he led her by the hand, to be his slave and paramour in a far and distant land. domestic bliss. by rev. james gregg. domestic bliss; thou fairest flower that erst in eden grew, dear relic of the happy bower, our first grand parents knew! we hail thee in the rugged soil of this waste wilderness, to cheer our way and cheat our toil, with gleams of happiness. in thy mild light we travel on, and smile at toil and pain; and think no more of eden gone, for eden won again. such, emily, the bliss, the joy by heaven bestowed on you; a husband kind, a lovely boy, a father fond and true. religion adds her cheering beams, and sanctifies these ties; and sheds o'er all the brighter gleams, she borrows from the skies. but ah! reflect; are _all_ thus blest? hath home such charms for _all_? can such delights as these invest foul slavery's wretched thrall? can those be happy in these ties who wear her galling chain? or taste the blessed charities that in the household reign? can those be blest, whose hope, whose life, hang on a tyrant's nod; to whom nor husband, child, nor wife are known--yea, scarcely god? whose ties may all be rudely riven, at avarice' fell behest; whose only hope of _home_ is heaven, the grave their only rest. oh! think of those, the poor, th' oppressed, in your full hour of bliss; nor e'er from prayer and effort rest, while earth bears woe like this. o pity the slave mother. words from the liberator. air, araby's daughter. [music] i pity the slave mother, careworn and weary, who sighs as she presses her babe to her breast; i lament her sad fate, all so hopeless and dreary, i lament for her woes, and her wrongs unredressed. o who can imagine her heart's deep emotion, as she thinks of her children about to be sold; you may picture the bounds of the rock-girdled ocean, but the grief of that mother can never be known. the mildew of slavery has blighted each blossom, that ever has bloomed in her pathway below; it has froze every fountain that gushed in her bosom, and chilled her heart's verdure with pitiless woe: her parents, her kindred, all crushed by oppression; her husband still doomed in its desert to stay; no arm to protect from the tyrant's aggression-- she must weep as she treads on her desolate way. o, slave-mother, hope! see--the nation is shaking! the arm of the lord is awake to thy wrong! the slave-holder's heart now with terror is quaking salvation and mercy to heaven belong! rejoice, o rejoice! for the child thou art rearing, may one day lift up its unmanacled form, while hope, to thy heart, like the rain-bow so cheering, is born, like the rain-bow, 'mid tempest and storm. how long! o! how long! how long will the friend of the slave plead in vain? how long e'er the christian will loosen the chain? if he, by our efforts, more hardened should be, o father, forgive him! we trust but in thee. that 'we're all free and equal,' how senseless the cry, while millions in bondage are groaning so nigh! o where is our freedom? equality where? to this none can answer, but echo cries, where? o'er this stain on our country we'd fain draw a veil, but history's page will proclaim the sad tale, that christians, unblushing, could shout 'we are free,' whilst they the oppressors of millions could be. they can feel for themselves, for the pole they can feel, towards afric's children their hearts are like steel; they are deaf to their call, to their wrongs they are blind; in error they slumber nor seek truth to find. though scorn and oppression on our pathway attend, despised and reviled, we the slave will befriend; our father, thy blessing! we look but to thee, nor cease from our labors till all shall be free. should mobs in their fury with missiles assail, the cause it is righteous, the truth will prevail; then heed not their clamors, though loud they proclaim that freedom shall slumber, and slavery reign. the fugitive slave to the christian. words by elizur wright, jr. music arranged from cracovienne. [music] the fetters galled my weary soul,-- a soul that seemed but thrown away; i spurned the tyrant's base control, resolved at last the man to play:-- chorus. the hounds are baying on my track; o christian! will you send me back? the hounds are baying on my track; o christian! will you send me back? i felt the stripes, the lash i saw, red, dripping with a father's gore; and, worst of all their lawless law, the insults that my mother bore! the hounds are baying on my track, o christian! will you send me back? where human law o'errules divine, beneath the sheriff's hammer fell my wife and babes,--i call them mine,-- and where they suffer, who can tell? the hounds are baying on my track, o christian! will you send me back? i seek a home where man is man, if such there be upon this earth, to draw my kindred, if i can, around its free, though humble hearth. the hounds are baying on my track, o christian! will you send me back! the strength of tyranny. the tyrant's chains are only strong while slaves submit to wear them; and, who could bind them on the strong, determined not to wear them? then clank your chains, e'en though the links were light as fashion's feather: the heart which rightly feels and thinks would cast them altogether. the lords of earth are only great while others clothe and feed them! but what were all their pride and state should labor cease to heed them? the swain is higher than a king: before the laws of nature, the monarch were a useless thing, the swain a useless creature. we toil, we spin, we delve the mine, sustaining each his neighbor; and who can hold a right divine to rob us of our labor? we rush to battle--bear our lot in every ill and danger-- and who shall make the peaceful cot to homely joy a stranger? perish all tyrants far and near, beneath the chains that bind us; and perish too that servile fear which makes the slaves they find us: one grand, one universal claim-- one peal of moral thunder-- one glorious burst in freedom's name, and rend our bonds asunder! the blind slave boy. words by mrs. dr. bailey. music arranged from sweet afton. [music] come back to me mother! why linger away from thy poor little blind boy, the long weary day! i mark every footstep, i list to each tone, and wonder my mother should leave me alone! there are voices of sorrow, and voices of glee, but there's no one to joy or to sorrow with me; for each hath of pleasure and trouble his share, and none for the poor little blind boy will care. my mother, come back to me! close to thy breast once more let thy poor little blind one be pressed; once more let me feel thy warm breath on my cheek, and hear thee in accents of tenderness speak! o mother! i've no one to love me--no heart can bear like thine own in my sorrows a part, no hand is so gentle, no voice is so kind, oh! none like a mother can cherish the blind! poor blind one! no mother thy wailing can hear, no mother can hasten to banish thy fear; for the slave-owner drives her, o'er mountain and wild, and for one paltry dollar hath sold thee, poor child! ah! who can in language of mortals reveal the anguish that none but a mother can feel, when man in his vile lust of mammon hath trod on her child, who is stricken and smitten of god! blind, helpless, forsaken, with strangers alone, she hears in her anguish his piteous moan; as he eagerly listens--but listens in vain, to catch the loved tones of his mother again! the curse of the broken in spirit shall fall on the wretch who hath mingled this wormwood and gall, and his gain like a mildew shall blight and destroy, who hath torn from his mother the little blind boy! slave's wrongs. words by miss chandler. arranged from "rose of allandale." [music] with aching brow and wearied limb, the slave his toil pursued; and oft i saw the cruel scourge deep in his blood imbrued; he tilled oppression's soil where men for liberty had bled, and the eagle wing of freedom waved in mockery, o'er his head. the earth was filled with the triumph shout of men who had burst their chains; but his, the heaviest of them all, still lay on his burning veins; in his master's hall there was luxury, and wealth, and mental light; but the very book of the christian law, was hidden from his sight. in his master's halls there was wine and mirth, and songs for the newly free; but his own low cabin was desolate of all but misery. he felt it all--and to bitterness his heart within him turned; while the panting wish for liberty, like a fire in his bosom burned. the haunting thought of his wrongs grew changed to a darker and fiercer hue, till the horrible shape it sometimes wore at last familiar grew; there was darkness all within his heart, and madness in his soul; and the demon spark, in his bosom nursed, blazed up beyond control. then came a scene! oh! such a scene! i would i might forget the ringing sound of the midnight scream, and the hearth-stone redly wet! the mother slain while she shrieked in vain for her infant's threatened life; and the flying form of the frighted child, struck down by the bloody knife. there's many a heart that yet will start from its troubled sleep, at night, as the horrid form of the vengeful slave comes in dreams before the sight. the slave was crushed, and his fetters' link drawn tighter than before; and the bloody earth again was drenched with the streams of his flowing gore. ah! know they not, that the tightest band must burst with the wildest power?-- that the more the slave is oppressed and wronged, will be fiercer his rising hour? they may thrust him back with the arm of might, they may drench the earth with his blood-- but the best and purest of their own, will blend with the sanguine flood. i could tell thee more--but my strength is gone, and my breath is wasting fast; long ere the darkness to-night has fled, will my life from the earth have passed: but this, the sum of all i have learned, ere i go i will tell to thee;-- if tyrants would hope for tranquil hearts, they must let the oppressed go free. my child is gone. music by g.w.c. [music] hark! from the winds a voice of woe, the wild atlantic in its flow, bears on its breast the murmur low, my child is gone! like savage tigers o'er their prey, they tore him from my heart away; and now i cry, by night by day-- my child is gone! how many a free-born babe is press'd with fondness to its mother's breast, and rocked upon her arms to rest, while mine is gone! no longer now, at eve i see, beneath the sheltering plantain tree, my baby cradled on my knee, for he is gone! and when i seek my cot at night, there's not a thing that meets my sight, but tells me that my soul's delight, my child, is gone! i sink to sleep, and then i seem to hear again his parting scream i start and wake--'tis but a dream-- my child _is_ gone! gone--till my toils and griefs are o'er, and i shall reach that happy shore, where negro mothers cry no more-- my child is gone! comfort in affliction. words by william leggett. music by g.w.c. [music] if yon bright stars which gem the night, be each a blissful dwelling sphere, where kindred spirits reunite whom death has torn asunder here, how sweet it were at once to die, and leave this blighted orb afar! mix soul with soul to cleave the sky, and soar away from star to star! but oh! how dark, how drear, how lone, would seem the brightest world of bliss, if, wandering through each radiant one, we failed to find the loved of this! if there no more the ties should twine, which death's cold hand alone can sever, ah! then those stars in mockery shine, more hateful as they shine forever! it cannot be--each hope and fear, that lights the eye or clouds the brow, proclaims there is a happier sphere than this bleak world that holds us now! there is a voice which sorrow hears, when heaviest weighs life's galling chain, 'tis heaven that whispers, "dry thy tears, the pure in heart shall meet again." the poor little slave. from "the charter oak." o pity the poor little slave, who labors hard through all the day-- and has no one, when day is done, to teach his youthful heart to pray. no words of love--no fond embrace-- no smiles from parents kind and dear; no tears are shed around his bed, when fevers rage, and death is near. none feel for him when heavy chains are fastened to his tender limb; no pitying eyes, no sympathies, no prayers are raised to heaven for him. yes i will pity the poor slave, and pray that he may soon be free; that he at last, when days are past, in heaven may have his liberty. the bereaved mother. words by jesse hutchinson. air, "kathleen o'moore." [music] oh deep was the anguish of the slave mother's heart, when called from her darling for ever to part; so grieved that lone mother, that heart broken mother, in sorrow and woe. the lash of the master her deep sorrows mock, while the child of her bosom is sold on the block; yet loud shrieked that mother, poor heart broken mother, in sorrow and woe. the babe in return, for its fond mother cries, while the sound of their wailings together arise; they shriek for each other, the child and the mother, in sorrow and woe. the harsh auctioneer to sympathy cold, tears the babe from its mother and sells it for gold; while the infant and mother, loud shriek for each other, in sorrow and woe. at last came the parting of mother and child, her brain reeled with madness, that mother was wild; then the lash could not smother the shrieks of that mother, of sorrow and woe. the child was borne off to a far distant clime, while the mother was left in anguish to pine; but reason departed, and she sank broken hearted, in sorrow and woe. that poor mourning mother, of reason bereft, soon ended her sorrows and sank cold in death: thus died that slave mother, poor heart broken mother, in sorrow and woe. oh! list ye kind mothers to the cries of the slave; the parents and children implore you to save; go! rescue the mothers, the sisters and brothers, from sorrow and woe. heard ye that cry. from "wind of the winter night." [music] heard ye that cry! twas the wail of a slave, as he sank in despair, to the rest of the grave; behold him where bleeding and prostrate he lies, unfriended he lived, and unpitied he died. the white man oppressed him--the white man for gold, made him toil amidst tortures that cannot be told; he robbed him, and spoiled him, of all that was dear, and made him the prey of affliction and fear. but his anguish was seen, and his wailings were heard, by the lord god of hosts; whose vengeance deferred, gathers force by delay, and with fury will burst, on his impious oppressor--the tyrant accurst! arouse ye, arouse ye! ye generous and brave, plead the rights of the poor--plead the cause of the slave; nor cease your exertions till broken shall be the fetters that bind him, and the slave shall be free. sleep on my child. by r.j.h. sleep on, my child, in peaceful rest, while lovely visions round thee play; no care or grief has touched thy breast, thy life is yet a cloudless day. far distant is my childhood's home-- no mother's smiles--no father's care! oh! how i'd love again to roam, where once my little playmates were! sleep on, thou hast not felt the chain; but though 'tis yet unmingled joy, i may not see those smiles again, nor clasp thee to my breast, my boy. and must i see thee toil and bleed! thy manly soul in fetters tied; 'twill wring thy mother's heart indeed-- oh! would to god that i had died! that soul god's own bright image bears-- but oh! no tongue thy woes can tell; thy lot is cast in blood and tears, and soon these lips must say--farewell! zaza--the female slave. words by miss ball. music by g.w.c. [music] o my country, my country! how long i for thee, far over the mountain, far over the sea. where the sweet joliba kisses the shore, say, shall i wander by thee never more? where the sweet joliba kisses the shore, say, shall i wander by thee never more? o my country, my country! how long i for thee, far over the mountain, far over the sea. say, o fond zurima, where dost thou stay? say, doth another list to thy sweet lay? say, doth the orange still bloom near our cot? zurima, zurima, am i forgot? o, my country, my country! how long i for thee, far over the mountain, far over the sea. under the baobab oft have i slept, fanned by sweet breezes that over me swept. often in dreams do my weary limbs lay 'neath the same baobab, far, far away, o my country, my country, how long i for thee, far over the mountain, far over the sea. o for the breath of our own waving palm, here, as i languish, my spirit to calm-- o for a draught from our own cooling lake, brought by sweet mother, my spirit to wake. o my country, my country, how long i for thee, far over the mountain, far over the sea. prayer for the slave. tune--hamburgh. [music] oh let the pris'ner's mournful sighs as incense in thy sight appear! their humble wailings pierce the skies, if haply they may feel thee near. the captive exiles make their moans, from sin impatient to be free; call home, call home, thy banished ones! lead captive their captivity! out of the deep regard their cries, the fallen raise, the mourners cheer, oh, son of righteousness, arise, and scatter all their doubts and fear. stand by them in the fiery hour, their feebleness of mind defend; and in their weakness show thy power, and make them patient to the end. relieve the souls whose cross we bear, for whom thy suffering members mourn: answer our faith's effectual prayer; and break the yoke so meekly borne! remembering that god is just. oh righteous god! whose awful frown can crumble nations to the dust, trembling we stand before thy throne, when we reflect that thou art just. dost thou not see the dreadful wrong, which afric's injured race sustains? and wilt thou not arise ere long, to plead their cause, and break their chains? must not thine anger quickly rise against the men whom lust controls, who dare thy righteous laws despise and traffic in the blood of souls? the fugitive. words by l.m.c. air "bonny doon." [music] a noble man of sable brow came to my humble cottage door, with cautious, weary step and slow, and asked if i could feed the poor; he begged if i had ought to give, to help the panting fugitive. i told him he had fled away from his kind master, friends, and home; that he was black--a slave astray, and should return as he had come; that i would to his master give the straying villain fugitive. he fell upon his trembling knee and claimed he was a brother man, that i was bound to set him free, according to the gospel plan; and if i would god's grace receive, that i must help the fugitive. he showed the stripes his master gave, the festering wound--the sightless eye, the common badges of the slave, and said he would be free, or die; and if i nothing had to give, i should not stop the fugitive. he owned his was a sable skin, that which his maker first had given; but mine would be a darker sin, that would exclude my soul from heaven: and if i would god's grace receive, i should relieve the fugitive. i bowed and took the stranger in, and gave him meat, and drink, and rest, i hope that god forgave my sin, and made me with that brother blest; i am resolved, long as i live, to help the panting fugitive. am i not a man and brother? words by a.c.l. air--"bride's farewell." [music] am i not a man and brother? ought i not, then, to be free? sell me not one to another, take not thus my liberty. christ our saviour, christ our saviour, died for me as well as thee. am i not a man and brother? have i not a soul to save? oh, do not my spirit smother, making me a wretched slave: god of mercy, god of mercy, let me fill a freeman's grave! yes, thou art a man and brother, though thou long hast groaned a slave, bound with cruel cords and tether from the cradle to the grave! yet the saviour, yet the saviour, bled and died all souls to save. yes, thou art a man and brother, though we long have told thee nay: and are bound to aid each other, all along our pilgrim way. come and welcome, come and welcome, join with us to praise and pray! am i not a sister? by a.c.l. am i not a sister, say? shall i then be bought and sold in the mart and by the way, for the white man's lust and gold? save me then from his foul snare, leave me not to perish there! am i not a sister say, though i have a sable hue! lo! i have been dragged away, from my friends and kindred true, and have toiled in yonder field, there have long been bruised and peeled! am i not a sister, say? have i an immortal soul? will you, sisters, tell me nay? shall i live in lust's control, to be chattled like a beast, by the christian church and priest? am i not a sister, say? though i have been made a slave? will you not then for me pray, to the god whose power can save, high and low, and bond and free? toil and pray and vote for me! ye heralds of freedom. music by kingsley. [music] ye heralds of freedom, ye noble and brave, who dare to insist on the rights of the slave; go onward, go onward, your cause is of god, and he will soon sever the oppressor's strong rod. the finger of slander may now at you point, that finger will soon lose the strength of its joint; and those who now plead for the rights of the slave, will soon be acknowledged the good and the brave. though thrones and dominions, and kingdoms and powers, may now all oppose you, the victory is yours; the banner of jesus will soon be unfurled, and he will give freedom and peace to the world. go under his standard and fight by his side, o'er mountains and billows you'll then safely ride. his gracious protection will be to you given, and bright crowns of glory he'll give you in heaven. i would not live alway. by pierpont. i would not live alway; i ask not to stay, where i must bear the burden and heat of the day: where my body is cut with the lash or the cord, and a hovel and hunger are all my reward. i would not live alway, where life is a load to the flesh and the spirit:--since there's an abode for the soul disenthralled, let me breathe my last and repose in thine arms, my deliverer, death!-- i would not live alway to toil as a slave: oh no, let me rest, though i rest in my grave; for there, from their troubling, the wicked shall and, free from his master, the slave be at peace. our pilgrim fathers. words by pierpont. music from "minstrel boy," by g.w.c. [music] our pilgrim fathers--where are they? the waves that brought them o'er, still roll in the bay, and throw their spray as they break along the shore; still roll in the bay, as they rolled that day, when the mayflower moored below; when the sea around was black with storms, and white the shore with snow. the mists that wrapped the pilgrim's sleep, still brood upon the tide; and his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep, to stay its waves of pride. but the snow-white sail, that she gave to the gale when the heavens looked dark, is gone; as an angel's wing, through an opening cloud, is seen, and then withdrawn. the pilgrim exile--sainted name! the hill, whose icy brow rejoiced when he came in the morning's flame, in the morning's flame burns now. and the moon's cold light, as it lay that night, on the hill-side and the sea, still lies where he laid his houseless head; but the pilgrim--where is he? the pilgrim fathers are at rest; when summer's throned on high, and the world's warm breast is in verdure dressed, go, stand on the hill where they lie. the earliest ray of the golden day, on that hallowed spot is cast; and the evening sun as he leaves the world, looks kindly on that spot last. the pilgrim _spirit_ has not fled-- it walks in noon's broad light; and it watches the bed of the glorious dead, with the holy stars, by night. it watches the bed of the brave who have bled, and shall guard this ice-bound shore, till the waves of the bay, where the mayflower lay, shall foam and freeze no more. stanzas for the times. words by j.g. whittier. music by g.w.c. [music] is this the land our fathers loved, the freedom which they toiled to win? is this the soil whereon they moved? are these the graves they slumber in? are we the sons by whom are borne, the mantles which the dead have won? and shall we crouch above these graves, with craven soul and fettered lip? yoke in with marked and branded slaves, and tremble at the driver's whip? bend to the earth our pliant knees, and speak--but as our masters please? shall outraged nature cease to feel? shall mercy's tears no longer flow? shall ruffian threats of cord and steel-- the dungeon's gloom--th' assassin's blow, turn back the spirit roused to save the truth--our country--and the slave? of human skulls that shrine was made, round which the priests of mexico before their loathsome idol prayed-- is freedom's altar fashioned so? and must we yield to freedom's god as offering meet, the negro's blood? shall tongues be mute, when deeds are wrought which well might shame extremest hell? shall freemen lock th' indignant thought? shall mercy's bosom cease to swell? shall honor bleed?--shall truth succumb? shall pen, and press, and soul be dumb? no--by each spot of haunted ground, where freedom weeps her children's fall-- by plymouth's rock--and bunker's mound-- by griswold's stained and shattered wall-- by warren's ghost--by langdon's shade-- by all the memories of our dead! by their enlarging souls, which burst the bands and fetters round them set-- by the free pilgrim spirit nursed within our inmost bosoms, yet,-- by all above--around--below-- be ours the indignant answer--no! no--guided by our country's laws, for truth, and right, and suffering man, be ours to strive in freedom's cause, as christians may--as freemen can! still pouring on unwilling ears that truth oppression only fears. to those i love. words by miss e.m. chandler. music from an old air by g.w.c. [music] oh, turn ye not displeased away, though i should sometimes seem too much to press upon your ear, an oft repeated theme; the story of the negro's wrongs is heavy at my heart, and can i choose but wish from you a sympathizing part? i turn to you to share my joy,--to soothe me in my grief-- in wayward sadness from your smiles, i seek a sweet relief: and shall i keep this burning wish to see the slave set free, locked darkly in my secret heart, unshared and silently? if i had been a friendless thing--if i had never known, how swell the fountains of the heart beneath affection's tone, i might have, careless, seen the leaf torn rudely from its stem, but clinging as i do to you, can i but feel for them? i could not brook to list the sad sweet music of a bird, though it were sweeter melody than ever ear hath heard, if cruel hands had quenched its light, that in the plaintive song, it might the breathing memory of other days prolong. and can i give my lip to taste the life-bought luxuries, wrung from those on whom a darker night of anguish has been flung-- or silently and selfishly enjoy my better lot, while those whom god hath bade me love, are wretched and forgot? oh no!--so blame me not, sweet friends, though i should sometimes seem too much to press upon your ear an oft repeated theme; the story of the negro's wrongs hath won me from my rest,-- and i must strive to wake for him an interest in your breast! we're coming! we're coming! air, "kinloch of kinloch." [music] we're coming, we're coming, the fearless and free, like the winds of the desert, the waves of the sea! true sons of brave sires who battled of yore, when england's proud lion ran wild on our shore! we're coming, we're coming, from mountain and glen, with hearts to do battle for freedom again; oppression is trembling as trembled before, the slavery which fled from our fathers of yore. we're coming, we're coming, with banners unfurled, our motto is freedom, our country the world; our watchword is liberty--tyrants beware! for the liberty army will bring you despair! we're coming, we're coming, we'll come from afar, our standard we'll nail to humanity's car; with shoutings we'll raise it, in triumph to wave, a trophy of conquest, or shroud for the brave. then arouse ye, brave hearts, to the rescue come on! the man-stealing army we'll surely put down; they are crushing their millions, but soon they must yield, for _freemen_ have _risen_ and taken the field. then arouse ye! arouse ye! the fearless and free, like the winds of the desert, the waves of the sea; let the north, west, and east, to the sea-beaten shore, _resound_ with a _liberty triumph_ once more. rouse up, new england. words by a yankee. music by g.w.c. [music] rouse up, new england! buckle on your mail of proof sublime, your stern old hate of tyranny, your deep contempt of crime; a traitor plot is hatching now, more full of woe and shame, than ever from the iron heart of bloodiest despot came. six slave states added at a breath! one flourish of a pen, and fetters shall be riveted on millions more of men! one drop of ink to sign a name, and slavery shall find for all her surplus flesh and blood, a market to her mind! a market where good democrats their fellow men may sell! o, what a grin of fiendish glee runs round and round thro' hell! how all the damned leap up for joy and half forget their fire, to think men take such pains to claim the notice of god's ire. is't not enough that we have borne the sneer of all the world, and bent to those whose haughty lips in scorn of us are curled? is't not enough that we must hunt their living chattels back, and cheer the hungry bloodhounds on, that howl upon their track? is't not enough that we must bow to all that they decree,-- these cotton and tobacco lords, these pimps of slavery? that we must yield our conscience up to glut oppression's maw, and break our faith with god to keep the letter of man's law? but must we sit in silence by, and see the chain and whip made firmer for all time to come in slavery's bloody grip! must we not only half the guilt and all the shame endure, but help to make our tyrant's throne of flesh and blood secure? is water running in our veins? do we remember still old plymouth rock, and lexington, and glorious bunker hill? the debt we owe our father's graves? and to the yet unborn, whose heritage ourselves must make a thing of pride or scorn? grey plymouth rock hath yet a tongue, and concord is not dumb, and voices from our father's graves, and from the future come; they call on us to stand our ground, they charge us still to be not only free from chains ourselves, but foremost to make free! awake, new england! while you sleep the foes advance their lines; already on your stronghold's wall their bloody banner shines; awake! and hurl them back again in terror and despair, the time has come for earnest deeds, we've not a man to spare. rise, freemen, rise. music by g.w.c. [music] rise, freemen rise! the call goes forth, attend the high command; obedience to the word of god, throughout this guilty land: throughout this guilty land. rise, free the slave; oh, burst his chains, and cast his fetters down; let virtue be your country's pride, her diadem and crown. then shall the day at length arrive, when all shall equal be, and freedom's banner, waving high, proclaim that all are free. remember me. o thou, from whom all goodness flows! i lift my heart to thee; in all my wrongs, oppressions, woes, dear lord! remember me. afflictions sore obstruct my way, and ills i cannot flee; lord! let my strength be as my day, and still remember me. oppressed with scourges, bonds, and grief, this feeble body see; oh! give my burdened soul relief, hear, and remember me. a beacon has been lighted. parody by g.w.c. air, "blue-eyed mary." [music] a beacon has been lighted, bright as the noonday sun; on worlds of mind benighted, its rays are pouring down; full many a shrine of error, and many a deed of shame, dismayed, has shrunk in terror, before the lighted flame. chorus. victorious, on, victorious! proud beacon onward haste; till floods of light all glorious, illume the moral waste. oppression foul has foundered, the demon gasps for breath; his rapid march is downward, to everlasting death. old age and youth united, his works shall prostrate hurl, and soon himself, affrighted, shall hurry from this world. victorious, on, victorious, &c. proud liberty untiring, strikes at the monster's heart; beneath her blows expiring, he dreads her well-aimed dart. her blows--we'll pray "god speed" them, oppression to despoil; and how we fought for freedom, let future ages tell. victorious, on, victorious, &c. our countrymen in chains. words by whittier. "beatitude," by t. hastings. [music] our fellow countrymen in chains, slaves in a land of light and law! slaves crouching on the very plains where rolled the storm of freedom's war! a groan from eutaw's haunted wood-- a wail where camden's martyrs fell-- by every shrine of patriot blood, from moultrie's wall and jasper's well. by storied hill and hallow'd grot, by mossy wood and marshy glen, whence rang of old the rifle-shot, and hurrying shout of marion's men! the groan of breaking hearts is there-- the falling lash--the fetter's clank! slaves--slaves are breathing in that air, which old de kalb and sumter drank! what, ho!--our countrymen in chains! the whip on woman's shrinking flesh! our soil yet reddening with the stains, caught from her scourging, warm and fresh! what! mothers from their children riven! what! god's own image bought and sold! americans to market driven, and barter'd as the brute for gold! speak! shall their agony of prayer come thrilling to our hearts in vain? to us, whose fathers scorn'd to bear the paltry menace of a chain; to us, whose boast is loud and long of holy liberty and light-- say, shall these writhing slaves of wrong, plead vainly for their plunder'd right? shall every flap of england's flag proclaim that all around are free, from "farthest ind" to each blue crag that beetles o'er the western sea? and shall we scoff at europe's kings, when freedom's fire is dim with us, and round our country's altar clings the damning shade of slavery's curse? just god! and shall we calmly rest, the christian's scorn--the heathen's mirth-- content to live the lingering jest and by-word of a mocking earth? shall our own glorious land retain that curse which europe scorns to bear? shall our own brethren drag the chain which not even russia's menials wear? down let the shrine of moloch sink, and leave no traces where it stood; no longer let its idol drink his daily cup of human blood: but rear another altar there, to truth, and love, and mercy given, and freedom's gift, and freedom's prayer, shall call an answer down from heaven! myron holley. by w.h. burleigh. yes--fame is his:--but not the fame for which the conqueror pants and strives, whose path is tracked through blood and flame, and over countless human lives! his name no armed battalions hail with bugle shriek or thundering gun,-- no widows curse him, as they wail for slaughtered husband and for son. amid the moral strife alone, he battled fearlessly and long, and poured, with clear, untrembling tone, rebuke upon the hosts of wrong-- to break oppression's cruel rod, he dared the perils of the fight, and in the name of freedom's god struck boldly for the true and right! with faith, whose eye was never dim, the triumph, yet afar, he saw, when, bonds smote off from soul and limb, and freed alike by love and law, the slave--no more a slave--shall stand erect--and loud, from sea to sea, exultant burst o'er all the land the glorious song of jubilee! why should we mourn, thy labor done, that thou art called to thy reward; rest, freedom's war-worn champion! rest, faithful soldier of the lord! for oh, not vainly hast thou striven, through storm, and gloom, and deepest night-- not vainly hath thy life been given for god, for freedom, and for right. voice of new england against slavery. words by whittier. music by g.w.c. [music] up the hill side, down the glen, rouse the sleeping citizen; summon out the might of men! like a lion growling low, like a nightstorm rising slow, like the tread of unseen foe. it is coming--it is nigh! stand your homes and altars by; on your own free threshholds die. clang the bells in all your spires; on the gray hills of your sires fling to heaven your signal fires. whoso shrinks or falters now, whoso to the yoke would bow, brand the craven on his brow. freedom's soil hath only place for a free and fearless race-- none for traitors false and base. take your land of sun and bloom; only leave to freedom room for her plough, and forge, and loom. take your slavery-blackened vales; leave us but our own free gales, blowing on our thousand sails. onward with your fell design; dig the gulf and draw the line; fire beneath your feet the mine: deeply, when the wide abyss yawns between your land and this, shall ye feel your helplessness. by the hearth, and in the bed, shaken by a look or tread, ye shall own a guilty dread. and the curse of unpaid toil, downward through your generous soil, like a fire shall burn and spoil. our bleak hills shall bud and blow, vines our rocks shall overgrow, plenty in our valleys flow;-- and when vengeance clouds your skies, hither shall ye turn your eyes, as the damned on paradise! we but ask our rocky strand, freedom's true and brother band, freedom's strong and honest hand, valleys by the slave untrod, and the pilgrim's mountain sod, blessed of our fathers' god! the clarion of freedom. words from the emancipator. music "the chariot." [music] the clarion--the clarion of freedom now sounds, from the east to the west independence resounds; from the hills, and the streams, and the far distant skies, let the shout independence from slav'ry arise. the army--the army have taken the field, and the liberty hosts never, never will yield; by free principles strengthened, each bosom now glows, and with ardor immortal the struggle they close. the armor, the armor that girds every breast, is the hope of deliverance for millions oppressed; o'er the tears, and the sighs, and the wrongs of the slave, see the white flag of freedom triumphantly wave. the conflict--the conflict will shortly be o'er, and the demon of slavery shall rule us no more; and the laurels of victory shall surely reward the heroes immortal who've conquered for god. strike for liberty. words from the christian freeman. air, "scots wha hae." [music] sons of freedom's honored sires, light anew your beacon fires, fight till every foe retires from your hallowed soil. sons of pilgrim fathers blest, pilgrim mothers gone to rest, listen to their high behest, strike for liberty. ministers of god to men, heed ye not the nation's sin? heaven's blessing can ye win if ye falter now? men of blood now ask your vote, o'er your heads their banners float; raise, oh raise the warning note, god and duty call! men of justice, bold and brave, to the ballot-box and save freedom from her opening grave-- onward! brothers, on! christian patriots, tried and true, freedom's eyes now turn to you; foes are many--are ye few? gideon's god is yours! on to victory. by rev. mrs. martyn. children of the glorious dead, who for freedom fought and bled, with her banner o'er you spread, on to victory. not for stern ambition's prize, do our hopes and wishes rise; lo, our leader from the skies, bids us do or die. ours is not the tented field-- we no earthly weapons wield-- light and love, our sword and shield, truth our panoply. this is proud oppression's hour; storms are round us; shall we cower? while beneath a despot's power groans the suffering slave? while on every southern gale, comes the helpless captive's tale, and the voice of woman's wail, and of man's despair? while our homes and rights are dear, guarded still with watchful fear, shall we coldly turn our ear from the suppliant's prayer? never! by our country's shame-- never! by a saviour's claim, to the men of every name, whom he died to save. onward, then, ye fearless band-- heart to heart, and hand to hand; yours shall be the patriot's stand-- or the martyr's grave. the man for me. parody by j.n.t. tucker. air, "the rose that all are praising." [music] oh, he is not the man for me, who buys or sells a slave, nor he who will not set him free, but sends him to his grave; but he whose noble heart beats warm for all men's life and liberty; who loves alike each human form-- oh that's the man for me, oh that's the man for me, oh that's the man for me. he's not at all the man for me, who sells a man for gain, who bends the pliant servile knee, to slavery's god of shame! but he whose god-like form erect proclaims that all alike are free to think, and speak, and vote, and act, oh that's the man for me. he sure is not the man for me whose spirit will succumb, when men endowed with liberty lie bleeding, bound and dumb; but he whose faithful words of might ring through the land from shore to sea, for man's eternal equal right, oh that's the man for me. no, no, he's not the man for me whose voice o'er hill and plain, breaks forth for glorious liberty, but binds himself, the chain! the mightiest of the noble band who prays and toils the world to free, with head, and heart, and voice, and vote-- oh that's the man for me. pilgrim song. words by geo. lunt. air "troubadour." [music] over the mountain wave see where they come; storm-cloud and wintry wind welcome them home; yet where the sounding gale howls to the sea, there their song peals along, deep toned and free. pilgrims and wanderers, hither we come; where the free dare to be, this is our home. england hath sunny dales, dearly they bloom; scotia hath heather-hills, sweet their perfume: yet through the wilderness cheerful we stray, native land, native land-- home far away! pilgrims, &c. dim grew the forest path, onward they trod: firm beat their noble hearts, trusting in god! gray men and blooming maids, high rose their song-- hear it sweep, clear and deep ever along! pilgrims, &c. not theirs the glory-wreath, torn by the blast; heavenward their holy steps, heavenward they passed! green be their mossy graves! ours be their fame, while their song peals along, ever the same! pilgrims, &c. the bondman. from the liberator. feebly the bondman toiled, sadly he wept-- then to his wretched cot mournfully crept: how doth his free-born soul pine 'neath his chain! slavery! slavery! dark is thy reign. long ere the break of day, roused from repose, wearily toiling till after its close-- praying for freedom, he spends his last breath: liberty! liberty! give me, or death. when, when, oh lord! will right triumph o'er wrong? tyrants oppress the weak, oh lord! how long? hark! hark! a peal resounds from shore to shore-- tyranny! tyranny! thy reign is o'er. e'en now the morning gleams from the east-- despots are feeling their triumph is past-- strong hearts are answering to freedom's loud call-- liberty! liberty! full and for all. fourth of july. words by mrs. sigourney. music by g.w.c. [music] we have a goodly clime, broad vales and streams we boast; our mountain frontiers frown sublime, old ocean guards our coast. suns bless our harvests fair, with fervid smile serene, but a dark shade is gathering there, what can its blackness mean? we have a birth-right proud, for our young sons to claim-- an eagle soaring o'er the cloud, in freedom and in fame. we have a scutcheon bright, by our dead fathers bought; a fearful blot distains its white-- who hath such evil wrought? our banner o'er the sea looks forth with starry eye, emblazoned glorious, bold and free, a letter on the sky-- what hand with shameful stain, hath marred its heavenly blue? the yoke, the fasces, and the chain, say, are these emblems true? this day doth music rare swell through our nation's bound, but afric's wailing mingles there, and heaven doth hear the sound. o god of power! we turn in penitence to thee, bid our loved land the lesson learn-- to bid the slave be free. ye spirits of the free. air--"my faith looks up to thee." [music] ye spirits of the free, can ye for ever see your brother man a yoked and scourged slave, chains dragging to his grave, and raise no hand to save? say if you can. in pride and pomp to roll, shall tyrants from the soul god's image tear, and call the wreck their own,-- while from th' eternal throne, they shut the stifled groan, and bitter prayer? shall he a slave be bound, whom god hath doubly crowned creation's lord? shall men of christian name, without a blush of shame, profess their tyrant claim from god's own word? no! at the battle cry, a host prepared to die, shall arm for fight-- but not with martial steel, grasped with a murderous zeal; no arms their foes shall feel, but love and light. firm on jehovah's laws, strong in their righteous cause, they march to save. and vain the tyrant's mail, against their battle-hail, till cease the woe and wail of tortured slave! sing me a triumph song. sing me a triumph song, roll the glad notes along, great god, to thee! thine be the glory bright, source of all power and might! for thou hast said, in might, man shall be free. sing me a triumph song, let all the sound prolong, air, earth, and sea, down falls the tyrant's power, see his dread minions cower; now, from this glorious hour, man will be free. sing me a triumph song, sing in the mighty throng, sing jubilee! let the broad welkin ring, while to heaven's mighty king, honor and praise we sing, for man is free. wake, sons of the pilgrims. air--"m'gregor's gathering." [music] wake, sons of the pilgrims, and look to your right! the despots of slav'ry are up in their might: indulge not in sleep, it's like digging the graves of blood-purchased freedom--'tis yielding like slaves. then halloo, halloo, halloo to the contest, awake from your slumbers, no longer delay, but struggle for freedom, while struggle you may-- then rally, rally, rally, rally, rally, rally, while our forests shall wave or while rushes a river, oh, yield not your birth-right! maintain it for ever! wake, sons of the pilgrims! why slumber ye on? your chains are now forging, your fetters are done; oh! sleep not, like samson, on slavery's foul arm, for, delilah-like, she's now planning your harm. then halloo, halloo, halloo, to the contest! awake from your sleeping--nor slumber again, once bound in your fetters, you'll struggle in vain; while your eye-balls may move, o wake up now, or never-- wake, freemen! awake, or you're ruined forever! yes, freemen are waking! we fling to the breeze, the bright flag of freedom, the banner of peace; the slave long forgotten, forlorn, and alone, we hail as a brother--our own mother's son! then halloo, halloo, halloo, to the contest! for freedom we rally--for freedom to all-- to rescue the slave, and ourselves too from thrall. we rally, rally, rally, rally, rally, rally-- while a slave shall remain, bound, the weak by the stronger, we will never disband, but strive harder and longer. our countrymen are dying. words by c.w. dennison. tune--"from greenland's icy mountains." [music] our countrymen are dying beneath their cankering chains, full many a heart is sighing, where nought but slav'ry reigns; no note of joy and gladness, no voice with freedom's lay, fall on them in their sadness, to wipe those tears away. where proud potomac dashes along its northern strand, where rappahannock lashes virginia's sparkling sand; where eutaw, famed in story, flows swift to santee's stream, there, there in grief and gory, the pining slave is seen! and shall new england's daughters, descendants of the free, beside whose far-famed waters is heard sweet minstrelsy-- shall they, when hearts are breaking, and woman weeps in woe, shall they, all listless waiting, no hearts of pity show. no! let the shout for freedom ring out a certain peal, let sire and youthful maiden, all who have hearts to feel, awake! and with the blessing of him who came to save, a holy, peaceful triumph, shall greet the kneeling slave! we ask not martial glory. we ask not "martial glory," nor "battles bravely won;" we tell no boastful story to laud our "favorite son;" we do not seek to gather from glory's field of blood, the laurels of the warrior, steeped in the crimson flood-- but we can boast that birney holds not the tyrant's rod, nor binds in chains and fetters, the image of his god; no vassal, at his bidding, is doomed the lash to feel; no menial crouches near him, no charley's[ ] at his heel. his heart is free from murder, his hand without its stain; his head and heart united, to loose the bondman's chain: his deeds of noble daring, shall make the tyrant cower; oppression flees before him, with all its boasted power. soon shall the voice of freedom, o'er earth its echoes roll-- and earth's rejoicing millions be free, from pole to pole. then rally round your leader, ye friends of liberty; and let the shout for birney, ring out o'er land and sea. [footnote : clay's body servant.] come, join the abolitionists. air--"when i can read my title clear." [music] come, join the abolitionists, ye young men bold and strong, and with a warm and cheerful zeal, come, help the cause along: come help the cause along, come help the cause along; and with a warm and cheerful zeal, come, help the cause along. oh that will be joyful, joyful, joyful, oh that will be joyful, when slav'ry is no more, when slav'ry is no more, when slav'ry is no more: 'tis then we'll sing, and off'rings bring, when slav'ry is no more. come, join the abolitionists, ye men of riper years, and save your wives and children dear, from grief and bitter tears: from grief and bitter tears, from grief and bitter tears; and save your wives and children dear, from grief and bitter tears. oh that will be joyful, joyful, joyful, oh that will be joyful, when slav'ry is no more, when slav'ry is no more, when slav'ry is no more: 'tis then we'll sing, and off'rings bring, when slav'ry is no more. come join the abolitionists, ye dames and maidens fair; and breathe around us in our path, affection's hallowed air. o that will be joyful, joyful, joyful, o that will be joyful, when woman cheers us on, when woman cheers us on, when woman cheers us on, to conquests not yet won; 'tis then we'll sing, and offerings bring, when woman cheers us on. come, join the abolitionists, ye sons and daughters all; of this our own america, come at the friendly call. o that will be joyful, joyful, o that will be joyful, when all shall proudly say, this, this is freedom's day, oppression flee away! 'tis then we'll sing and offerings bring, when freedom wins the day. we are come, all come. by g.w.c. [music] we are come, all come, with the crowded throng, to join our notes in a plaintive song; for the bond man sighs, and the scalding tear runs down his cheek while we mingle here. we are come, all come, with a hallowed vow, at the shrine of slavery never to bow, for the despot's reign o'er hill and plain, spreads grief and woe in his horrid train. we are come, all come, a determined band, to rescue the slave from the tyrant's hand; and our prayers shall ascend with our songs to him who sits in the midst of the cherubim. we are come, all come, in the strength of youth, in the light of hope and the power of truth; and we joy to see in our ranks to-day, the honored locks of the good and grey. we are come, all come, in our holy might, and freedom's foes shall be put to flight; oh god! with favoring smiles from thee, our songs shall soon chant the victory. the law of love. words by a lady. music by g.w.c. [music] blest is the man whose tender heart feels all another's pain, to whom the supplicating eye was never raised in vain, was never raised in vain. whose breast expands with generous warmth, a stranger's woe to feel, and bleeds in pity o'er the wound, he wants the power to heal, he wants the power to heal. he spreads his kind supporting arms, to every child of grief; his secret bounty largely flows, and brings unasked relief. to gentle offices of love his feet are never slow; he views, through mercy's melting eye, a brother in his foe. to him protection shall be shown, and mercy from above descend on those, who thus fulfil the perfect law of love. oh! charity! oh charity! thou heavenly grace, all tender, soft, and kind, a friend to all the human race, to all that's good inclined. the man of charity extends to all his helping hand; his kindred, neighbors, foes, and friends, his pity may command. the sick, the prisoner, deaf, and blind, and all the sons of grief, in him a benefactor find; he loves to give relief. 'tis love that makes religion sweet 'tis love that makes us rise; with willing minds, and ardent feet, to yonder happy skies. the mercy seat. words by mrs. sigourney. music by g.w.c. [music] from every stormy wind that blows, from every swelling tide of woes, there is a calm, a sure retreat-- our refuge is the mercy-seat. there is a place where jesus sheds the oil of gladness on our heads, a place than all beside more sweet-- we seek the blood-bought mercy-seat. there is a spot where spirits blend, where friend holds fellowship with friend; though sundered far, by faith we meet, around one common mercy-seat. ah! whither could we flee for aid, when hunted, scourged, oppressed, dismayed,-- or how our bloody foes defeat, had suffering slaves no mercy-seat! oh! let these hands forget their skill, these tongues be silent, cold, and still, these throbbing hearts forget to beat, if we forget the mercy-seat. friend of the friendless. god of my life! to thee i call, afflicted at thy feet i fall; when the great water-floods prevail, leave not my trembling heart to fail. friend of the friendless and the faint! where should i lodge my deep complaint? where but with thee, whose open door invites the helpless and the poor? did ever mourner plead with thee, and thou refuse that mourner's plea? does not thy word still fixed remain, that none shall seek thy face in vain? poor though i am, despised, forgot, yet god, my god forgets me not; and he is safe, he must succeed, for whom the lord vouchsafes to plead. wake ye numbers! words by lewis. air, "strike the cymbals." [music] wake ye numbers! from your slumbers hear the song of freedom pour! by its shaking, fiercely breaking, every chain upon our shore. flags are waving, all tyrants braving, proudly, freely, o'er our plains; let no minions check our pinions, while a single grief remains. proud oblations, thou queen of nations! have been poured upon they waters; afric's bleeding sons and daughters, now before us, loud implore us, looking to jehovah's throne, chains are wearing, hearts despairing, will ye hear a nation's moan? soothe their sorrow, ere the morrow change their aching hearts to stone: then the light of nature's smile freedom's realm shall bless the while; and the pleasure mercy brings flow from all her latent springs; delight shall spread, shall spread her shining wings, rejoicing, rejoicing, rejoicing. daily, nightly, burning brightly, glory's pillar fills the air; hearts are waking, chains are breaking, freedom bids her sons prepare: o'er the ocean, in proud devotion, incense rises to the skies; from our mountains, o'er our fountains, see, our eagle proudly flies! what deploring impedes his soaring? millions still in bondage sighing! long in deep oppression lying! shall their story mar our glory? must their life in sorrow flow? tears are falling! fetters galling! listen to the cry of woe! still oppressing! never blessing! shall their grief no ending know? yes! our nation yet shall feel; time shall break the chain of steel; then the slave shall nobly stand; peace shall smile with lustre bland; glory shall crown our happy land-- forever. comfort for the bondman. air--"indian philosopher." [music] come on, my partners in distress, my comrades in this wilderness, who groan beneath your chains; a while forget your griefs and fears, and look beyond this vale of tears, to yon celestial plains. beyond the bounds of time and space, look forward to that heavenly place, which mortals never trod; on faith's strong eagle pinions rise, work out your passage to the skies, and scale the mount of god. if, like our lord, we suffer here, we shall before his face appear, and at his side sit down; to patient faith the prize is sure, for all who to the end endure shall wear a glorious crown. thrice blessed, exalted, blissful hope! it lifts our fainting spirits up, it brings to life the dead; our bondage here will soon be past, then we shall rise and reign at last, triumphant with our head. come and see the works of god. lift up to god the shout of joy, let all the earth its powers employ, to sound his glorious praise; say, unto god--"how great art thou! thy foes before thy presence bow! how gracious are thy ways! "to thee all lands their homage bring, they raise the song, they shout, they sing the honors of thy name." come! see the wondrous works of god; how dreadful is his vengeful rod! how wide extends his fame! he made a highway through the sea, his people, long-enslaved, to free, and give them canaan's land; through endless years his reign extends, his piercing eye to earth he bends-- ye despots! fear his hand. o! bless our god, lift up your voice ye people! sing aloud--rejoice-- his mighty praise declare; the lord hath made our bondage cease, broke off our chains, brought sure release, and turned to praise our prayer. hark! a voice from heaven. words by oliver johnson. music--"zion." [music] hark! a voice from heaven proclaiming, comfort to the mourning slave; god has heard him long complaining, and extends his arm to save; proud oppression soon shall find a shameful grave; proud oppression, soon shall find a shameful end. see, the light of truth is breaking full and clear on every hand; and the voice of mercy speaking, now is heard through all the land: firm and fearless, see the friends of freedom stand. lo! the nation is arousing from its slumber long and deep; and the friends of god are waking, never, never more to sleep, while a bondman, in his chains remains to weep. long, too long, have we been dreaming o'er our country's sin and shame: let us now, the time redeeming, press the helpless captive's claim-- till exulting, he shall cast aside his chain. the pleasant land we love. words by n.p. willis. air, carrier dove. [music] joy to the pleasant land we love, the land our fathers trod! joy to the land for which they won "freedom to worship god." for peace on all its sunny hills, on every mountain broods, and sleeps by all its gushing rills, and all its mighty floods. the wife sits meekly by the hearth, her infant child beside; the father on his noble boy looks with a fearless pride. the grey old man, beneath the tree, tales of his childhood tells; and sweetly in the hush of morn peal out the sabbath bells. and we are free--but is there not one blot upon our name? is our proud record written fair upon the scroll of fame? our banner floateth by the shore, our flag upon the sea; but when the fettered slave is loosed, we shall be truly free! the freed slave. yet once again, once more again, my bark bounds o'er the wave; they know not, who ne'er clanked the chain, what 'tis to be a slave: to sit alone, beside the wood, and gaze upon the sky: this may, indeed, be solitude, but 'tis not slavery. fatigued with labor's noontide task, to sigh in vain for sleep; or faintly smile, our griefs to mask, when 't would be joy to weep; to court the shade of leafy bower, thirst for the freedom wave, but to obtain denied the power-- this is to be a slave! son of the sword! on honor's field 'tis thine to find a grave; yet, when from life's worst ill 'twould shield, it comes not to the slave. the lightsome to the heavy heart, the laugh changed to the sigh; to live from all we love apart-- oh! this is slavery. the liberty flag. altered from j.h. aikman. fling abroad its folds to the cooling breeze, let it float at the mast-head high; and gather around, all hearts resolved, to sustain it there or die: an emblem of peace and hope to the world, unstained let it ever be; and say to the world, where'er it waves, our flag is the flag of the free! that banner proclaims to the list'ning earth, that the reign of base tyrants is o'er, the galling chain of the cruel lord, shall enslave mankind no more: an emblem of hope to the poor and crushed, o place it where all may see; and shout with glad voice as you raise it high, our flag is the flag of the free! then on high, on high let that banner wave, and lead us the foe to meet, let it float in triumph o'er our heads, or be our winding sheet; and never, oh, never be it furled, 'till it wave o'er earth and sea; and all mankind shall swell the shout our flag is the flag of the free. march to the battlefield. parody by g.w.c. air "oft in the stilly night." [music] march to the battlefield, the foe is now before us; each heart is freedom's shield, and heaven is smiling o'er us. the woes and pains of slavery's chains, that bind three millions under; in proud disdain we'll burst their chain, and tear each link asunder. who for his country brave, would fly from her invader? who his base life to save would traitor like degrade her? our hallowed cause-- our homes and laws, 'gainst tyrant hosts sustaining, we'll win a crown of bright renown, or die, man's rights maintaining, march to the battlefield, &c. oft in the chilly night. by pierpont. oft in the chilly night, ere slumber's chain has bound me, when all her silvery light the moon is pouring round me, beneath its ray i kneel and pray that god would give some token that slavery's chains on southern plains, shall all ere long be broken: yes, in the chilly night, though slavery's chain has bound me, kneel i, and feel the might of god's right arm around me. when at the driver's call, in cold or sultry weather, we slaves, both great and small, turn out to toil together, i feel like one from whom the sun of hope has long departed; and morning's light, and weary night, still find me broken hearted: thus, when the chilly breath of night is sighing round me, kneel i, and wish that death in his cold chain had bound me. song of the free. parodied by g.w.c. tune, lutzow's wild hunt. [music] from valley and mountain, from hilltop and glen, what shouts thro' the air are rebounding! and echo is sending the sounds back again, and loud thro' the air they are sounding, and loud through the air they are sounding: and if you ask what those joyous strains? 'tis the songs of bondmen now bursting their chains. and who through our nation is waging the fight? what host from the battle is flying? our true hearted freemen maintain the right, and the monster oppression is dying, and the monster oppression is dying: and if you ask what you there behold? 'tis the army of freemen, the true and the bold. too long have slave-holders triumphantly reigned, too long in their chains have they bound us; to freedom awaking, no longer enchained, the goddess of freedom has saved us, the goddess of freedom has saved us: and if you ask what has made us free? 'tis the vote that gave us our liberty. holy freedom. by pierpont. the bondmen are free in the isles of the main! the chains from their limbs they are flinging! they stand up as men!--never tyrant again, in the pride of his heart, shall god's image profane! it is liberty's song that is ringing! hark! loud comes the cry o'er the bounding sea, "freedom! freedom! freedom, our joy is in thee!" alas! that to-day, on columbia's shore, the groans of her slaves are resounding! on plains of the south their life-blood they pour! o, freemen! blest freemen! your help they implore! it is slavery's wail that is sounding! hark! loud comes the cry on the southern gale, "freedom! freedom! freedom or death, must prevail!" o ye who are blest with fair liberty's light, with courage and hope all abounding, with weapons of love be ye bold for the right! by the preaching of truth put oppression to flight! then, your altars triumphant surrounding, loud, loud let the anthem of joy ring out! "freedom! freedom!" list all the world to the shout! ye sons of freemen. words by mrs. j.g. carter. air, "marseilles hymn." [music] ye sons of freemen wake to sadness, hark! hark, what myriads bid you rise; three millions of our race in madness break out in wails, in bitter cries, break out in wails, in bitter cries; must men whose hearts now bleed with anguish, yes, trembling slaves, in freedom's land endure the lash, nor raise a hand? must nature 'neath the whip-cord languish? have pity on the slave, take courage from god's word; pray on, pray on, all hearts resolved, these captives shall be free. the fearful storm--it threatens lowering, which god in mercy long delays; slaves yet may see their masters cowering, while whole plantations smoke and blaze! while whole plantations smoke and blaze! and we may now prevent the ruin, ere lawless force with guilty stride shall scatter vengeance far and wide-- with untold crimes their hands embruing. have pity on the slave; take courage from god's word; pray, on, pray on, all hearts resolved--these captives shall be free! with luxury and wealth surrounded, the southern masters proudly dare, with thirst of gold and power unbounded, to mete and vend god's light and air! to mete and vend god's light and air; like beasts of burden, slaves are loaded, till life's poor toilsome day is o'er; while they in vain for right implore; and shall they longer still be goaded? have pity on the slave; take courage from god's word; toil on, toil on, all hearts resolved these captives shall be free. o liberty! can man e'er bind thee? can overseers quench thy flame? can dungeons, bolts, or bars confine thee, or threats thy heaven born spirit tame? or threats thy heaven born spirit tame? too long the slave has groaned bewailing the power these heartless tyrants wield; yet free them not by sword or shield, for with men's heart's they're unavailing, have pity on the slave: take courage from god's word; vote on! vote on! all hearts resolved--these captives shall be free! are ye truly free? words by j.r. lowell. air, "martyn." [music] men! whose boast it is that ye come of fathers brave and free; if there breathe on earth a slave, are ye truly free and brave? are ye not base slaves indeed, men unworthy to be freed? if ye do not feel the chain, when it works a brother's pain? women! who shall one day bear sons to breathe god's bounteous air, if ye hear without a blush, deeds to make the roused blood rush like red lava through your veins, for your sisters now in chains; answer! are ye fit to be mothers of the brave and free? is true freedom but to break fetters for our own dear sake, and, with leathern hearts forget that we owe mankind a debt? no! true freedom is to share all the chains our brothers wear, and with hand and heart to be earnest to make others free. they are slaves who fear to speak for the fallen and the weak; they are slaves, who will not choose hatred, scoffing, and abuse, rather than, in silence, shrink from the truth they needs must think; they are slaves, who dare not be in the right with _two_ or _three_. that's my country. does the land, in native might, pant for liberty and right? long to cast from human kind chains of body and of mind-- that's my country, that's the land i can love with heart and hand, o'er her miseries weep and sigh, for her glory live and die. does the land her banner wave, most invitingly, to save; wooing to her arms of love, strangers who would freemen prove? that's the land to which i cling, of her glories i can sing, on her altar nobly swear higher still her fame to rear. does the land no conquest make, but the war for honor's sake-- count the greatest triumph won, that which most of good has done-- that's the land approved of god; that's the land whose stainless sod o'er my sleeping dust shall bloom, noblest land and noblest tomb! liberty battle-song. from "the emancipator." air--"our warrior's heart." [music] arouse, ye friends of law and right, arouse, arouse, arouse! all who in freedom's cause delight, arouse, arouse, arouse! the time, the time, is drawing near, when we must at our posts appear; then clear the decks for action, clear! arouse, arouse, arouse! awake, and couch truth's fatal dart awake! awake! awake! bid error to the shades depart, awake! awake! awake! prepare to deal the deadly blow, to lay the power of slavery low, a ballot, lads, is our veto; awake! awake! awake! arise! ye sons of honest toil, arise! arise! arise! ye free-born tillers of the soil, arise! arise! arise! come from your workshops and the field, we've sworn to conquer ere we'll yield; the ballot-box is freedom's shield, arise! arise! arise! unite, and strike for equal laws, unite! unite! unite! for equal justice! that's our cause unite! unite! unite! shall the vile slavites win the day? shall men of whips and blood bear sway? unite, and dash their chains away, unite! unite! unite! march on! and vote the hireling down, march on! march on! march on! our blighted land with blessings crown, march on! march on! march on! shall manhood ever wear the chain? shall freedom look to us in vain? up to the struggle! strike again! march on! march on! march on! hurrah! the word pass down the line, hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! birney's and morris' name shall shine, hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! like comets, on their country's page, without a cloud, undimmed by age, revered by patriot and by sage; hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! birney and liberty. hurrah! the ball is rolling on, hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! in spite of whig or loco don, hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! our country still has hopes to rise, the bravest efforts win the prize, hurrah! &c. with joy elate our friends appear, hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! our vaunting foes are filled with fear, hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! ten thousand slaves have run away from georgia to canada; hurrah! &c. lo! all the world for birney now, hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! see! as he comes the parties bow, hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! no iron mixed with miry clay, will ever do, the people say, hurrah! &c. then up, ye hearties, one and all! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! be faithful to your country's call; hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! let none the vote of freedom shun, run to the meeting--run, run, run! hurrah, &c. be birney's name the one you choose, hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! let not a soul his ballot lose, hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! no other man in this our day will ever do, the people say: hurrah! &c. the ballot-box. air--from "lincoln." [music] freedom's consecrated dower, casket of a priceless gem! nobler heritage of power, than imperial diadem! corner-stone, on which was reared, liberty's triumphal dome, when her glorious form appeared, 'midst our own green mountain home. guard it, freemen! guard it well, spotless as your maiden's fame! never let your children tell of your weakness, of your shame; that their fathers basely sold, what was bought with blood and toil, that you bartered right for gold, here, on freedom's sacred soil. let your eagle's quenchless eye, fixed, unerring, sleepless, bright, watch, when danger hovers nigh, from his lofty mountain height; while the stripes and stars shall wave o'er this treasure, pure and free-- the land's palladium, it shall save the home and shrine of liberty. christian mother. by miss c. christian mother, when thy prayer, trembles on the twilight air, and thou askest god to keep in their waking and their sleep, those, whose love is more to thee than the wealth of land or sea-- think of those who wildly mourn for the loved ones from them torn. christian daughter, sister, wife, ye who wear a guarded life, ye, whose bliss hangs not, thank god, on a tyrant's word or nod, will ye hear, with careless eye, of the wild, despairing cry, rising up from human hearts, as their latest bliss departs. blest ones, whom no hands on earth, dare to wrench from home and hearth, ye, whose hearts are sheltered well, by affection's holy spell; oh, forget not those for whom life is nought but changeless gloom! o'er whose days, so woe-begone, hope may paint no brighter dawn. the liberty party. words by e. wright, jr. tune--"'tis dawn, the lark is singing." [music] will ye despise the acorn, just thrusting out its shoot, ye giants of the forest, that strike the deepest root? will ye despise the streamlets upon the mountain side; ye broad and mighty rivers, on sweeping to the tide? wilt thou despise the crescent, that trembles, newly born, thou bright and peerless planet, whose reign shall reach the morn? time now his scythe is whetting, ye giant oaks, for you; ye floods, the sea is thirsting, to drink you like the dew. that crescent, faint and trembling, her lamp shall nightly trim, till thou, imperious planet, shall in her light grow dim; and so shall wax the party, now feeble at its birth, till liberty shall cover this tyrant trodden earth. that party, as we term it, the party of the whole-- has for its firm foundation, the substance of the soul; it groweth out of reason, the strongest soil below; the smaller is its budding, the more its room to grow! then rally to its banners, supported by the true-- the weakest are the waning, the many are the few: of what is small, but living, god makes himself the nurse; while "onward" cry the voices of all his universe. our plant is of the cedar, that knoweth not decay: its growth shall bless the mountains, till mountains pass away. god speed the infant party, the party of the whole-- and surely he will do it, while reason is its soul. be free, o man, be free. words by mary h. maxwell. music by g.w.c. [music] the storm-winds wildly blowing, the bursting billows mock, as with their foam-crests glowing, they dash the sea-girt rock; amid the wild commotion, the revel of the sea, a voice is on the ocean, be free, o man, be free. behold the sea-brine leaping high in the murky air; list to the tempest sweeping in chainless fury there. what moves the mighty torrent, and bids it flow abroad? or turns the rapid current? what, but the voice of god? then, answer, is the spirit less noble or less free? from whom does it inherit the doom of slavery? when man can bind the waters, that they no longer roll, then let him forge the fetters to clog the human soul. till then a voice is stealing from earth and sea, and sky, and to the soul revealing its immortality. the swift wind chants the numbers careering o'er the sea, and earth aroused from slumbers, re-echoes, "man, be free." arouse! arouse! arouse, arouse, arouse! ye bold new england men! no more with sullen brows, remain as ye have been: your country's freedom calls, once bought by patriots' blood; rouse, or that freedom falls beneath the tyrant's rod! three million men in chains, your friendly aid implore; slight you the piteous strains that from their bosoms pour? shall it be told in story, or troll'd in burning song, new england's boasted glory forgot the bondman's wrong? shall freeman's sons be taunted, that freedom's spirit's fled; that what the fathers vaunted, with sordid sons is dead? that they in grovelling gain have lost their ancient fire, and 'neath the despot's chain, let liberty expire? oh no, your father's bones would cry out from the ground; ay, e'en new england's stones would echo on the sound: rouse, then, new england men! rally in freedom's name! in your bosoms once again light up the sleeping flame! the last night of slavery. tune--"cherokee death-song." [music] let the floods clap their hands, let the mountains rejoice, let all the glad lands breathe a jubilant voice; the sun that now sets on the waves of the sea shall gild with his rising the land of the free. let the islands be glad! for their king in his might, who his glory hath clad with a garment of light, in the waters the beams of his chambers hath laid, and in the green waters his pathway hath made. no more shall the deep, lend its awe-stricken waves, in their caverns to steep its wild burden of slaves; the lord sitteth king--sitteth king on the flood, he heard, and hath answered the voice of their blood. dispel the blue haze, golden fountain of morn! with meridian blaze the wide ocean adorn: the sunlight has touched the glad waves of the sea, and day now illumines the land of the free. the little slave girl. words by a lady. air--morgiana in ireland. [music] when bright morning lights the hills, where free children sing most cheerily, my young breast with sorrow fills, while here i plod my way so wearily: sad my face, more sad my heart, from home, from all i had to part, a loving mother, my sister, my brother, for chains and lash in hopeless misery, children try it, could you try it; but one day to live in slavery, children try it, try it, try it; come, come, give me liberty. ere i close my eyes to sleep, thoughts of home keep coming over me; all alone i wake and weep-- yet mother hears not--no one pities me-- never smiling, sick, forlorn, oh that i had ne'er been born! i should not sorrow to die to-morrow, then mother earth would kindly shelter me; children try it, could you try it! give me freedom, yes, from misery! children try it, try it, try it! come, come, give me liberty! stolen we were. words by a colored man. [music] stolen we were from africa, transported to america; it's work all day and half the night, and rise before the morning light; sinner! man! why don't you repent? for the judgment is rolling around! for the judgment is rolling around! like the brute beast in public street, endure the cold and stand the heat; king jesus told you once before to go your way and sin no more; sinner! man! &c. if e'er i reach the northern shore, i'll ne'er go back, no, never more; i think i hear these ladies say, we'll sing for freedom night and day; sinner! man! &c. now let us all, yes, every man, vote for the slave, for now we can; break every chain and every yoke, vote not for clay nor james k. polk; sinner! man! &c. come let us go for james g. birney, who sells not flesh and blood for money; he is the man you all can see, who gave his slaves their liberty; sinner! man! &c. we hail thee as an honest man, god made thee on his noblest plan; to stand for freedom in that hour, to thrust a blow at slavery's power; sinner! man! &c. a vision.[ ] words by crary. music by g.w.c. [footnote : scene in the nether world--purporting to be a conversation between the departed ghost of a southern slaveholding clergyman, and the devil!] [music] at dead of night, when others sleep, near hell i took my station; and from that dungeon, dark and deep, o'erheard this conversation: "hail, prince of darkness, ever hail, adored by each infernal, i come among your gang to wail, and taste of death eternal." "where are you from?" the fiend demands, "what makes you look so frantic? are you from carolina's strand, just west of the atlantic? are you that man of blood and birth, devoid of human feeling? the wretch i saw, when last on earth, in human cattle dealing? "whose soul, with blood and rapine stain'd, with deeds of crime to dark it; who drove god's image, starved and chained, to sell like beasts in market? who tore the infant from the breast, that you might sell its mother? whose craving mind could never rest, till you had sold a brother? "who gave the sacrament to those whose chains and handcuffs rattle? whose backs soon after felt the blows, more heavy than thy cattle?" "i'm from the south," the ghost replies, "and i was there a teacher; saw men in chains, with laughing eyes: i was a southern preacher! "in tassled pulpits, gay and fine, i strove to please the tyrants, to prove that slavery is divine, and what the scripture warrants. and when i saw the horrid sight, of slaves by tortures dying, and told their masters all was right, i knew that i was lying. "i knew all this, and who can doubt, i felt a sad misgiving? but still, i knew, if i spoke out, that i should lose my living. they made me fat, they paid me well, to preach down abolition, i slept--i died--i woke in hell, how altered my condition! "i now am in a sea of fire, whose fury ever rages; i am a slave, and can't get free, through everlasting ages. yes! when the sun and moon shall fade, and fire the rocks dissever, i must sink down beneath the shade, and feel god's wrath for ever." our ghost stood trembling all the while-- he saw the scene transpiring; with soul aghast and visage sad, all hope was now retiring. the demon cried, on vengeance bent, "i say, in haste, retire! and you shall have a negro sent to attend and punch the fire." get off the track. words by jesse hutchinson. air, "dan tucker." [music] ho! the car emancipation rides majestic thro' our nation, bearing on its train the story, liberty! a nation's glory. roll it along, roll it along, roll it along, thro' the nation, freedom's car, emancipation! men of various predilections, frightened, run in all directions; merchants, editors, physicians, lawyers, priests, and politicians. get out of the way! every station! clear the track of 'mancipation! let the ministers and churches leave behind sectarian lurches; jump on board the car of freedom, ere it be too late to need them. sound the alarm! pulpits thunder! ere too late you see your blunder! politicians gazed, astounded, when, at first, our bell resounded: _freight trains_ are coming, tell these foxes, with our _votes_ and _ballot boxes_. jump for your lives! politicians, from your dangerous, false positions. railroads to emancipation cannot rest on _clay_ foundation. and the _tracks_ of '_the polk-itian_' are but railroads to perdition! pull up the rails! emancipation cannot rest on such foundation. all true friends of emancipation, haste to freedom's railroad station; quick into the cars get seated, all is ready and completed.-- put on the steam! all are crying, and the liberty flags are flying. on, triumphant see them bearing, through sectarian rubbish tearing; the bell and whistle and the steaming, startle thousands from their dreaming. look out for the cars while the bell rings! ere the sound your funeral knell rings. see the people run to meet us; at the depôts thousands greet us; all take seats with exultation, in the car emancipation. huzza! huzza!! emancipation soon will bless our happy nation. huzza! huzza! huzza!!! emancipation song. words from the "bangor gazette." air, "crambambule." [music] let waiting throngs now lift their voices, as freedom's glorious day draws near, while every gentle tongue rejoices, and each bold heart is filled with cheer, the slave has seen the northern star, he'll soon be free, hurrah, hurrah! hurrah, hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! though many still are writhing under the cruel whips of "chevaliers," who mothers from their children sunder, and scourge them for their helpless tears-- their safe deliv'rance is not far! the day draws nigh!--hurrah, hurrah! just ere the dawn the darkness deepest surrounds the earth as with a pall; dry up thy tears, o thou that weepest, that on thy sight the rays may fall! no doubt let now thy bosom mar: send up the shout--hurrah, hurrah! shall we distrust the god of heaven?-- he every doubt and fear will quell; by him the captive's chains are riven-- so let us loud the chorus swell! man shall be free from cruel law,-- man shall be man!--hurrah, hurrah! no more again shall it be granted to southern overseers to rule-- no more will pilgrims' sons be taunted with cringing low in slavery's school. so clear the way for freedom's car-- the free shall rule!--hurrah, hurrah! send up the shout emancipation-- from heaven let the echoes bound-- soon will it bless this franchised nation,-- come raise again the stirring sound? emancipation near and far-- swell up the shout--hurrah! hurrah! harbinger of liberty. words by a lady. music by g.w.c. [music] see yon glorious star ascending, brightly o'er the southern sea! truth and peace on earth portending, herald of a jubilee! hail it, freemen! hail it, freemen! 'tis the star of liberty. dim at first--but widely spreading, soon 'twill burst supremely bright, life and health and comfort shedding o'er the shades of moral night; hail it, bondmen! slavery cannot bear its light. few its rays--'t is but the dawning of the reign of truth and peace; joy to slaves--yet sad forewarning, to the tyrants of our race; tremble, tyrants! soon your cruel pow'r will cease. earth is brighten'd by the glory of its mild and peaceful rays; ransom'd slaves shall tell the story, see its light, and sing its praise; hail it, christians! harbinger of better days. light of truth. hark! a voice from heaven proclaiming comfort to the mourning slave; god has heard him long complaining, and extends his arm to save; proud oppression soon shall find a shameful grave. see! the light of truth is breaking, full and clear on ev'ry hand; and the voice of mercy, speaking, now is heard through all the land; firm and fearless, see the friends of freedom stand! lo! the nation is arousing from its slumbers, long and deep; and the church of god is waking, never, never more to sleep, while a bondman, in his chains remains to weep. long, too long, have we been dreaming, o'er our country's sin and shame; let us now, the time redeeming, press the helpless captive's claim, till, exulting, he shall cast aside his chain. ode to james g. birney. words by elizur wright. music by g.w.c. [music] we hail thee, birney, just and true, the calm and fearless, staunch and tried, the bravest of the valiant few, our country's hope, our country's pride! in freedom's battle take the van; we hail thee as an honest man. thy country, in her darkest hour, when heroes bend at mammon's shrine, and virtue sells herself to power, lights up in smiles at deeds like thine! then welcome to the battle's van-- we _hail_ thee as an honest man! thy own example leads the way from egypt's gloom to canaan's light; thy justice is the breaking day of slavery's long and guilty night; then welcome to the battle's van-- we hail thee as an honest man. thine is the eagle eye to see, and thine a human heart to feel; a worthy leader of the free, we'll trust thee with a nation's weal; we'll trust thee in the battle's van-- we _hail_ thee as an honest man. an _honest man_--an _honest man_-- god made thee on his noblest plan, to do the right and brave the scorn; to stand in freedom's "hope forlorn;" then welcome to the triumph's van-- we hail thee as our chosen man! a tribute to departed worth.[ ] [footnote : as sung by g.w.c. at the erection of the monument to the memory of myron holley, mount hope, rochester. it may be sung as a dirge.] [music] oh, it is not the tear at this moment shed, when the cold turf has just been laid o'er him, that can tell how beloved was the soul that's fled, or how deep in our hearts we deplore him: 'tis the tear through many a long day wept, through a life by his loss all shaded, 'tis the sad remembrance fondly kept, when all other griefs have faded. oh! thus shall we mourn, and his memory's light while it shines through our hearts will improve them; for worth shall look fairer, and truth more bright, when we think how he lived but to love them. and as buried saints the grave perfume, where fadeless they've long been lying;-- so our hearts shall borrow a sweetening bloom from the image he left there in dying. the liberty voter's song. words by e. wright, jr. air, from "niel gow's farewell." [music] the vote, the vote, the mighty vote, though once we used a humbler note, and prayed our servants to be just, we tell the now they must, they must. chorus. the tyrant's grapple, by our vote, we'll loosen from our brother's throat, with washington we here agree, the vote's the weapon of the free. we'll scatter not the precious power on parties that to slavery cower; but make it one against the wrong, till down it comes, a million strong. the tyrant's grapple, &c. we'll bake the dough-face with our vote, who stood the scorching when we wrote; and paler than the milky way, we'll bake the plastic face of clay. the tyrant's grapple, &c. our vote shall teach all statesmen law, who in the southern harness draw; so well contented to be slaves, they fain would prove their fathers knaves! the tyrant's grapple, &c. we'll not provoke our wives to use a power that we through fear abuse; his mother shall not blush to own one voter of us for a son. the tyrant's grapple, by our vote, we'll loosen from our brother's throat; with washington we here agree, whose mother taught him to be free! the liberty ball. g.w.c. air, "rosin the bow." [music] come all ye true friends of the nation, attend to humanity's call; come aid the poor slave's liberation, and roll on the liberty ball-- and roll on the liberty ball-- and roll on the liberty ball, come aid the poor slave's liberation, and roll on the liberty ball. the liberty hosts are advancing-- for freedom to _all_ they declare; the down-trodden millions are sighing-- come, break up our gloom of despair. come break up our gloom of despair, &c. ye democrats, come to the rescue, and aid on the liberty cause, and millions will rise up and bless you with heart-cheering songs of applause, with heart-cheering songs, &c. ye whigs forsake clay and _john tyler_! and boldly step into our ranks; we'll spread our pure banner still wider, and invite all the friends of the banks,-- and invite all the friends of the banks, &c. and when we have formed the blest union we'll firmly march on, one and all-- we'll sing when we meet in communion, and _roll on_ the liberty ball, and roll on the liberty ball, &c. how can you stand halting while virtue is sweetly appealing to all; then haste to the standard of duty, and roll on the liberty ball; and roll on the liberty ball, &c. the question of test is now turning, and freedom or slavery must fall, while hope in the bosom is burning, we'll roll on the liberty ball; we'll roll on the liberty ball, &c. ye freemen attend to your voting, your ballots will answer the call; and while others attend to _log-rolling_, we'll roll on the liberty ball-- we'll roll on the liberty ball, &c. the trumpet of freedom. hark! hark! to the trumpet of freedom! her rallying signal she blows: come, gather around her broad banner, and battle 'gainst liberty's foes. our forefathers plighted their honor, their lives and their property, too, to maintain in defiance of britain, their principles, righteous and true. we'll show to the world we are worthy the blessings our ancestors won, and finish the temple of freedom, that hancock and franklin begun. hurra, for the old-fashioned doctrine, that men are created all free! we ever will boldly maintain it, nor care who the tyrant may be. when poland was fighting for freedom, our voices went over the sea, to bid her god-speed in the contest-- that poland, like us, might be free. when down-trodden greece had up-risen, and baffled the mahomet crew; we rejoiced in the glorious issue, that greece had her liberty, too. repeal, do we also delight in-- three cheers for the "gem of the sea!" and soon may the bright day be dawning, when ireland, like us, shall be free. like us, who are foes to oppression; but not like america now. with shame do we blush to confess it, too many to slavery bow. we're foes unto wrong and oppression, no matter which side of the sea; and ever intend to oppose them, till all of god's image are free. some tell us because men are colored, they should not our sympathy share; we ask not the form or complexion-- the seal of our maker is there! success to the old-fashioned doctrine, that men are created all free! and down with the power of the despot, wherever his strongholds may be. we're proud of the name of a freeman, and proud of the character, too; and never will do any action, save such as a freeman may do. we'll finish the temple of freedom, and make it capacious within, that all who seek shelter may find it, whatever the hue of their skin. for thus the almighty designed it, and gave to our fathers the plan; intending that liberty's blessings, should rest upon every man. then up with the cap-stone and cornice, with columns encircle its wall, throw open its gateway, and make it a home and a refuge for all! break every yoke. tune--"o no, we never mention her." [music] break every yoke, the gospel cries, and let th' oppressed go free, let every captive taste the joys of peace and liberty. send thy good spirit from above, and melt th' oppressor's heart, send sweet deliv'rance to the slave, and bid his woes depart. lord, when shall man thy voice obey, and rend each iron chain, oh when shall love its golden sway, o'er all the earth maintain. with freedom's blessings crown his day-- o'erflow his heart with love, teach him that straight and narrow way, which leads to rest above. the yankee girl. words by whittier. music by g.w.c. [music] she sings by her wheel at that low cottage door, which the long evening shadow is stretching before; with a music as sweet as the music which seems breathed softly and faint in the ear of our dreams! how brilliant and mirthful the light of her eye, like a star glancing out from the blue of the sky! and lightly and freely her dark tresses play o'er a brow and a bosom as lovely as they! who comes in his pride to that low cottage-door-- the haughty and rich to the humble and poor? 'tis the great southern planter--the master who waves his whip of dominion o'er hundreds of slaves. "nay, ellen--for shame! let those yankee fools spin, who would pass for our slaves with a change of their skin; let them toil as they will at the loom or the wheel, too stupid for shame, and too vulgar to feel! "but thou art too lovely and precious a gem to be bound to their burdens and sullied by them-- for shame, ellen, shame!--cast thy bondage aside, and away to the south, as my blessing and pride. "oh, come where no winter thy footsteps can wrong, but where flowers are blossoming all the year long, where the shade of the palm tree is over my home, and the lemon and orange are white in their bloom! "oh, come to my home, where my servants shall all depart at thy bidding and come at thy call; they shall heed thee as mistress with trembling and awe, and each wish of thy heart shall be felt as a law." oh, could ye have seen her--that pride of our girls-- arise and cast back the dark wealth of her curls, with a scorn in her eye which the gazer could feel, and a glance like the sunshine that flashes on steel! "go back, haughty southron! thy treasures of gold are dim with the blood of the hearts thou hast sold! thy home may be lovely, but round it i hear the crack of the whip and the footsteps of fear! "and the sky of thy south may be brighter than ours, and greener thy landscapes, and fairer thy flowers; but, dearer the blast round our mountains which raves, than the sweet summer zephyr which breathes over slaves! "full low at thy bidding thy negroes may kneel, with the iron of bondage on spirit and heel; yet know that the yankee girl sooner would be in _fetters_ with _them_, than in freedom with _thee_!" freedom's gathering. words from the pennsylvania freeman. music by g.w.c. [music] a voice has gone forth, and the land is awake! our freemen shall gather from ocean to lake, our cause is as pure as the earth ever saw, and our faith we will pledge in the thrilling huzza. then huzza, then huzza, truth's glittering falchion for freedom we draw. let them blacken our names and pursue us with ill, our hearts shall be faithful to liberty still; then rally! then rally! come one and come all, with harness well girded, and echo the call. thy hill-tops, new england, shall leap at the cry, and the prairie and far distant south shall reply; it shall roll o'er the land till the farthermost glen gives back the glad summons again and again. oppression shall hear in its temple of blood, and read on its wall the handwriting of god; niagara's torrent shall thunder it forth, it shall burn in the sentinel star of the north. it shall blaze in the lightning, and speak in the thunder, till slavery's fetters are riven asunder, and freedom her rights has triumphantly won, and our country her garments of beauty put on. then huzza, then huzza, truth's glittering falchion for freedom we draw. let them blacken our names, and pursue us with ill, we bow at thy altar, sweet liberty still! as the breeze f'm the mountain sweeps over the river, so, changeless and free, shall our thoughts be, for ever. then on to the conflict for freedom and truth; come matron, come maiden, come manhood and youth, come gather! come gather! come one and come all, and soon shall the altars of slavery fall. the forests shall know it, and lift up their voice, to bid the green prairies and valleys rejoice; and the "father of waters," join mexico's sea, in the anthem of nature for millions set free. then huzza! then huzza! truth's glittering falchion for freedom we draw. be kind to each other. by charles swain. be kind to each other! the night's coming on, when friend and when brother perchance may be gone! then 'midst our dejection, how sweet to have earned the blest recollection, of kindness--returned! when day hath departed, and memory keeps her watch, broken-hearted, where all she loved sleeps! let falsehood assail not, nor envy disprove-- let trifles prevail not against those ye love! nor change with to-morrow, should fortune take wing, but the deeper the sorrow, the closer still cling! oh! be kind to each other! the night's coming on, when friend and when brother perchance may be gone. praise and prayer. words by miss chandler. [music] praise for slumbers of the night, for the wakening morning's light, for the board with plenty spread, gladness o'er the spirit shed; healthful pulse and cloudless eye, opening on the smiling sky. praise! for loving hearts that still with life's bounding pulses thrill; praise, that still our own may know-- earthly joy and earthly woe. praise for every varied good, bounteous round our pathway strew'd! prayer! for grateful hearts to raise incense meet of prayer and praise! prayer, for spirits calm and meek, wisdom life's best joys to seek; strength 'midst devious paths to tread-- that through which the saviour led. prayer! for those who, day by day, weep their bitter life away; prayer, for those who bind the chain rudely on their throbbing vein-- that repentance deep may win pardon for the fearful sin! the slave's lamentation. a parody by tucker. air, "long, long ago." [music] where are the friends that to me were so dear, long, long ago, long, long ago! where are the hopes that my heart used to cheer? long, long ago, long, long ago! friends that i loved in the grave are laid low, all hope of freedom hath fled from me now. i am degraded, for man was my foe, long, long ago, long, long ago! sadly my wife bowed her beautiful head-- long, long ago--long ago! oh, how i wept when i found she was dead! long, long ago--long ago! she was my angel, my love and my pride-- vainly to save her from torture i tried, poor broken heart! she rejoiced as she died, long, long ago--long, long ago! let me look back on the days of my youth-- long, long ago--long ago! master withheld from me knowledge and truth-- long, long ago--long ago! crushed all the hopes of my earliest day, sent me from father and mother away-- forbade me to read, nor allowed me to pray-- long, long ago--long, long ago! the stranger and his friend. montgomery and denison. tune, "duane street." [music] a poor wayfaring man of grief, hath often crossed me on my way, who sued so humbly for relief, that i could never answer nay; i had not power to ask his name, whither he went or whence he came; yet there was something in his eye, which won my love, i knew not why. once, when my scanty meal was spread, he entered--not a word he spake-- just perishing for want of bread, i gave him all; he blessed it, brake, and ate, but gave me part again: mine was an angel's portion then, for while i fed with eager haste, the crust was manna to my taste. 'twas night. the floods were out, it blew a winter hurricane aloof: i heard his voice abroad, and flew to bid him welcome to my roof; i warmed, i clothed, i cheered my guest, i laid him on my couch to rest: then made the ground my bed and seemed in eden's garden while i dreamed. i saw him bleeding in his chains, and tortured 'neath the driver's lash, his sweat fell fast along the plains, deep dyed from many a fearful gash: but i in bonds remembered him, and strove to free each fettered limb, as with my tears i washed his blood, me he baptized with mercy's flood. i saw him in the negro pew, his head hung low upon his breast, his locks were wet with drops of dew, gathered while he for entrance pressed within those aisles, whose courts are given that black and white may reach one heaven; and as i meekly sought his feet, he smiled, and made a throne my seat. in prison i saw him next condemned to meet a traitor's doom at morn; the tide of lying tongues i stemmed, and honored him midst shame and scorn. my friendship's utmost zeal to try, he asked if i for him would die; the flesh was weak, my blood ran chill, but the free spirit cried, "i will." then in a moment to my view, the stranger darted from disguise; the tokens in his hands i knew, my saviour stood before my eyes! he spoke, and my poor name he named-- "of me thou hast not been ashamed, these deeds shall thy memorial be; fear not, thou didst them unto me." we're for freedom through the land. words by j.e. robinson. music arranged from the "old granite state." [music] we are coming, we are coming! freedom's battle is begun! no hand shall furl her banner ere her victory be won! our shields are locked for liberty, and mercy goes before: tyrants tremble in your citadel! oppression shall be o'er. we will vote for birney, we will vote for birney, we're for morris and for birney, and for freedom through the land. we have hatred, dark and deep, for the fetter and the thong; we bring light for prisoned spirits, for the captive's wail a song; we are coming, we are coming! and, "no league with tyrant man," is emblazoned on our banner, while jehovah leads the van! we will vote for birney, we will vote for birney, we're for morris and for birney, and for freedom through the land! we are coming, we are coming! but we wield no battle brand: we are armed with truth and justice, with god's charter in our hand, and our voice which swells for freedom--freedom now and ever more-- shall be heard as ocean's thunder, when they burst upon the shore! we will vote for birney, we will vote for birney, we're for morris and for birney, and for freedom through the land. be patient, o, be patient! ye suffering ones of earth! denied a glorious heritage--our common right by birth; with fettered limbs and spirits, your battle shall be won! o be patient--we are coming! suffer on, suffer on! we will vote for birney, we will vote for birney, we're for morris and for birney, and for freedom through the land. we are coming, we are coming! not as comes the tempest's wrath, when the frown of desolation sits brooding o'er its path; but with mercy, such as leaves his holy signet-light upon the air in lambent beauty, when the darkened storm is gone. we will vote for birney, we will vote for birney, we're for morris and for birney, and for freedom through the land. o, be patient in your misery! be mute in your despair! while your chains are grinding deeper, there's a voice upon the air! ye shall feel its potent echoes, ye shall hear its lovely sound, we are coming! we are coming! bringing freedom to the bound! we will vote for birney, we will vote for birney, we're for morris and for birney, and for freedom through the land. note.--suggested by a song sung by george w. clark, at a recent convention in rochester, n.y. we are all children of one parent. words from the youth's cabinet. music by l. mason. [music] sister, thou art worn and weary, toiling for another's gain; life with thee is dark and dreary, filled with wretchedness and pain, thou must rise at dawn of light, and thy daily task pursue, till the darkness of the night hide thy labors from thy view. oft, alas! thou hast to bear sufferings more than tongue can tell; thy oppressor will not spare, but delights thy griefs to swell; oft thy back the scourge has felt, then to god thou'st raised the cry that the tyrant's heart he'd melt ere thou should'st in tortures die. injured sister, well we know that thy lot in life is hard; sad thy state of toil and wo, from all blessedness debarred; while each sympathizing heart pities thy forlorn distress; we would sweet relief impart, and delight thy soul to bless. and what lies within our power we most cheerfully will do, that will haste the blissful hour fraught with news of joy to you; and when comes the happy day that shall free our captive friend, when jehovah's mighty sway shall to slavery put an end: then, dear sister, we with thee will to heaven direct our voice; joyfully with voices free we'll in lofty strains rejoice; gracious god! thy name we'll bless, hallelujah evermore, thou hast heard in righteousness, and our sister's griefs are o'er. manhood. by robert burns. tune, "our warrior's hearts," page . is there, for honest poverty, that hangs his head, and a' that; the coward-slave, we pass him by, we dare be poor, for a' that; for a' that and a' that; our toils obscure, and a' that, the rank is but the guinea's stamp, the man's the gowd, for a' that. what though on homely fare we dine, wear hodden gray and a' that, gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, a man's a man for a' that; the honest man tho' e'er so poor, is king o' men for a' that; the rank is but the guinea's stamp, the man's the gowd for a' that. then let us pray that come it may, as come it will, for a' that, that sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, may bear the gree, and a' that; for a' that, and a' that, it's coming yet, for a' that, that man to man, the world all o'er shall brothers be, for a' that. terms explained:-- _gowd_--gold. _hodden_--homespun, or mean. _gree_--honor, or victory. the poor voter's song. air, "lucy long." they knew that i was poor, and they thought that i was base; they thought that i'd endure to be covered with disgrace; they thought me of their tribe, who on filthy lucre doat, so they offered me a bribe for my vote, boys! my vote! o shame upon my betters, who would my conscience buy! but i'll not wear their fetters, not i, indeed, not i! my vote? it is not mine to do with as i will; to cast, like pearls, to swine, to these wallowers in ill. it is my country's due, and i'll give it, while i can, to the honest and the true, like a man, like a man! o shame, &c. no, no, i'll hold my vote, as a treasure and a trust, my dishonor none shall quote, when i'm mingled with the dust; and my children when i'm gone, shall be strengthened by the thought, that their father was not one to be bought, to be bought! o shame, &c. the flying slave. from the bangor gazette. air:--"_to greece we give our shining blades_." the night is dark, and keen the air, and the slave is flying to be free; his parting word is one short prayer: oh god, but give me liberty! farewell--farewell: behind i leave the whips and chains, before me spreads sweet freedom's plains. one star shines in the heavens above that guides him on his lonely way;-- star of the north--how deep his love for thee, thou star of liberty! farewell--farewell: behind he leaves the whips and chains, before him spreads sweet freedom's plains. for the election. tune:--'_scots wha hae with wallace bled_.' ye who know and do the right, ye who cherish honor bright, ye who worship love and light, choose your side to-day. succor freedom, now you can, voting for an honest man; or you may from slavery's span, pick a polk or clay. boasts your vote no higher aim, than between two blots of shame that would stain our country's fame, just to choose the least? let it sternly answer no! let it straight for freedom go; let it swell the winds that blow from the north and east. blot!--the smaller--is a curse blighting conscience, honor, purse; give us any, give the worse, 'twill be less endured. freemen, is it god who wills you to choose, of foulest ills, that which only latest kills? no; he wills it cured. do your duty, he will aid; dare to vote as you have prayed; who e'er conquered, while his blade served his open foes. right established, would you see? feel that you yourselves are free; strike for that which ought to be-- god will bless the blows. hail the day! air:--"_wreathe the bowl_." hail the day whose joyful ray speaks of emancipation! the day that broke oppression's yoke-- the birth-day of a nation! when england's might put forth for right, achieved a fame more glorious than armies tried, or navies' pride, o'er land and sea victorious! soon may we gain an equal name in honor's estimation! and righteousness exalt and bless our glorious happy nation! brave hearts shall lend strong hands to rend foul slavery's bonds asunder, and liberty her jubilee proclaim, in tones of thunder! we hail afar fair freedom's star, her day-star brightly glancing; we hear the tramp from freedom's camp, assembling and advancing! no noisy drum nor murderous gun, no deadly fiends contending; but love and right their force unite, in peaceful conflict blending. fair freedom's host, in joyful boast, unfolds her banner ample! with channing's fame, and whittier's name, and birney's bright example! come join your hands with freedom's bands, new england's sons and daughters! speak your decree-- man shall be free-- as mountains, winds and waters! and haste the day whose coming ray speaks our emancipation! whose glorious light, enthroning right, shall bless and save the nation! (from the globe.) the ballot. by j.e. dow. air, "bonnie doon," page . dread sovereign, thou! the chainless will-- thy source the nation's mighty heart-- the ballot box thy cradle still-- thou speak'st, and nineteen millions start; thy subjects, sons of noble sires; descendants of a patriot band-- thy lights a million's household fires-- thy daily walk, my native land. and shall the safeguard of the free, by valor won on gory plains, become a solemn mockery while freemen breathe and virtue reigns? shall liberty be bought and sold by guilty creatures clothed with power? is honor but a name for gold, and principle a withered flower? the parricide's accursed steel has pierced thy sacred sovereignty; and all who think, and all who feel, must act or never more be free. no party chains shall bind us here; no mighty name shall turn the blow: then, wounded sovereignty, appear, and lay the base apostates low. the wretch, with hands by murder red, may hope for mercy at the last; and he who steals a nation's bread, may have oblivion's statute passed. but he who steals a sacred right, and brings his native land to scorn, shall die a traitor in her sight, with none to pity or to mourn. the spirit of the pilgrims. tune, "be free, oh man, be free," page . the spirit of the pilgrims is spreading o'er the earth, and millions now point to the land where freedom had her birth: hark! hear ye not the earnest cry that peals o'er every wave? "god above, in thy love, o liberate the slave!" ye heard of trampled poland, and of her sons in chains, and noble thoughts flashed through your minds and fire flowed through your veins. then wherefore hear ye not the cry that breaks o'er land and sea?-- "on each plain, rend the chain, and set the captive free!" oh, think ye that our fathers, (that noble patriot band,) could now look down with kindling joy, and smile upon the land? or would a trumpet-tone go forth, and ring from shore to shore;-- "all who stand, in this land, shall be free for evermore!" great god, inspire thy children, and make thy creatures just, that every galling chain may fall, and crumble into dust: that not one soul throughout the land our fathers died to save, may again, by fellow-men, be branded as a slave! what mean ye? tune--'_ortonville_.' what mean ye that ye bruise and bind my people, saith the lord, and starve your craving brother's mind, who asks to hear my word? what mean ye that ye make them toil; through long and dreary years, and shed like rain upon your soil their blood and bitter tears? what mean ye, that ye dare to rend the tender mother's heart? brothers from sisters, friend from friend, how dare you bid them part? what mean ye when god's bounteous hand, to you so much has given, that from the slave who tills your land, ye keep both earth and heaven? when at the judgment god shall call, where is thy brother? say, what mean ye to the judge of all to answer on that day? hymn for children. air:--"_miss lucy long_." by w.s. abbott. while we are happy here, in joy and peace and love, we'll raise our hearts, with holy fear, to thee, great god, above. god of our infant hours! the music of our tongues, the worship of our nobler powers, to thee, to thee belongs. the little, trembling slave shall feel our sympathy; o god! arise with might to save, and set the captive free. no parent's holy care provides for him repose, but oft the hot and briny tear, in sorrow freely flows. the god of abraham praise; the curse he will remove; the slave shall welcome happy days, with liberty and love. pray without ceasing, pray, ye saints of god most high, that all who hail this glorious day, may have their liberty. liberty glee. tune:--"_the pirate's glee_." march on! march on! we love the liberty flag, that's waving o'er our land; as fearless as the eagle soaring o'er the cloud-capped mountain crag, slavery in terror flies before us; we fling our banner to the blast; it there shall float triumphant o'er us, we will defend it to the last. march on! march on, &c. vote on! vote on, we hail the liberty flag, that leads us on our way; we'll boldly vote, our country saving, and bravely conquer while we may. the world is up--for freedom moving, the thunders' distant roar we hear-- from land to land the free are calling, and slaves with joy and rapture hear. vote on! vote on, &c. march on! march on! tune:--"_the pirate's glee_." march on! march on, ye friends of freedom for all, for truth and right contend; be ever ready at humanity's call, till tyrant's power shall end. the proud slave-holders rule the nation, the people's groans are loud and long; arouse, ye men, in every station, and join to crush the power of wrong.--march on, etc. fight on! fight on, ye brave till victory's won, and justice shall prevail; till all shall feel the rays of liberty's sun, streaming o'er hill and dale. the tyrants know their guilt and tremble, the glowing light of truth they fear; then let them all their hosts assemble, and slavery's dreadful sentence hear. fight on! fight on, &c. roll on! roll on, ye brave, the liberty car, our country's name to save; soon shall our land be known to nations afar, as the home of the free and brave. the voice of freemen loud hath spoken, a brighter day we soon shall see; when slavery's chains shall all be broken, and all the captive millions free. roll on, roll on, &c. index. [transcriber's note: the original order of the entries in this index has been preserved.] page am i not a man and brother? am i not a sister? afric's dream a beacon has been lighted a vision are ye truly free? a tribute to departed worth brothers be brave for the pining slave blind slave boy bereaved father birney and liberty ballot-box be free! o man, be free! break every yoke be kind to each other comfort in affliction clarion of freedom come join the abolitionists comfort for the bondmen come and see the works of god christian mother domestic bliss emancipation song fugitive slave to the christian fourth of july freedom's gathering friend of the friendless gone! gone, sold and gone get off the track heard ye that cry? how long! o, how long! hark! i hear a sound of anguish hail the day! hark! a voice from heaven holy freedom harbinger of liberty hymn for children i would not live alway i am monarch of naught i survey liberty battle song light of truth liberty glee manhood my child is gone march to the battle-field myron holly march on! march on! negro boy sold for a watch o pity the slave mother our pilgrim fathers our countrymen in chains! on to victory our countrymen are dying o charity! oft in the chilly night ode to james g. birney prayer for the slave pilgrim song praise and prayer poor voter's song quadroon maiden remembering god is just rise! freeman rise! rouse up, new england! remember me sleep on, my child song of the coffle gang slave's wrongs stanzas for the times slave boy's wish slave girl mourning her father slave mother and her babe strike for liberty sing me a triumph song song of the free stolen we were the law of love the fugitive the poor little slave the bereaved mother the negro's appeal the strength of tyranny to those i love the bondman the man for me the mercy-seat the pleasant land we love the freed slave the liberty flag the liberty party the last night of slavery the little slave girl the liberty voter's song the liberty ball the trumpet of freedom the slave's lamentation the stranger and his friend that's my country the flying slave the election the ballot the spirit of the pilgrims the ballot-box voice of new england wake sons of the pilgrims what means that sad and dismal look we're coming, we're coming wake, sons of the pilgrims we are come, all come we're for freedom through the land we are all children of one parent wake, ye numbers what mean ye, that ye bruise and bind? we ask not martial glory ye heralds of freedom ye spirits of the free ye sons of freemen yankee girl zaza transcribers note: this escore was produced by linda cantoni and the pg finale team. this is a musical score in midi, pdf, musicxml and finale's mus formats. "you'll git dar in de mornin'!" music by h. t. burleigh. words by f. l. stanton. keep on lookin' fo' de bright, bright skies; keep on hopin' dat de sun'll rise, keep on singin' when de whole world sighs, an' you'll git dar in de mornin'! keep on plowin' when you've miss'd de crops; keep on dancin' when de fiddle stops; keep on faithful till de curtain drops, an' you'll git dar in de mornin'! one hundred fourth symphony, in d-major by franz josef haydn (c) sharon zurflieh & geof pawlicki (ed.) (p) sharon zurflieh & geof pawlicki (ed.) the accompanying files contain the four movements of the symphony as: - .mid - .mid - .mid - .mid beethoven's fifth symphony, in c-minor, opus # by ludwig van beethoven (c) , geof pawlicki (p) , geof pawlicki the accompanying files contain the four movements of the symphony as: - .mid - .mid - .mid - .mid movement*** haydn's emperor quartet op. no. ., nd movement composer: franz joseph haydn ( - ) arranger: rick davis the second movement, arranged for solo guitar. society's child (janis ian) copyright (c) taosongs two (bmi) admin. by bug come to my door, baby face is clean and shining black as night my mama went to answer you know that you looked so fine now i could understand the tears & the shame she called you boy instead of your name when she wouldn't let you inside when she turned and said "but honey, he's not our kind" she says i can't see you any more, baby can't see you any more walk me down to school, baby everybody's acting deaf and blind until they turn and say "why don't you stick to your own kind" my teachers all laugh, their smirking stares cutting deep down in our affairs preachers of equality think they believe it then why won't they just let us be? they say i can't see you any more, baby can't see you any more one of these days i'm gonna stop my listening gonna raise my head up high one of these days i'm gonna raise up my glistening wings and fly but that day will have to wait for a while baby, i'm only society's child when we're older, things may change but for now this is the way they must remain i say i can't see you any more, baby can't see you any more no, i don't want to see you any more baby wit and mirth: or pills to purge melancholy edited by thomas d'urfey in six volumes volume vi folklore library publishers, inc. new york an alphabetical table of the songs contain'd in this book. a pag. _as_ amoret _and_ thyrsis _lay,_ _as unconcern'd and free as air,_ _as i am a sailor,_ _and now, now the duke's march,_ aurelia _now one moment lost,_ _after the pangs of fierce desire,_ _a pox on the fool,_ _a young man lately in our town,_ _all joy to mortals,_ _a pox on the times,_ _a pox on such fools! let the,_ _as cupid many ages past,_ _all christians that have ears to hear,_ _as at noon_ dulcina _rested,_ _a dean and prebendary,_ _a world that's full of fools and mad-men,_ astutus constabularius, amor est pegma, _abroad as i was walking, i'spy'd,_ _a pedlar proud as i heard tell,_ _a young man and a maid,_ _all own the young_ sylvia _is,_ _a swain in despair,_ _as i came down the hey land town,_ _a jolly young_ grocer _of_ london town, _as it befel upon one time,_ _a taylor good lord, in the time of vacation,_ _a comely dame of_ islington, _ah! how happy's he,_ _a little love may prove a pleasure,_ _at the change as i was a walking,_ _all you that must take a leap in the dark,_ alphonzo, _if you sir,_ _a worthy_ london _prentice,_ _at the break of morning light,_ b _belinda's pretty, pretty pleasing form,_ _blush not redder than the morning,_ _banish my_ lydia _these,_ _beauty, like kingdoms not for one,_ _beneath a cool shade_ amaryllis, _boasting fops who court the fair,_ c _come here's a good health,_ cupid _make your virgins tender,_ corinna _i excuse thy face,_ chloe _found love for his_ psyche, _coy_ belinda _may discover,_ corinna _'tis you that i love,_ _come buy my greens and flowers,_ cælia's _bright beauty all others transcend,_ _come from the temple, away to the bed,_ _come all that are dispos'd,_ chloris, _can you,_ cælia _be not too complying,_ _clasp'd in my dear_ melinda's _arms,_ _come_ cælia _come, let's sit and,_ d _do not rumple my top-knot,_ _day was spent and night,_ _dear_ catholick _brother,_ _dear mother i am transported,_ _despairing besides a clear stream,_ e _ere_ phillis _with her looks did kill,_ f _fly, fly ye lazy hours,_ _fye_ amaryllis, _cease to grieve,_ _fairest isle, all isles excelling,_ _fye_ jockey, _never prattle,_ _forgive me_ cloe _if i dare,_ _fortune is blind and beauty unkind,_ _from father_ hopkins, _fickle bliss, fantastick treasure,_ _fill the glass fill, fill,_ _farewel my useless scrip,_ _fates i defie, i defie your advances,_ _farewel_ chloe, _o farewel,_ g _god prosper long our gracious queen,_ _go, go, go, go falsest of thy sex,_ _good morrow gossip_ joan, h _how long, how long shall i pine,_ _hang this whining way of wooing,_ _here's the summer sprightly, gay,_ _how happy's the husband,_ _having spent all my coin,_ _how happy, how happy is she,_ _hang the presbyters gill,_ _honest shepherd, since,_ _how happy's that husband who after,_ _how is the world transform'd,_ _hub ub, ub, boo;_ _had i but love,_ _how happy are we,_ _hear_ chloe _hear,_ _how happy's he who weds a wife,_ _how charming_ phillis _is, how fair,_ i _if i hear_ orinda _swear,_ _just coming from sea,_ _if ever you mean to be kind,_ _i know her false,_ _i am come to lock all fast,_ _in vain_ clemene _you bestow,_ _if wine be a cordial,_ _i fain wou'd find a passing,_ _if i should go seek the,_ _i seek no more to shady coverts,_ _i try'd in parks and plays,_ _in a flowry myrtle _grove, _i am a jolly toper,_ _i'll tell you all, both great,_ _i am a cunning constable,_ _i courted and writ,_ _i'll tell thee_ dick _where i have,_ _i am a poor shepherd undone,_ _i love to madness, rave t' enjoy,_ _i'll press, i'll bless thee charming,_ _i'm vext to think that_ damon, _i have a tenement to let,_ k _ken you, who comes here,_ l _let not love, let not love on me,_ liberia's _all my thought,_ _let_ mary _live long,_ lerinda _complaineth that,_ _lay by your pleading,_ _love's pow'r in my heart,_ _let's wet the whistle of the,_ _let's sing as one may say,_ lucinda _has the de'el and all,_ _love is a bauble,_ lais _when you,_ lorenzo _you amuse the town,_ _love's passion never knew,_ _let those youths who freedom_ lavia _would, but dare not venture,_ _love, the sweets of love,_ m marlborough's _a brave commander,_ _my dear_ corinna _give me leave,_ _may her blest example chace,_ _my dear and only love,_ _my nose is the largest of all,_ _my nose is the flattest of all,_ _mortals learn your lives to,_ mirtillo, _whilst you patch,_ _my friend thy beauty,_ _must love, that tyrant of the,_ _my_ theodora _can those eyes,_ n _now dry up thy tears,_ _no, no, poor suffering heart,_ _new pyramid's raise,_ _never sigh, but think of kissing,_ _now, now the queen's health,_ _noble king_ lud, _now i'm resolv'd to love no more,_ _not your eyes_ melania _move me,_ _now, now the night's come,_ _now_ jockey _and_ moggy _are ready,_ o _oh! my panting, panting heart,_ _over the mountains,_ _oh how happy's he, who from,_ _oh! the mighty pow'r of love,_ _oh the charming month of_ may, _oh_ roger _i've been to see_ eugene, _of all the handsome ladies,_ p phillis _lay aside your thinking,_ _pish fye, you're rude sir,_ phillis, _i can ne'er forgive it,_ _poor_ sawney _had marry'd a wife,_ r _room for gentlemen,_ _retire old miser,_ _richest gift of lavish nature,_ s _she met with a country-man,_ _stand, clear, my masters,_ _sometimes i am a tapster new,_ _she went apparell'd neat and fine,_ _say cruel_ amoret, _how long,_ _such command o'er my fate,_ _sit you merry gallants,_ _since_ phillis _swears inconstancy,_ _some in the town go betimes,_ _suppose a man does all he can,_ sors sine visu, _see bleeding at your feet,_ _since_ tom's _in the chair, and every one here,_ _such a happy, happy, life,_ t _to meet her_ mars _the queen of love,_ _thus_ damon _knock'd at _cælia's _door,_ _the world is a bubble and full of,_ _through the cold shady woods,_ _the gordian knot,_ _there dwelt a widow in this town,_ _there was an old man,_ _there is a thing which in the light,_ _there's not a swain,_ _tormenting beauty leave my breast,_ _tell me why so long,_ _'tis a foolish mistake,_ _tell me, tell me, charming,_ _tho' thou'rt ugly and old,_ _tho' you make no return,_ _the king is gone to_ oxon _town,_ _tho' i love and she knows it,_ _there was three travellers,_ troy _had a breed of brave,_ _there's none so pretty,_ _the ordinance a-board,_ _that scornful_ sylvia's _chains,_ tom _tinker's my true love,_ _to you fair ladies now at land,_ _then come kind_ damon _come,_ _the night is come that will,_ _there's a new set of rakes,_ _tho' begging is an honest trade,_ _the rosey morn lukes blith and gay,_ _the restauration now's the word,_ u _underneath the castle wall,_ _unguarded lies the wishing maid,_ vobis magnis parvis dicam, w _whilst_ phillis _is drinking,_ _war, war and battle now no more,_ _what shall i do, i am undone,_ _when wit and beauty,_ _when_ sylvia _was kind,_ _what, love a crime,_ _when i have often heard young maids,_ _what state of life can be,_ _when_ jockey _first i saw,_ _when_ dido _was a_ carthage _queen,_ _we merry wives of_ windsor, _wo'as me poor lass! what mun,_ _when on her eyes,_ _with sighing and wishing,_ _what sayest thou,_ _what shall i do, i've lost my heart,_ _when i was in the low country,_ _walk up to virtue strait,_ _when first i lay'd siege to my_ chloris, _why alas do you now leave me,_ _when beauty such as yours,_ _when crafty fowlers would,_ _who can_ dorinda's _beauty view,_ _when embracing my friends,_ _why will_ clemene _when i gaze,_ y _ye commons and peers,_ _you guess by my wither'd face,_ _you friends to reformation,_ _young_ strephon _and_ phillis, _young_ strephon _he has woo'd_ _you ladies draw near,_ _you tell me_ dick _you've lately,_ _your melancholy's all a folly,_ z _z--ds madam return me my heart,_ pills to purge melancholy. vol. vi. _a_ ballad _on the battle of_ audenard. _set by mr._ leveridge. [music] ye commons and peers, pray lend me your ears, i'll sing you a song if i can; how _lewis le grand_, was put to a stand, by the arms of our gracious queen ann. how his army so great, had a total defeat, not far from the river of _dender_; where his grand-children twain, for fear of being slain, gallop'd off with the popish pretender. to a steeple on high, the battle to spy, up mounted these clever young men; and when from the spire they saw so much fire, they cleverly came down again. then a horse-back they got, all upon the same spot, by advice of their cousin _vendosme_; o lord! cry'd out he unto young _burgundy_, wou'd your brother and you were at home. just so did he say when without more delay, away the young gentry fled; whose heels for that work were much lighter than cork, but their hearts were more heavy than lead. not so did behave the young _hannover_ brave in this bloody field i assure ye; when his war-horse was shot, yet he matter'd it not, but charg'd still on foot like a fury. when death flew about aloud he call'd out, ho! you chevalier of st. george; if you'll never stand by sea nor by land, pretender, that title you forge. thus boldly he stood, as became that high blood, which runs in his veins so blue; this gallant young man being kin to queen ann, fought as were she a man, she wou'd do. what a racket was here, (i think 'twas last year) for a little ill fortune in _spain_; when by letting 'em win, we have drawn the putts in to lose all they are worth this campaign. tho' _bruges_ and _ghent_, to the monsieur we lent, with interest he soon shall repay 'em; while _paris_ may sing, with her sorrowful king _de profundis_, instead of _te deum_. from their dream of success, they'll awaken we guess at the sound of great _marlborough's_ drums; they may think if they will of _almanza_ still, but 'tis _blenheim_ wherever he comes. o _lewis_ perplex'd, what general's next? thou hast hitherto chang'd 'em in vain; he has beat 'em all round, if no new ones are found, he shall beat the old over again. we'll let _tallard_ out if he'll take t'other bout; and much he's improv'd let me tell ye, with _nottingham_ ale, at every meal, and good pudding and beef in his belly. as losers at play, their dice throw away, while the winner he still wins on; let who will command, thou hadst better disband, for old bully thy doctors are gone. a happy memorable ballad, _on the fight near_ audenard, _between the duke of_ marlborough, _of_ great-britain; _and the duke of_ vendosme, _of_ france. _as also the strange and wonderful manner how the princes of the blood royal of_ france, _were found in a wood. in allusion to the_ unhappy memorable song _commonly call'd_ chevy-chace. [music] god prosper long our gracious queen, our lives and safeties all: a woful fight of late their did near _audenard_ befal. to drive the _french_ with sword and gun, brave _marlborough_ took his way; ah! woe the time that _france_ beheld the fighting of that day. the valiant duke to heaven had swore, _vendosme_ shou'd pay full dear, for _ghent_ and _bruges_, e'er his fame should reach his master's ear. and now with eighty thousand bold, and chosen men of might; he with the _french_ began to wage a sharp and bloody fight. the gallant _britains_ swiftly ran, the _french_ away to chase; on _wednesday_ they began to fight, when day-light did decrease. and long before high-night, they had ten thousand _frenchmen_ slain; and all the rivers crimson flow'd, as they were dy'd in grain. the _britains_ thro' the woods pursu'd, the nimble _french_ to take; and with their cries the hills and dales, and every tree did shake. the duke then to the wood did come, in hopes _vendosme_ to meet; when lo! the prince of _carignan_ fell at his grace's feet. oh! gentle duke forbear, forbear, into that wood to shoot; if ever pity mov'd your grace, but turn your eyes and look: see where the royal line of _france_, great _lewis's_ heirs do lie; and sure a sight more pitious was ne'er seen by mortal eye. what heart of flint but must relent, like wax before the sun: to see their glory at an end, e'er yet it was begun. whenas our general found your grace, wou'd needs begin to fight: as thinking it wou'd please the boys, to see so fine a sight. he straightway sent them to the top of yonder church's spire; where they might see, and yet be safe from swords and guns, and fire. but first he took them by the hand, and kiss'd them e'er they went; whilst tears stood in their little eyes, as if they knew th' event. then said, he would with speed return, soon as the fight was done; but when he saw his men give ground, away he basely run, and left these children all alone, as babes wanting relief; and long they wandred up and down, no hopes to chear their grief. thus hand in hand they walk'd, 'till at last this wood they spy'd; and when they saw the night grow dark, they here lay down and cry'd. at this the duke was inly mov'd, his breast soft pity beat; and so he straightway ordered his men for to retreat. and now, but that my pen is blunt, i might with ease relate; how fifteen thousand _french_ were took, besides what found their fate. nor should the prince of _hannover_ in silence be forgot; who like a lyon fought on foot, after his horse was shot. and what strange chance likewise befel, unto these children dear: but that your patience is too much already tir'd, i fear. and so god bless the queen and duke, and send a lasting peace: that wars and foul debate henceforth in all the world may cease. _the duke of_ marlborough's _health. set by mr._ r. cox. [music] come, here's a good health, the duke i do mean, that bravely fought, that bravely fought for his nation and queen, may his fate still be, that conquer shall he till the nation with peace it be crown'd; come lads never think, but his health let's drink, and sing his great praise, and sing his great praise whilst bumpers pass round. _the duke of_ marlborough's _health._ [music] _marlborough's_ a brave commander, he conducts us into the field; as bold as _alexander_, he'll dye before he'll yield: sound the trumpet sound, boys, let each man stand his ground, boys; ne'er let us flinch, nor give back an inch, and so let his health go round, boys. _a_ song. _set by mr._ john eccles, _and sung by mr._ gouge, _in the farce call'd_, women will have their wills. [music] _belinda's_ pretty, pretty, pleasing form, does my happy, happy, happy, happy fancy charm: her prittle-prattle, tittle-tattle's all engaging, most obliging; whilst i'm pressing, clasping, kissing, oh! oh! how she does my soul alarm: there is such magick in her eyes, such magick in her eyes, in her eyes, does my wond'ring heart surprise: her prinking, nimping, twinking, pinking, whilst i'm courting, for transporting, how like an angel, she panting lies, she panting lies. _a_ song _on a ladies drinking._ [music] whilst _phillis_ is drinking, love and wine in alliance, with forces united, bids resistless defiance; each touch of her lip, makes wine sparkle higher, and her eyes by her drinking, redouble the fire: her cheeks grow the brighter, recruiting their colour, as flowers by sprinkling revive with fresh odour; each dart dipt in wine, love wounds beyond curing, and the liquor like oil makes the flame more enduring. _the first_ song, _sung by mr._ prince, _in the_ maid in the mill. [music] how long, how long shall i pine for love? how long shall i sue in vain? how long, how long like the turtle dove, must i heavily thus complain? shall the sails of my love stand still, shall the grist of my hopes be unground? oh fye, oh fye, oh fye, oh fye let the mill, let the mill go round, let the mill, let the mill go round. _a_ song _sung at_ holmse's _booth in_ bartholomew fair, _set by mr._ john barrett. [music] war, war and battle now no more, shall your thun'dring cannons roar; no more, no more of war complain, peace begins, peace begins her _halcyon_ reign: for now the tow'ring bird of _jove_, stoops, stoops to the gentle billing _dove_. _a_ song _set by mr._ daniel purcell, _and sung at the_ theatre _royal in_ drury-lane. [music] _cupid_ make your virgins tender, make 'em easy to be won; let 'em presently surrender, when the treaty's once begun: such as like a tedious wooing, let 'em cruel damsels find: but let such as wou'd, as wou'd be doing, prithee, prithee, prithee _cupid_ make 'em kind, prithee, prithee _cupid_ make 'em kind. _a_ scotch song, _sung by mrs._ willis _at the_ theatre. [music] ken you, who comes here, the laird of aw the clan; whom ise love but fear, because a muckle man: but what if he's great, he descends from his state, and receive him, receive him as you can. come my bonny blith lads, shew your best lukes and plads, our laird is here; whom we shou'd love, and who shou'd approve, our respect as well as fear, for the laird is here whom we love and fear. _a_ song _in the loves of_ mars _and_ venus _set by mr._ j. eccles, _sung by mrs._ hudson. [music] to meet her _mars_ the queen of love, comes here adorn'd with all her charms; the warriour best the fair can move, and crowns his toils in beauty's arms: the warriour best the fair can move, and crowns his toils in beauty's arms. _a_ song _in the comedy call'd love betray'd, sung by mrs._ bracegirdle, _set by mr._ john eccles. [music] if i hear _orinda_ swear, she cures my jealous smart; if i hear _orinda_ swear, she cures my jealous smart: the treachery becomes the fair, and doubly fires my heart; the treachery becomes the fair, and doubly fires my heart. beauty's strength and treasure, in falshood still remain; she gives the greatest pleasure, that gives the greatest pain, that gives the greatest pain: she gives the greatest pleasure, she gives the greatest pleasure, that gives the greatest pain: she gives the greatest pleasure, she gives the greatest pleasure, that gives the greatest pain, that gives the greatest pain. _a_ song _in the_ funeral, _sung by mrs._ harris, _set by mr._ daniel purcel. [music] let not love, let not love on me, on me bestow, soft distress, soft distress and tender woe; i know none, no, no, no, none but substantial blisses, eager glances, eager glances, solid kisses: i know not what the lover feign, of finer pleasure mixt with pain: then prithee, prithee give me gentle boy, none of thy grief, but all, all, all, all, but all, all, all, all, all, all the joy; but all, all, all, all, all, all the joy. prithee give me, prithee give me gentle boy, none of thy grief, but all, all, all, all, but all, all, all, all, all, all the joy, but all, all, all, all, all, all the joy. _a_ song _in the loves of_ mars _and_ venus, _set by mr._ j. eccles, _sung by mr._ morgan. [music] fly, fly ye lazy hours, hast, bring him here, swift, swift as my fond wishes are; when we love, and love to rage, ev'ry moment seems an age: when we love, and love to rage, ev'ry moment seems an age. _a_ scotch song, _sung by mrs._ ballden. [music] oh! my panting, panting heart, why so young, and why so sad? why does pleasure seem a smart, or i wretched while i'm glad? oh! lovers goddess, who wert form'd, from cold and icy, icy seas; instruct me why i am thus warm'd! and darts at once can wound and please. _a_ song _set by mr._ john eccles, _sung by mrs._ hodgson. [music] fye _amarillis_, cease to grieve, fye, fye, fye, fye cease, cease to grieve, fye, fye, fye, fye, cease, cease to grieve, for him thou never canst retrieve; wilt thou sigh for one that flies thee, wilt thou sigh for one that flies thee, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, scorn the wretch, scorn the wretch, that love denies thee, scorn the wretch, scorn the wretch, that love, that love denies thee. call pride to thy aid, and be not afraid, of meeting a swain that is kind; as handsome as he, perhaps he may be, at least, at least a more generous mind: as handsome as he, perhaps he may be, at least a more generous mind, at least a more generous mind. _a_ song _in the comedy call'd_, the old batchelour, _set by mr._ henry purcell. [music] as _amoret_ and _thyrsis_ lay, as _amoret_ and _thyrsis_ lay; melting, melting, melting, melting the hours in gentle play, joyning, joyning, joyning faces, mingling kisses, mingling kisses, mingling kisses, and exchanging harmless blisses: he trembling cry'd with eager, eager hast, let me, let me, let me feed, oh! oh! let me, let me, let me, let me feed, oh! oh! oh! oh! let me, let me, let me, let me feed as well as tast, i dye, dye, dye, i dye, dye, i dye, i dye, if i'm not wholly blest. the fearful nymph reply'd forbear, i cannot, dare not, must not hear; dearest _thyrsis_ do not move me, do not, do not, if you love me: o let me still, the shepherd said, but while she fond resistance made, the hasty joy in struggling fled. vex'd at the pleasure she had miss'd, she frown'd and blush'd, and sigh'd and kiss'd, and seem'd to moan, in sullen cooing, the sad miscarriage of their wooeing: but vain alass! were all her charms, for _thyrsis_ deaf to love's alarms, baffled and fenceless, tir'd her arms. _a_ song. [music] she met with a country-man, in the middle of all the green; and _peggy_ was his delight, and good sport was to be seen. but ever she cry'd brave _roger_, i'll drink a whole glass to thee; but as for _john_ of the green, i care not a pin for him. bulls and bears, and lyons, and dragons, and o brave _roger_ a _cauverly_; piggins and wiggins, pints and flaggons, o brave, _&c._ he took her by the middle, and taught her by the flute; well done brave _roger_ quoth she, thou hast not left thy old wont. but ever she cry'd, _&c._ he clap'd her upon the buttock, and forth she let a fart; my belly quoth she is eased by thee, and i thank thee _roger_ for't. _love's conquest._ [music] as unconcern'd and free as air, i did retain my liberty; laugh'd at the fetters of the fair, and scorn'd a beauties slave to be: 'till your bright eyes surpriz'd my heart, and first inform'd me how to love; then pleasure did invade each part, yet to conceal my flame i strove. as _indians_ at a distance pay, their awful reverence to the sun: and dare not 'till he'll bless the day, seem to have any thing begun: thus i rest, 'till your smiles invite, my looks and thoughts i do constrain; and tremble to express delight, unless you please to ease my pain. _a_ song _in the comedy call'd, the_ wife's excuse. _by_ h. p. [music] _corinna_ i excuse thy face, those erring lines, which nature drew; when i reflect that ev'ry grace, thy mind adorns, is just and true: but oh! thy wit what god hast sent, surprising, airy, unconfin'd; some wonder sure _apollo_ meant, and shot himself into thy mind. _the_ sailors song _in the subscription_ musick, _set by mr._ weldon, _sung by mr._ dogget. [music] just coming from sea, our spouses and we, we punch it, we punch it, we punch it, we punch it, we punch it a board with couragio; we sing laugh and cling, and in hammocks we swing, and hey, hey, hey, hey, hey my brave boys bonviago: we sing laugh and cling, and in hammocks we swing, we sing laugh and cling, and in hammocks we swing, and hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, my brave boys bonviago. _the serenading_ song _in the_ constant couple, _or a trip to the_ jubilee; _written by mr._ g. farquhar, _set by mr._ d. purcell, _sung by mr._ freeman. [music] thus _damon_ knock'd at _cælia's_ door, thus _damon_ knock'd at _cælia's_ door, he sigh'd and begg'd, and wept and swore, the sign was so, she answer'd no, the sign was so, she answer'd no, no, no, no. again he sigh'd, again he pray'd, no _damon_ no, no, no, no, no, i am afraid; consider _damon_ i'm a maid, consider _damon_ no, no, no, no, no, no, no, i'm a maid. at last his sighs and tears made way, she rose and softly turn'd the key; come in said she, but do not, do not stay, i may conclude, you will be rude; but if you are you may: i may conclude, you will be rude, but if you are you may. _a 'squire's choice; or the coy lady's beauty by him admir'd._ [music] the world is a bubble and full of decoys, her glittering pleasures are flattering toys; the which in themselves no true happiness brings, rich rubies, nay diamonds, chains, jewels and rings: they are but as dross, and in time will decay, so will virgin beauty, so will virgin beauty, tho' never so gay. then boast not young _phillis_ because thou art fair, soft roses and lillies more beautiful are, than ever thou wast, when they in their prime, and yet do they fade in a very short time: all temporal glories in time will decay, so will virgin beauty, so will virgin beauty, tho' never so gay. since all things are changing and nothing will last, since years, months, and minutes thy beauty will blast, like flowers that fade in the fall of the leaf, afford me thy favour and pity my grief: e'er thy youth and beauty does clearly depart, for thou art my jewel, for thou art my jewel, the joy of my heart. i value not riches, for riches i have, i value not honour, no honour i crave; but what thou art able to bless me withal, and if by thy frowns to despair i should fall: then farewel those joys which so long i have sought, to languish in sorrow, to languish in sorrow, alass! i am brought. i come not to flatter, as many have done, afford me a smile, or my dear i shall run distracted, as being disturbed in mind, then now, now, or never be loving and kind: this day thou canst cherish my sorrowful state, to morrow sweet jewel, to morrow sweet jewel, it may be too late. you know that young women has rail'd against men, and counted them false and base flatterers, when we find that your sexs are as cruel to us, or else you would never have tortur'd me thus: as now you have done by your darts of disdain, you know that i love you, you know that i love you, yet all is in vain. _the damsels answer, to the same tune._ now dry up thy tears, and no longer exclaim, against thy fair beautiful _phillis_ by name; who never as yet was acquainted with love, yet here i declare by the powers above: i cannot be cruel to one that is true, wherefore bid thy sorrows, wherefore bid thy sorrows for ever adieu. with all the affections that words can express, i freely surrender, and can do no less; when as i consider in e'ery degree, how loyal and faithful thou hast been to me, i cannot be cruel to one that is true, and so bid thy sorrows, and so bid thy sorrows for ever adieu. _the jolly sailor's resolution._ [music] as i am a sailor, 'tis very well known, and i've never as yet had a wife of my own; but now i am resolved to marry if i can, to show my self a jolly, jolly brisk young man, man, man, to show my self a jolly, jolly brisk young man. abroad i have been, and since home i am come, my wages i have took, 'tis a delicate sum; and now mistress hostess begins to flatter me, but i have not forgot her former cruelty, ty, ty, but i have not forgot her former cruelty. near _lymehouse_ she liv'd, where i formerly us'd, i'll show you in brief how i once was abus'd, after in her house i had quite consumed my store, but kick me if i ever, ever feast her more, more, more, but kick me if i ever, ever feast her more. i came to her once with abundance of gold, and as she that beautiful sight did behold; she said with a kiss thou art welcome _john_ to me, for i have shed a thousand, thousand tears for thee, thee, thee, for i have shed a thousand, thousand tears for thee. her flattering words i was apt to believe, and then at my hands she did freely receive; a ring which she said she would keep for _johnny's_ sake, she wept for joy as if her very heart wou'd break: break, break, she wept for joy as if her very heart wou'd break. we feasted on dainties and drank of the best, thought i with my friends i am happily blest; for punch, beer and brandy they night and day did call, and i was honest _johnny_, _johnny_ pay for all: all, all, and i was honest _johnny_, _johnny_ pay for all. they ply'd me so warm, that in troth i may say, that i scarce in a month knew the night from the day; my hostess i kiss'd, tho' her husband he was by, for while my gold and silver lasted, who but i: i, i, for while my gold and silver lasted, who but i. they said i should marry their dear daughter _kate_, and in token of love i presented her strait: with a chain of gold, and a rich costly head, thus _johnny_, _johnny_, _johnny_ by the nose was lead: lead, lead, thus _johnny_, _johnny_, _johnny_ by the nose was lead. this life i did lead for a month and a day, and then all my glory begun to decay: my money was gone, i quite consum'd my store, my hostess told me in a word, she would not score, score, score, my hostess told me in a word, she would not score. she frown'd like a fury, and _kate_ was coy, a kiss or a smile i no more must enjoy, nay, if that i call'd but for a mug of beer, my hostess she was very deaf and could not hear, hear, hear, my hostess she was very deaf and could not hear. but that which concern'd me more than the rest, my money it was gone, and she'd needs have me prest; aboard of the fleet, then i in a passion flew, and ever since i do abhor the canting crew, crew, crew, and ever since i do abhor the canting crew. now having replenish'd my stock once again, my hostess and daughter i vow to refrain their company quite, and betake my self to a wife, with whom i hope to live a sober life, life, life, with whom i hope to live a sober life. then in came a damsel as fresh as a rose, he gave her a kiss, and began for to close, in courting, and said, canst love an honest tar, who for this six or seven years has travell'd far, far, far, who for this six or seven years has travell'd far. his offer was noble, his guineas was good, and therefore the innocent maid never stood to make a denial, but granted his request, and now she's with a jolly sailor, sailor blest. blest, blest, and now she's with a jolly sailor, sailor blest. cupid's _courtesie._ [music] through the cold shady woods, as i was ranging, i heard the pretty birds, notes sweetly changing: down by the meadow's side, there runs a river a little boy i spy'd with bow and quiver. little boy tell me why thou art here diving? art thou some run-away; and hast no abiding? i am no run-away, _venus_ my mother, she gave me leave to play, when i came hither. little boy go with me, and be my servant, i will take care to see for thy preferment: if i with thee should go, _venus_ would chide me, and take away my bow, and never abide me. little boy let me know, what's thy name termed, that thou dost wear a bow, and go so arm'd: you may perceive the same, with often changing; _cupid_ it is my name, i live by ranging. if _cupid_ be thy name, that shoot at rovers; i have heard of thy fame, by wounded lovers: should any languish that are set on fire; by such a naked brat, i much admire. if thou dost but the least, at my laws grumble; i'll pierce thy stubborn breast, and make thee humble, if i with golden dart, wound thee but surely, there's no physitians art, that e're can cure thee. little boy with thy bow, why dost thou threaten; it is not long ago since thou wast beaten: thy wanton mother, fair _venus_ will chide thee; when all thy arrows are gone, thou may'st go hide thee. of powerful shafts you see, i am well stored; which makes my deity, so much adored: with one poor arrow now, i'll make thee shiver; and bend unto my bow, and fear my quiver. dear little _cupid_ be, courteous and kindly; i know thou can'st not see, but shootest blindly: altho' thou call'st me blind, surely i'll hit thee; that thou shalt quickly find, i'll not forget thee. then little _cupid_ caught, his bow so nimble; and shot a fatal shaft, which made him tremble: go tell thy mistress dear, thou canst discover; what all the passions are, of a dying lover. and now this gallant heart sorely lies bleeding; he felt the greatest smart, from love proceeding; he did her help implore, whom he affected, but found that more and more, him she rejected. for _cupid_ with his craft, quickly had chosen, and with a leaden shaft, her heart had frozen: which caus'd this lover more, daily to languish; and _cupid's_ aid implore, to heal this anguish. he humble pardon crav'd for his offence past; and vow'd himself a slave, and to love stedfast; his prayers so ardent were, whilst his heart panted, that _cupid_ lent an ear, and his suit granted. for by his present plaint, he was regarded; and his adored saint, his love rewarded: and now they live in joy, sweetly embracing, and left the little boy, in the woods chasing. _the duke of_ gloucester's _march, set by dr._ blow. [music] and now, now the duke's march, let the haut-boys play; and his troops in the close, shall huzza, huzza, huzza: and now, now the duke's march, let the haut-boys play; and his troops in the close, shall huzza, huzza, huzza. _a_ song _sung at_ richmond _new wells, the words by_ m. s. _set by mr._ morgan. [music] _aurelia_ now one moment lost, a thousand sighs may after cost; desires may oft return in vain, but youth will ne'er return again: desires may oft return in vain, but youth will ne'er return again. the fragrant sweets which do adorn, the glowing blushes of the morn; by noon are vanish'd all away, then let _aurelia_ live to day. _a_ song _sung by mrs._ prince _in the_ agreeable disappointment. _sett by mr._ john eccles. [music] _chloe_ found love for his _psyche_ in tears, she play'd with his dart, and smil'd at his fears, fears; 'till feeling at length the poison it keeps, _cupid_ he smiles, and _chloe_ she weeps: 'till feeling at length the poison it keeps, _cupid_ he smiles, and _chloe_ she weeps. _cupid_ he smiles, and _chloe_ she weeps. _a_ song. _set by mr._ john barrett. [music] _liberia's_ all my thought and dream, she's all, all, all, she's all, all, all, my pleasure and my pain: _liberia's_ all that i esteem, and all i fear is her disdain, her wit, her humour and her face, please beyond all i felt before: oh! why can't i admire her less, or dear _liberia_, or dear _liberia_ love me more! like stars all other female charms, ne'er touch my heart, but feast my eyes; for she's the only sun that warms, with her alone i'd live and dye: immortal pow'rs whose work divine, inspires my soul with so much love; grant your _liberia_ may be mine, and then, then, then, then, and then, then i share your joys above. _coy_ belinda, _and false_ amindor. [music] coy _belinda_ may discover, love is nothing but a name; 'tis not beauty warms the lover, when he tells her of his flame: but she keeps a greater treasure, binds and bonds inflame his heart; charms that flow with tides of pleasure, more obey'd than _cupid's_ dart. false _amintor_ leave dissembling, tell her plainly you are poor; hence are all your sighs and tremblings, when you talk of your amour: tho' you sigh, and tho' you languish, 'till she gives herself away; then you soon forget your anguish, and _belinda_ must obey. _an amorous address to the charming_ corinna. [music] _corinna_ 'tis you that i love, and love with a passion, a passion so great; that death a less torment would prove, than either your frown or your hate: so soft and prevailing your charms, in vain i should strive to retreat; oh! then let me live in your arms, or dye in despair at your feet. in vain i may pray to love's powers, to ease me and pity my pain; since the heart that i sue for is yours, who all other powers disdain: like a _goddess_ you absolute reign, you alone 'tis can save or kill; to whom else then should i complain, since my fate must depend on your will. _the coy lass dress'd up in her best commode and top-knot._ [music] do not rumple my top-knot, i'll not be kiss'd to day; i'll not be hawl'd and pull'd about, thus on a holy-day: then if your rudeness you don't leave, no more is to be said; see this long pin upon my sleeve, i'll run up to the head: and if you rumple my head gear, i'll give you a good flurt on the ear. come upon a worky-day, when i have my old cloaths on; i shall not be so nice nor coy, nor stand so much upon: then hawl and pull, and do your best, yet i shall gentle be: kiss hand, and mouth, and feel my breast, and tickle to my knee: i won't be put out of my rode, you shall not rumple my commode. _a_ song _in the dramatick_ opera _of_ king arthur. _written by mr._ dryden. [music] fairest isle, all isles excelling, seat of pleasures, and of love; _venus_ here, will chuse her dwelling, and forsake her _cyprian grove_. _cupid_ from his fav'rite nation, care and envy will remove; jealousy that poisons passion, and despair that dies for love. gentle murmurs sweet complaining, sighs that blow the fire of love; soft repulses, kind disdaining, shall be all the pains you prove. every swain shall pay his duty, grateful every nymph shall prove; and as these excel in beauty, those shall be renown'd for love. _a_ song _in the comedy call'd the_ (wives excuse: _or_, cuckolds make themselves.) _sung by mrs._ butler. [music] hang this whining way of wooing, loving was design'd a sport; sighing, talking without doing, makes a sily idol court: don't believe that words can move her, if she be not well inclin'd; she herself must be the lover, to perswade her to be kind: if at last she grants the favour, and consents to be undone; never think your passion gave her, to your wishes, but her own. _a_ song _in the opera call'd the_ (fairy queen,) _sung by mr._ pate. [music] here's the summer sprightly, gay, smiling, wanton, fresh and fair: adorn'd with all the flowers of _may_, whose various sweets perfume the air, adorn'd with all the flowers of _may_, whose various sweets perfume the air. _a_ dog _of_ war: _or, the travels of _drunkard, _the famous curr of the round _woolstaple _in_ westminster. _his services in the_ netherlands, _and lately in _france, _with his return home._ _the_ argument. _an honest, well-knowing, and well-known souldier, (whose name for some reasons i conceal) dwelt lately in _westminster, _in the round woolstaple, he was a man only for action, but such actions as loyalty did always justifie, either for his prince, country, or their dear and near friends or allies, in such noble designs he would and did often with courage and good approvement employ himself in the low-countries, having always with him a little black dog, whom he called_ drunkard; _which curr would (by no means) ever forsake or leave him. but lately in these french wars, the dog being in the isle of_ rhea, _where his master (valiantly fighting) was unfortunately slain, whose death was griev'd for by as many as knew him; and as the corps lay dead, the poor loving masterless dog would not forsake it, until an english souldier pull'd off his masters coat, whom the dog followed to a boat, by which means he came back to_ westminster, _where he now remains. upon whose fidelity, (for the love i owed his deceased master) i have writ these following lines, to express my addiction to the proverb,_ love me and love my dog. to the reader. _reader if you expect_ _from hence_, _an overplus of wit_ _or sence_, _i deal with no such_ _traffique:_ heroicks _and_ iambicks _i_, _my buskinde muse hath_ _laid them by_, _pray be content with_ saphicke. drunkard _the dog my_ _patron is_, _and he doth love me_ _well for this_, _whose love i take for_ _guerdon_; _and he's a dog of_ mars _his train_ _who hath seen men and_ _horses slain_, _the like was never_ _heard on._ drunkard _or the faithful dog of war._ [music] stand clear, my masters 'ware your shins, for now to bark my muse begins, tis of a dog, i write now: yet let me tell you for excuse, that muse or dog, or dog or muse, have no intent to bite now. in doggrel rhimes my lines are writ, as for a dog i thought it fit, and fitting best his carkass. had i been silent as a stoick, or had i writ in verse heroick, then had i been a stark ass. old _homer_ wrote of frogs and mice, and _rabblaies_ wrote of nits and lice, and _virgil_ of a flye: one wrote the treatise of the fox, another prais'd the frenchman's pox, whose praise was but a lye. great _alexander_ had a horse, a famous beast of mighty force yecleap'd _buce-_ _phalus_: he was a stout and sturdy steed, and of an exc'lent race and breed, but that concerns not us. i list not write the baby praise of apes, or owls, or popingeys, or of the cat _grammalkin:_ but of a true and trusty dog, who well could fawn, but never cog, his praise my pen must walk in. and _drunkard_ he is falsely nam'd, for which that vice he ne'er was blam'd, for he loves not god _bacchus_: the kitchin he esteems more dear, than cellars full of wine or beer, which oftentimes doth wreck us. he is no mastiff, huge of lim, or water-spaniel, that can swim, nor blood-hound nor no setter: no bob-tail tyke, or trundle-tayl, nor can he partridge spring or quail, but yet he is much better. no dainty ladies fisting-hound, that lives upon our _britain_ ground, nor mungrel cur or shogh: should litters or whole kennels dare, with honest _drunkard_ to compare, my pen writes, _marry fough_. the otter-hound, the fox-hound, nor the swift foot grey-hound car'd he for, nor _cerberus_ hell's bandogg; his service proves them curs and tikes, and his renown a terror strikes, in water-dog and land-dog. 'gainst brave _buquoy_ or stout _dampiere_, he durst have bark'd without fear, or 'gainst the hot count _tilly_: at _bergen_ leaguer and _bredha_, against the noble _spinola_, he shew'd himself not silly. he serv'd his master at commands, in the most warlike _netherlands_, in _holland_, _zeeland_, _brabant_: he to him still was true and just, and if his fare were but a crust, he patiently would knab on't. he durst t have stood stern _ajax_ frown, when wise _ulysses_ talk'd him down in grave _diebus_ _illis_; when he by cunning prating won the armour from fierce tellamon, that 'longed to _achilles_. brave _drunkard_, oft on god's dear ground, took such poor lodging as he found, in town, field, camp or cottage; his bed but cold, his dyet thin, he oft in that poor case was in, to want both meat and pottage. two rows of teeth for arms he bore, which in his mouth he always wore, which serv'd to fight and feed too: his grumbling for his drum did pass, and barking (lowd) his ordnance was, which help'd in time of need too. his tail his ensign he did make, which he would oft display and shake, fast in his poop uprear'd: his powder hot, but somewhat dank, his shot in (scent) most dangerous rank, which sometimes made him feared. thus hath he long serv'd near and far, well known to be a _dog of war_, though he ne'er shot with musket: yet cannons roar or culverings, that whizzing through the welkin sings, he slighted as a pus-cat. for guns, nor drums, nor trumpets clang. nor hunger, cold, nor many a pang, could make him leave his master: in joy, and in adversity, in plenty, and in poverty, he often was a taster. thus serv'd he on the _belgia_ coast, yet ne'er was heard to brag or boast, of services done by him: he is no pharisee to blow, a trumpet, his good deeds to show, 'tis pity to bely him. at last he home return'd in peace, till wars, and jars, and scars increase 'twixt us, and _france_, in malice: away went he and crost the sea, with's master, to the isle of _rhea_, a good way beyond _callice_. he was so true, so good, so kind, he scorn'd to stay at home behind, and leave his master frustrate; for which could i like _ovid_ write, or else like _virgil_ could indite, i would his praise illustrate. i wish my hands could never stir, but i do love a thankful curr, more than a man ingrateful: and this poor dog's fidelity, may make a thankless knave descry, how much that vice is hateful. for why, of all the faults of men, which they have got from hell's black den, ingratitude the worst is: for treasons, murders, incests, rapes, nor any sin in any shapes, so bad, nor so accurst is. i hope i shall no anger gain, if i do write a word or twain, how this dog was distressed; his master being wounded dead, shot, cut and slash'd, from heel to head, think how he was oppressed. to lose him that he loved most, and be upon a foreign coast, where no man would relieve him: he lick'd his masters wounds in love, and from his carkass would not move, altho' the sight did grieve him. by chance a souldier passing by, that did his masters coat espy, and quick away he took it: but _drunkard_ followed to a boat, to have again his master's coat, such theft he could not brook it. so after all his wo and wrack, to _westminster_ he was brought back, a poor half starved creature; and in remembrance of his cares, upon his back he closely wears a mourning coat by nature. live _drunkard_, sober _drunkard_ live, i know thou no offence wilt give, thou art a harmless dumb thing; and for thy love i'll freely grant, rather than thou shouldst ever want, each day to give thee something. thou shalt be _stellifide_ by me, i'll make the _dog-star_ wait on thee, and in his room i'll seat thee: when _sol_ doth in his progress swing, and in the dog-days hotly sing, he shall not over- heat thee. i lov'd thy master, so did all that knew him, great and small, and he did well deserve it: for he was honest, valiant, good, and one that manhood understood, and did till death preserve it. for whose sake, i'll his dog prefer, and at the dog at _westminster_, shall _drunkard_ be a bencher; where i will set a work his chops, not with bare bones, or broken scraps, but victuals from my trencher. so honest _drunkard_ now adieu, thy praise no longer i'll pursue, but still my love is to thee: and when thy life is gone and spent, these lines shall be thy monument, and shall much service do thee. _a_ song _sung by mrs._ ayliff _in the play call'd_ love triumphant: _or_, nature will prevail, _sett by mr._ henry purcell. [music] how happy's the husband, how happy's the husband, whose wife has been try'd, has been try'd, not damn'd to the bed, not damn'd to the bed of an ignorant bride; secure of what's left, secure of what's left, he ne'er misses the rest, but where there's enough, enough, enough, but where there's enough, supposes a feast: so foreknowing the cheat, he escapes the deceit; and in spight of the curse he resolves, he resolves to be blest. and in spight of the curse he resolves, he resolves to be blest. he resolves to be blest, he resolves, he resolves to be blest. if children are blessings, his comfort's the more, whose spouse has been known to be fruitful before; and the boy that she brings ready made to his hand, may stand him in stead for an heir to his land: shou'd his own prove a sot, when 'tis lawfully got as when e'er it is so, if it won't i'll be hang'd. _a new_ song, _to the tune of the old batchelor._ [music] if ever you mean to be kind, to me the favour, the favour allow; for fear that to morrow should alter my mind, oh! let me now, now, now, if in hand then a guinea you'll give, and swear by this kind embrace; that another to morrow, as you hope to live, oh! then i will strait unlace: for why should we two disagree, since we have, we have opportunity. _a_ song, _set to musick by mr._ will. richardson. [music] i know her false, i know her base, i know that gold alone can move; i know she jilts me to my face, and yet good gods, and yet good gods i know i love. i see too plain and yet am blind, wou'd think her true, while she forsooth; to me and to my rival's kind, courts him, courts me, courts him, courts me, and jilts us both. _a_ scotch song. [music] fye _jockey_ never prattle more so like a _loon_, no rebel e'er shall gar my heart to love: _sawney_ was a loyal _scot_ tho' dead and gone, and _jenny_ in her _daddy's_ way with muckle joy shall move: laugh at the _kirk-apostles_ & the canting swarms, and fight with bonny lads that love their monarchy and king, then _jenny_ fresh and blith shall take thee in her arms, and give thee twanty kisses, and perhaps a better thing. _a_ song _in the_ fairy queen. _sung by mrs._ dyer. [music] i am come to lock all fast, love without me cannot last: love, like counsels of the wise, must be hid from vulgar eyes; 'tis holy, 'tis holy, and we must, we must conceal it, they prophane it, they prophane it, who reveal it, they prophane it, they profane it, who reveal it. _a new_ song, _set to the flute._ [music] after the pangs of fierce desire, the doubts and hopes that wait on love; and feed by turns the raging fire, how charming must fruition prove: when the triumphant lover feels, none of those pains which once he bore; or when reflecting on his ills, he makes his pleasure, pleasure more, he makes his pleasure, pleasure more. _a_ song _in the comedy call'd_ sir anthony love: _or_, the rambling lady, _set by mr._ henry purcell. [music] in vain _clemene_, you bestow, the promis'd empire of your heart; if you refuse to let me know, the wealthy charms of every part. my passion with your kindness grew, tho' beauty gave the first desire, but beauty only to pursue, is following a wandring fire. as hills in perspective, suppress, the free enquiry of the sight: restraint makes every pleasure less, and takes from love the full delight. faint kisses may in part supply, those eager longings of my soul; but oh! i'm lost, if you deny, a quick possession of the whole. _a_ song, _set to musick by mr._ graves. [music] my dear _corinna_ give me leave, to gaze, to gaze on her i love; the gods cou'd never, never yet conceive, her worth, tho' from above; there's none on earth can equalize, so sweet, so sweet a soul as she; who ever gains so great a prize, has all, has all that heav'n can be. curse on my fate, who plac'd me here, in a sphere, a sphere, so much below, my love, my life, my all that's dear; and yet she must not know: the torment for her i sustain, shall ill, shall ill rewarded be; when loving, when loving, and not lov'd again, does prove, does prove, a hell to me. _a mock song to_ if love's a sweet passion. [music] if wine be a cordial why does it torment? if a poison oh! tell me whence comes my content? since i drink it with pleasure, why should i complain? or repent ev'ry morn when i know 'tis in vain: yet so charming the glass is, so deep is the quart, that at once it both drowns and enlivens my heart. i take it off briskly and when it is down, by my jolly complexion i make my joy known; but oh! how i'm blest when so strong it does prove, by its soveraign heat to expel that of love: when in quenching the old, i creat a new flame, and am wrapt in such pleasures that still want a name. _the_ loyal _subject's wish. by mrs._ anne morcott. [music] let _mary_ live long, she's vertuous and witty, all charmingly pretty; let _mary_ live long, and reign many years: wou'd the cloud was gone o'er, that troubles us sore, when the sun-shine appears; we shall be deliver'd, we shall be deliver'd, from fury and fears. heavens send the king home, with laurels to crown him, each rebel to own him; and may he live long, and reign many years: when the conquest is plain, and three kingdoms regain'd; let his enemies fall, then _cæsar_ shall flourish, then _cæsar_ shall flourish, in spight of them all. all glorious and gay, let the king live for ever: may he languish never, never: like flowers in _may_, his actions smell sweet: when the wars are all done, and he safe in his throne; trophies lay at his feet, with loud acclamations, with loud acclamations, his majesty greet. _the shepherdess_ lerinda's _complaint, by_ walter overbury, _gent._ [music] _lerinda_ complaineth that _strephon_ is dull, and that nothing diverting proceeds from his skull; but when once _lerinda_ vouchsafes to be kind, to her long admirer she'll then quickly find: such strange alteration as will her confute, that _strephon's_ transported, that _strephon's_ transported, that _strephon's_ transported and grown more acute. _love will find out the way._ [music] over the mountains, and over the waves; over the fountains, and under the graves: over rocks which are steepest, which do _neptune_ obey; over floods which are the deepest, love will find out the way. where there is no place, for the glow-worm to lie: where there is no space, for receipt of a flye: where the gnat she dares not venture, lest her self fast she lay: but if love come he will enter, and will find out the way. you may esteem him a child by his force; or you may deem him a coward, which is worse: but if he whom love doth honour, be conceal'd from the day; set a thousand guards upon him love will find out the way. some think to lose him, which is too unkind; and some do suppose him, poor heart to be blind: but if ne'er so close you wall him, do the best that you may; blind love, if so you call him, will find out the way. well may the eagle stoop down to the fist; or you may inveagle, the phenix of the east: with tears the tyger's moved, to give over his prey; but never stop a lover, he will post on his way. from _dover_ to _barwick_, and nations thro'out; brave _guy_ of _warwick_, that champion stout: with his warlike behaviour, thro' the world he did stray; to win his _phillis's_ favour, love will find out the way. in order next enters, _bevis_ so brave; after adventures, and policy grave: to see whom he desired, his _josian_ so gay, for whom his heart was fired, love found out the way. _the second part, to the same tune._ the gordian knot, which true lovers knit; undo you cannot, nor yet break it: make use of your inventions, their fancies to betray; to frustrate your intentions, love will find out the way. from court to cottage, in bower and in hall; from the king unto the beggar, love conquers all: tho' ne'er so stout and lordly, strive do what you may; yet be you ne'er so hardy, love will find out the way. love hath power over princes, or greatest emperor; in any provinces, such is love's power: there is no resisting, but him to obey; in spight of all contesting, love will find out the way. if that he were hidden, and all men that are; were strictly forbidden, that place to declare: winds that have no abiding, pitying their delay; will come and bring him tydings, and direct him the way. if the earth should part him. he would gallop it o're: if the seas should overthwart him, he would swim to the shore: should his love become a swallow, thro' the air to stray; love would lend wings to follow, and would find out the way. there is no striving, to cross his intent: there is no contriving, his plots to prevent: but if once the message greet him, that his true love doth stay; if death should come and meet him, love will find out the way. _a_ song, _in the play call'd the tragedy of_ cleomenes _the spartan heroe: sung by mrs._ butler, _set by mr._ h. purcell. [music] no, no, poor suffering heart, no change endeavour; chuse to sustain the smart rather than leave her: my ravish'd eyes behold such charms about her, i can dye with her, but not live without her, one tender sigh of her to see me languish: will more than pay the price of my past anguish, beware, oh cruel fair how you smile on me, 'twas a kind look of yours that has undone me. love has in store for me one happy minute, and she will end my pain who did begin it; then no day void of bliss and pleasures leaving, ages shall slide away without perceiving: _cupid_ shall guard the door, the more to please us, and keep out time and death when they would seaze us; time and death shall depart, and say in flying; love has found out a way to live by dying. _the jolly trades-men._ [music] sometimes i am a tapster new, and skilful in my trade sir, i fill my pots most duly, without deceit or froth sir: a spicket of two handfuls long, i use to occupy sir: and when i set a butt abroach, then shall no beer run by sir. sometimes i am a butcher, and then i feel fat ware sir; and if the flank be fleshed well, i take no farther care sir: but in i thrust my slaughtering-knife, up to the haft with speed sir; for all that ever i can do, i cannot make it bleed sir. sometimes i am a baker, and bake both white and brown sir; i have as fine a wrigling-pole, as any is in all this town sir: but if my oven be over-hot, i dare not thrust in it sir; for burning of my wrigling-pole, my skill's not worth a pin sir. sometimes i am a glover, and can do passing well sir; in dressing of a doe-skin, i know i do excel sir: but if by chance a flaw i find, in dressing of the leather; i straightway whip my needle out, and i tack 'em close together. sometimes i am a cook, and in _fleet-street_ i do dwell sir: at the sign of the sugar-loaf, as it is known full well sir: and if a dainty lass comes by, and wants a dainty bit sir; i take four quarters in my arms, and put them on my spit sir. in weavering and in fulling, i have such passing skill sir; and underneath my weavering-beam, there stands a fulling-mill sir: to have good wives displeasure, i would be very loath sir; the water runs so near my hand, it over-thicks my cloath sir. sometimes i am a shoe-maker, and work with silly bones sir: to make my leather soft and moist, i use a pair of stones sir: my lasts for and my lasting sticks, are fit for every size sir; i know the length of lasses feet, by handling of their thighs sir. the tanner's trade i practice, sometimes amongst the rest sir; yet i could never get a hair, of any hide i dress'd sir; for i have been tanning of a hide, this long seven years and more sir; and yet it is as hairy still, as ever it was before sir. sometimes i am a taylor, and work with thread that's strong sir; i have a fine great needle, about two handfulls long sir: the finest sempster in this town, that works by line or leisure; may use my needle at a pinch, and do themselves great pleasure. _the slow men of_ london: _or, the widow_ brown. _to the same tune._ there dwelt a widow in this town, that was both fair and lovely; her face was comely neat and brown, to pleasure she would move thee: her lovely tresses shin'd like gold, most neat is her behaviour; for truth it has of late been told, there's many strove to have her. there were three young men of this town; slow men of _london_; and they'd go wooe the widow _brown_, because they would be undone. the one a taylor was by trade, an excellent occupation; but widows love doth waste and fade, i find by observation: the second was a farrier bold, a man of excellent metal; his love to her was never cold, so firm his thoughts did settle, there were, _&c._ the third a weaver was that came, a suitor to this widow; her beauty did his heart inflame, her thoughts deceit doth shadow, widows can dissemble still, when young men come a wooing; yet they were guided by her will, that prov'd to their undoing. there were three, _&c._ this widow had a dainty tongue, and words as sweet as honey; which made her suitors to her throng, till they had spent their money: the taylor spent an hundred pound, that he took up on credit; but now her knavery he hath found, repents that are he did it. these were three, _&c._ threescore pounds the farrier had, left him by his father; to spend this money he was mad, his dad so long did gather: this widow often did protest, she lov'd him best of any; thus would she swear, when she did least, to make them spend their money. these were three, _&c._ the weaver spent his daily gains, that he got by his labour; some thirty pounds he spent in vain, he borrow'd of his neighbour: she must have sack and muscadine, and claret brew'd with sugar: each day they feed her chops with wine, for which they all might hug her. these were three, _&c._ _the second part, to the same tune._ she went apparell'd neat and fine, people well might wonder; to see how she in gold did shine, her fame abroad did thunder: a water'd camlet gown she had, a scarlet coat belaced with gold, which made her suitors glad, to see how she was graced. these were, _&c._ the taylor was the neatest lad, his cloaths were oft perfum'd; kind entertainment still he had, till he his 'state consum'd: the farrier likewise spent his 'state, the weaver often kiss'd her: but when that they in 'state were poor, they sought but still they miss'd her. these were, _&c._ the farrier and the weaver too, were fain to fly the city: the widow did them quite undoe, in faith more was the pity: she of her suitors being rid, a welchman came unto her: by night and day his suit he ply'd, most roughly he did woo her; for wooing tricks he quite put down, the slow-men of _london_; he over-reach'd the widow _brown_, that had so many undone. he swore he was a gentleman, well landed in the country: and liv'd in reputation there, his name sir _rowland humphry_. the widow did believe him then, and love unto him granted; thus he her favour did obtain, welchmen will not be daunted. by cunning tricks he quite put down, the slow-men of _london_: that came to woo this widow _brown_, because they would be undone. the welchman ply'd her night and day, till to his bow he brought her; and bore away the widow quite, from all that ever sought her: she thought to be a lady gay, but she was sore deceiv'd: thus the welchman did put down, the slow-men of _london_: for they would wooe the widow _brown_, because they would be undone. thus she was fitted in her kind, for all her former knavery; the welchman did deceive her mind, and took down all her bravery: it had been better she had ta'en, the weaver, smith, or taylor; for when she sought for state and pomp, the welchman quite did fail her: then learn you young men of this town, you slow-men of _london_: which way to take the widow _brown_, for least you all be undone. _the royal example. by mr._ henry purcell. [music] may her blest example chace vice, in troops out of the land; flying from her awful face, like trembling ghost when day's at hand: may her hero bring us peace, won with honour in the field: and our home-bred factions cease, he still our sword, and she our shield. _the royal triumph of_ britain's _monarch_. [music] new pyramid's raise, bring the poplar and bayes, to crown our triumphant commander; the _french_ too shall run, as the _irish_ have done, like the _persians_, the _persians_; like the _persians_, the _persians_, like the _persians_ before _alexander_. had the _rubicon_ been, such a stream as the _boyn_, not _cæsar_, not _cæser_ himself had gone on: king _william_ exceeds, great _cæsar_ in deeds, more than he did, more than he did, more than he did, great _pompey_ before. tho' born in a state, fore-told was his fate, that he should be a monarch ador'd: one globe was too small, to contain such a soul, new worlds must submit to his sword. so great and benign, is our sov'reign queen, made to share his empire and bed; may she still fill his arms, with her lovely soft charms, and a race of king _william's_ succeed. _the jolly_ broom-man: _or, the unhappy boy turn'd thrifty._ [music] there was an old man, and he liv'd in a wood, and his trade it was making of broom, and he had a naughty boy, _jack_ to his son, and he lay in bed till 'twas noon, 'twas noon, and he lay in bed till 'twas noon. no father e'er had, so lazy a lad, with sleep he his time did consume, in bed where he lay, still every day, and would not go cut his green broom, green broom, and would not go cut his green broom. the father was vext, and sorely perplext, with passion he entered the room; come sirrah, he cry'd, i'll liquor your hide, if you will not go gather green broom, green broom, if you will not go gather green broom. _jack_ lay in his nest, still taking his rest, and valu'd not what was his doom, but now you shall hear, his mother drew near, and made him go gather green broom, green broom, and made him go gather green broom. _jack's_ mother got up, and fell in a rage, and swore she would fire the room, if _jack_ did not rise, and go to the wood, and fetch home a bundle of broom, green broom, and fetch home a bundle of broom. this wakened him straight, before it was late, as fearing the terrible doom, dear mother, quoth he, have pity on me, i'll fetch home a bundle of broom, green broom, i'll fetch home a bundle of broom. then _jack_ he arose, and he slipt on his cloaths, and away to the wood very soon; to please the old wife, he took a sharp knife, and fell to the cutting of broom, green broom, and fell to the cutting of broom. _jack_ follow'd his trade and readily made, his goods up for country grooms: this done, honest _jack_ took them at his back, and cry'd, will you buy any brooms, green brooms, and cry'd, will you buy any brooms. then _jack_ he came by a gentleman's house, in which was abundance of rooms; he stood at the door, and began for to roar, crying, maids will you buy any brooms, green brooms, crying, maids will you buy any brooms. i tell you they're good, just fetch'd from the wood, and fitted for sweeping of rooms; come handle my ware, for girls i declare, you never had better green brooms, green brooms, you never had better green brooms. the maiden did call, the steward of the hall, who came in his silks and perfumes, he gave _jack_ his price, and thus in a trice, he sold all his bundle of brooms, green brooms, he sold all his bundle of brooms. likewise to conclude, they gave him rich food, with liquor of spicy perfumes; the hot boyl'd and roast, did cause _jack_ to boast, no trade was like making of brooms, green brooms, no trade was like making of brooms. for first i am paid, and then i am made, right welcome by stewards and grooms, here's money, meat and drink, what trade do you think compares with the making of brooms, green brooms, compares with the making of brooms. i have a good trade, more goods must be made, to furnish young lasses and grooms, wherefore i shall lack a prentice, quoth _jack_, i'll teach him the making of brooms, green brooms, i'll teach him the making of brooms. _a_ song, _the words and tune by mr._ witt green. [music] never sigh, but think of kissing, more, and more, and more of wishing; to possess the mighty blessing, while they enjoy it they are true, they'll hug, they'll cling, and heave up too, but liberty when once regain'd, the favour's to another feign'd. why should we then the sex admire, for 'twas never their desire, to maintain a constant fire; if oagling, wheedling you'll believe, they'll hourly study to deceive, but we will find out better ways, in musick, singing, spend our days. _the loyal delights of a contented mind. the words by mr._ mumford, _set by mr._ h. purcell. [music] oh how happy's he, who from business free, can enjoy his mistress, bottle, and his friend: not confin'd to state, nor the pride of the great; only on himself, not others doth depend: change can never vex him, faction ne'er perplex him; if the world goes well, a bumper crowns his joys, if it be not so than he takes of two; till succeeding glasses, thinking doth destroy. when his noddle reels, he to _cælia_ steals; and by pleasures unconfin'd runs o'er the night; in the morning wakes, a pleasing farewel takes, ready for fresh tipling, and for new delight: when his table's full, oh, then he hugs his soul; and drinking all their healths, a welcome doth express: when the cloth's removed, then by all approv'd, comes the full grace cup, queen _anna's_ good success. _a_ riddle. [music] there is a thing which in the light is seldom us'd, but in the night, it serves the maiden female crew, the ladies, and the good wives too: they us'd to take it in their hand, and then it will uprightly stand; and to a hole they it apply, where by it's good will it could dye: it wasts, goes out, and still within, it leaves it's moisture thick and thin. _on a_ lady _drinking the waters, the words by sir_ george etherige. _set by mr._ james hart. [music] _phillis_ lay aside your thinking, youth and beauty shou'd be gay, laugh and talk, and mind your drinking: whilst we pass the time away, laugh and talk, and mind your drinking, whilst we pass the time away. they ought only to be pensive, who dare not their grief declare, lest their story be offensive, but still languish in despair, lest their, _&c._ yet what more torments your lovers, they are jealous, they obey, one whose restless minds discovers, she's no less a slave than they, one whose, _&c._ _the lascivious lover and the coy lass._ [music] pish fye, you're rude sir, i never saw such idle fooling; you're grown so lewd sir, so debauch'd i hate your ways; leave, what are you doing? i see you seek my ruin, i'll cry out, pray make no delay, but take your hand away; ah! good sir, pray sir, don't you do so, never was i thus abus'd so, by any man, but you alone, therefore sir, pray begone. _advice to a miser. set by mr._ james graves. [music] retire old miser, and learn to be wiser, in looking o'er books ne'er spend all thy time; but rather be thinking, of roaring and drinking, for by those to promotion thou'lt speedily climb. then prithee be jolly, desert this thy folly, make welcome thy friends, and ne'er repine; for when thou art hurl'd into the next world, thy heir i'll engage it in splendor will shine. when thy breath is just vanish'd, his care will be banisht, and scarce will he follow thy corps to the grave; then be cautious and wary, for nought but canary, he's a fool that for others himself do's enslave. _a_ song _in the play call'd_, rule a wife and have wife. _set by mr._ henry purcell. _sung by mrs._ hudson. there's not a swain on the plain, wou'd be blest like me, oh! cou'd you but, cou'd you but, cou'd you but, on me smile; but you appear so severe, that trembling with fear, my heart goes pit a pat, pit a pat, pit a pat, all the while. if i cry must i die, you make no reply, but look shy, and with a scornful eye, kill me by your cruelty; oh! can you be, can you be, can you be, can you be, can you be, can you be, can you be, can you, can you, can you be too hard to me. _a_ song _in the play call'd the_ lancashire witches. _sung by mrs._ hudson, _and set by mr._ john eccles. [music] tormenting beauty leave my breast, in spight of _cloe_ i'll have rest; in vain is all her syren art, still longer to hold my troubled heart: for i'm resolv'd to break the chain, and o'er her charms the conquest gain, and o'er her charms the conquest gain. insulting beauty i have born, too long your female pride and scorn; too long have been your publick jest, your common theme at ev'ry feast: let others thee, vain fair, pursue, whilst i for ever bid adieu, whilst i for ever bid adieu. _a_ song _in the comedy call'd_, the wives excuse: _or_, cuckolds make themselves. _sung by mr._ mountford. _set by mr._ henry purcell. say cruel _amoret_, how long, how long, in billet-doux, and humble song; shall poor _alexis_, shall poor _alexis_, poor _alexis_ wooe? if neither writing, sighing, sighing, dying, reduce you to a soft complying, oh, oh, oh, oh, when will you come too. full thirteen moons are now past o'er, since first those stars i did adore, that set my heart on fire: the conscious play-house, parks and court, have seen my sufferings made your sport, yet i am ne'er the nigher. a faithful lover shou'd deserve, a better face, than thus to starve: in sight of such a feast; but oh! if you'll not think it fit, your hungry slave shou'd taste on bit; gives some kind looks at least. _the double lover's request._ [music] such command o'er my fate has your love or your hate, that nothing can make me more wretched or great: whilst expiring i lie, to live or to die, thus doubtful the sentence of such i rely: your tongue bids me go, tho' your eyes say not so, but much kinder words from their language do flow. then leave me not here, thus between hope and fear, tho' your love cannot come, let your pity appear; but this my request, you must grant me at least, and more i'll not ask, but to you leave the rest; if my fate i must meet, let it be at your feet, death there with more joy, than else-where i wou'd greet. _a_ song, _set by mr._ rob. king. [music] tell me why so long you try me, still i follow, still you fly me; will the race be never done, will it be ever but begun: could i quit my love for you, i'd ne'er love more what e'er i do; when i speak truth, you think i lie, you think me false, but say not why. _a_ song, _set by mr._ barincloe. tis a foolish mistake, that riches can speak, or e'er for good rhetoric pass: to a fool i confess, your gold may address, or else where the master's an ass: to a woman of sense, 'tis a sordid pretence, that a golden effigies can move her; no face on the coin, is half so divine, as that of a faithful young lover. but men when they love, their passion to prove, from the court to the dull country novice; to the fair they're so kind, first to fathom their mind, next search the prerogative office: no _imprimis_ i give, then the fair one they give, notwithstanding their strong protestations; till the lady discover, no fortune, no lover, then draws off her fond inclination, _the valiant_ soldier's, _and_ sailor's _loyal subjects health, to the_ queen, prince _and noble_ commanders. [music] now, now the queen's health, and let the haut-boys play; whilst the troops on their march shall huzza, huzza, huzza, now now the queen's health, and let the haut-boys play, whilst the drums and the trumpets, sound from the shore, huzza, huzza, huzza. now now the prince's health, and let the haut-boys play, whilst the troops on their march, shall huzza, huzza, huzza: now now the prince's health, and let the haut-boys play; whilst the drums and the trumpets sound from the shore huzza, huzza, huzza. now the brave _eugene's_ health, who shews the _french_ brave play; and does march over rocks, let's huzza, huzza, huzza, now the brave _eugene's_ health, and let the haut-boys play; whilst the drums and the trumpets sounds as they march, huzza, huzza, huzza. now now the duke's health, brave _marlborough_ i say, whilst the cannon do roar, let's huzza, huzza, huzza, now now the duke's health, and let the haut-boys play; whilst the drums and the trumpets sound from the shore, huzza, huzza, huzza. now brave _ormond's_ health boys, whilst colours do display: and the _britains_ in fight, shall huzza, huzza, huzza; now brave _ormond's_ health boys, whilst colours do display: and the drums and the trumpets sound from the shore huzza, huzza, huzza. now sir _cloudsly's_ health boys and trumpets sound each day, whilst the tars with their caps shall huzza, huzza, huzza. now sir _cloudsly's_ health boys, and trumpets sound each day, whilst the thundring cannon loudly do roar huzza, huzza, huzza. brave _peterborough's_ health boys, who boldly makes his way, while the _french_ run let's huzza, huzza, huzza; brave _peterborough's_ health boys, and let the haut-boys play, while the drums and the trumpets sound as they march huzza, huzza, huzza. now now brave _leak's_ health, who is sailed away, for to find the _french_ fleet let's huzzza, huzza, huzza, now now brave _leak's_ health, who'll shew the _french_ fair play, while the drums and the trumpets, sound from on board, huzza, huzza, huzza. _the_ beau's _ballad. occasioned by the sight of a white marble_ side-table. [music] a pox on the fool, who could be so dull, to contrive such a table for glasses: which at the first sight, the guests must affright, more by half than their liquor rejoyces. 'tis so like a tomb, that whoever does come can't look on't without thus reflecting; heaven knows how soon, we must lye under one, and such thoughts must needs be perplexing. then away with that stone. break it, throw it down, to some church or other, else fling't in: 'tis fitter by far, to have a place there, than stand here to spoil mirth and good drinking. there death let it show, to those who will go, and monuments there gaze and stare at; we come here to live, and sad thoughts away drive, with good store of immortal claret. tho' the glasses stand there, they shan't do so here, 'tis the only kind lesson that teaches; whilst it seems to say, life's short, drink away, no time o'er your liquor to preach is. then fill up the glass, about let it pass, tho' the marble of death doth remind us; the wine shall ne'er die, tho' you must and i, we'll not leave a drop of't behind us. _a_ song. [music] underneath the castle wall, the queen of love sat mourning, tearing of her golden locks, her red rose, cheeks adorning; with her lilly white hand she smote her breasts, and said she was forsaken, with that the mountains they did skip, and the hills fell all a quaking. underneath the rotten hedge, the tinkers wife sat shiting, tearing of a cabbage leaf, her shitten a-- a wiping; with her cole black hands she scratch'd her a-- and swore she was beshitten, with that the pedlars all did skip, and the fidlers fell a spitting. _the unfortunate lover. set by mr._ willis. [music] what shall i do, i am undone, where shall i fly my self to shun; ah! me my self, my self must kill, and yet i die against my will. in starry letters i behold, my death is in the heavens inroll'd, there find i writ in skies above, that i, poor i, must die for love. 'twas not my love deserv'd to die, oh no, it was unworthy i; i for her love should not have dy'd, but that i had no worth beside. ah me! that love such woe procures, for without her no life endures; i for her virtues did her serve, doth such a love a death deserve. _a_ song. [music] my dear and only love take heed, how thou thy self expose; and let not longing lovers feed, upon such looks as those i'll marble wall thee round about, and build without a door; but if my love doth once break out, i'll never love thee more. if thou hast love that thou refine, and tho' thou seest me not; yet paralell'd that heart of thine shall never be forgot: but if unconstancy admit, a stranger to bear sway; my treasure that proves counterfeit, and he may gain the day. i'll lock my self within a cell, and wander under ground; for there is no such faith in her, as there is to be found: i'll curse the day that e'er thy face, my soul did so betray; and so for ever, evermore, i'll sing oh well-a-day! like _alexander_ i will prove, for i will reign alone; i'll have no partners in my love, nor rivals in my throne: i'll do by thee as _nero_ did, when _rome_ was set on fire; not only all relief forbid, but to the hills retire. i'll fold my arms like ensigns up, thy falshood to deplore; and after such a bitter cup, i'll never love thee more. yet for the love i bore thee once, and lest that love should die; a marble tomb of stone i'll write, the truth to testifie: that all the pilgrims passing by, may see and so implore; and stay and read the reason why, i'll never love thee more. _the second part of the trader's medly: or, the cries of_ london. [music] come buy my greens and flowers fine, your houses to adorn; i'll grind your knives, to please your wives, and bravely cut your corns: ripe straw-berries here i have to sell, with taffity-tarts and pies; i've brooms to sell will please you well, if you'll believe your eyes. here's salop brought from foreign parts, with dainty pudding-pyes; and shrewsbury-cakes, with wardens bak'd, i scorn to tell you lies: with laces long and ribbons broad, the best that e'er you see; if you do lack an almanack, come buy it now of me. the tinker's come to stop your holes, and sauder all your cracks; what e'er you think here's dainty ink, and choice of sealing-wax: come maids bring out your kitchin-stuff, old rags, or women's hair; i'll sell you pins for coney-skins, come buy my earthen-ware. here's limmons of the biggest size, with eggs and butter too; brave news they say is come to day, if _jones's_ news be true: here's spiggot and fine wooden-wares, with fossets to put in; i'll bottom all your broken chairs, then pray let me begin. a rabbit fat and plump i have, young maidens love the same; come buy a bird, i'm at a word, or pullet of the game: i sell the best spice ginger-bread, you ever did eat before; while madam _king_ her dumplings, she crys from door to door. come buy a comb, or buckle fine, for girdle of your lass; my oysters too are very new, with trumpet sounding glass: your lanthorn-horns i'll make them shine, and mend them very well; there's no jack-line so good as mine, as i have here to sell. come buy my honey and my book, for cuckolds to peruse; your turnip-man is come again, to tell his dames some news: i've plumbs and damsons very fine, with very good mellow pears; come buy a charming dish of fish, and give it to your heirs. come buy my figs, before they're gone, here's custards of the best; and mustard too, that's very new, tho' you may think i jest: my holland-socks are very strong, here's eels to skip and play; my hot grey-pease buy if you please, for i come no more to day. old suits or cloaks, or campaign wigs, with rusty guns or swords: when whores or pimps do buy my shrimps, i never take their words: your chimney clean my boy shall sweep, while i do him command; card matches cheap by lump or heap, the best in all the land. come taste and buy my brandy-wine, 'tis newly come from _france_: this powder now is good i vow, which i have got by chance; new mackerel the best i have, of any in the town; here's cloath to sell will please you well, as soft as any down. work for the cooper, maids give ear, i'll hoop your tubs and pails: and if your sight it is not right, here's that that never fails: milk that is new come from the cow, with flounders fresh and fair; here's elder-buds to purge your bloods, and onions keen and rare. small-coal young maids i've brought you here, the best that e'er you us'd; here's cherries round and very sound, if they are not abus'd; here's pippings lately come from _kent_, pray taste and then you'll buy; but mind my song, and then e'er long, you'll sing it as well as i. _the lover's_ charm. [music] tell me, tell me, charming fair, why so cruel and severe; is't not you, ah! you alone, is't not you, ah! you alone, secures my wandering heart your own: change, which once the most did please, now wants the power to give me ease; you've fixt me as the centure sure, and you who kill alone can cure, and you who kill alone can cure. if refusing what was granted, be to raise my passion higher; nymph believe me, i ne'er wanted, art for to inflame desire: calm my thoughts, serene my mind, still increasing was my joy, till _lavinia_ prov'd unkind, nothing could my peace destroy. _a_ song _in the_ royal mischief. _set by mr._ john eccles. _sung by mr._ leveridge. [music] unguarded lies the wishing maid, distrusting not to be betray'd; ready to fall with all her charms, a shining treasure to your arms: who hears this story must believe, no heart can truer joy receive; since to take love and give it too, is all that love for hearts can do. _a ligg of good noses set forth in a jest. most fitly compared to whom you think best._ [music: _first nose._] [music: _cho. of all._] [music: _ n._, _ d._ _ d._ _ th._] [music: _all shake hands._] _the largest._ my nose is the largest of all in this place, mark how it becometh the midst of my face; by measure i take it from the end to the brow, four inches by compass, the same doth allow. likewise it is forged of passing good metal, all of right copper, the best in the kettle; for redness and goodness the virtue is such, that all other metal it serveth to touch. old smug, nor the tinker that made us so merry, with their brave noses more red than a cherry; none here to my challenge can make a denial, when my nose cometh thus bravely to tryal. _all sing._ room for good noses the best in our town, come fill the pot hostess, your ale it is brown; for his nose, and thy nose, and mine shall not quarrel, so long as one gallon remains in the barrel. _the longest._ my nose is the longest no man can deny, for 'tis a just handful right, mark from mine eye; most seemly down hanging full low to my chin, as into my belly it fain would look in. it serves for a weapon my mouth to defend, my teeth it preserveth still like a good friend; where if so i happen to fall on the ground, my nose takes the burthen and keeps my face sound. it likewise delighteth to peep in the cup, searching there deeply 'till all be drank up; then let my nose challenge of noses the best, the longest with ladies are still in request. _all sing._ room for, _&c._ _the thickest._ my nose it is thickest and roundest of all, inriched with rubies the great with the small; no goldsmith of jewels can make the like show, see how they are planted here all on a row. how like a round bottle it also doth hang, well stuffed with liquor will make it cry twang; with all, it is sweating in the midst of the cold, more worth to the honour than ransoms of gold. you see it is gilded with claret and sack, a food and fit cloathing for belly and back: then let my nose challenge of all that be here, to sit at this table as chiefest in cheer. _all sing._ room for, _&c._ _the second part._ _we have the best noses that be in our town, if any bring better come let him sit down._ _the flatest._ my nose is the flatest of all that be here, devoid of all danger and bodily fear; when other long noses let fly at a post, my nose hath the advantage, well known to my host. for 'tis of the making of _dunstable_ way, plain without turning as travellers say, though no nose but approveth to some disgrace, it bringeth less trouble unto a good face. then let me do homage to them that have best, for all nose and no nose, are both but a jest; yet my nose shall challenge although it be flat, a place with my neighbours at whiping the cat. _all sing._ room for good noses the best in our town, come fill the pot hostess, your ale it is brown: for his nose, and thy nose, and mine shall not quarrel, so long as one gallon remains in the barrel. _the sharpest._ my nose is the sharpest good neighbours mark well, the smoak of a banquet three mile i can smell; forged and shaped so sharp at the end, makes known that i pass not what others do spend. yet must my nose spiced most orderly be, with nutmegs and ginger, or else 'tis not for me; and so to the bottom the same i commit, of every man's cup whereas i do sit. my nose is the foremost you see at each feast, of all other noses the principal guest: then let my nose challenge as sharp as it shows, the chiefest of every good and bad nose. _all sing._ room for, _&c._ _the broadest._ my nose is the broadest how like you sir, that, it feeds on good liquor and grows very fat; for like to a panack it covers my face, to make other noses the more in disgrace. and look how it glisters like copper-smith's hall, to which our good noses are summoned all; when if that the colours hold out not good red, a fine must be levied and set on their head. for having the broadest and fairest to the eye, the sergeant of noses appointed am i; then let my nose challenge the chiefest from the rest, of all other noses the broadest is best. _all sing._ room for good noses the best in our town, come fill the pot hostess, your ale it is brown; for his nose, and thy nose, and mine shall not quarrel, so long as one gallon remains in the barrel. _the_ ludgate _prisoners._ [music] noble king _lud_, full long hast thou stood, not framed of wood, but of stone of stone sure thou art, like our creditors heart, that regards not our sorrowful moan. within the gate, they cry at the grate, pray remember our fate and shew pity; the poor and distress'd, who in bonds are oppress'd, entreat the relief of the city in threadbare coats, we tear our throats, with pitiful notes that would move all creatures, but brutes, to give ear to our suits, and themselves like true christians approve. but in vain we cry, with a box hanging by, good sirs cast an eye on our case; no beau nor town mistress, are touched with our distress, but hold up their nose at the place. the lawyer jogs on, without looking upon th' afflicted, whose moans he gives being; nor thinks on us cits, but breviates and writs, and demurrs on exorbitant feeing, the _serjeants_ and _yeomen_, who seek to undo men, though good-men and true-men ne'er mind us; but rejoyce they get, by our being in debt, and that where they have brought us, they find us. the merchant alone, makes our sorrows his own, and allows there is none but may fail; since that is free, by losses at sea, may be immurr'd in a gaol. his purse and his board, with plenty are stor'd, due relief to afford to the needy; while the priest in his coach, joggs on to debauch, to cloath us or feed us too greedy. others go by, and hearing our cry, they cast up their eye in disdain; affirming that we, if once get free, should quickly be prisoners again, but let 'em take heed, that reproach us indeed, and thus at our need go by grinning; since it is so man, that there is no man, knows his end, that may know his beginning. _room for gentlemen._ [music] room for gentlemen, here comes a company, room for gentlemen, here comes my lord-mayor; you barons, you knights, and also you 'squires, give room for gentlemen, here comes my lord mayor. first comes the worshipful company, of gallant _mercers_ into this place; with their worthy caps of maintenance, upon their shoulders to their great grace: side by side do they go as you see here, _room for_, &c. next to them here comes the _grocers_, a company of gallants bold; who willingly do give attendance, as all the people may behold: in their gowns and their caps with gallant cheer. room for, _&c._ then the _drapers_ they come next, with their streamers flying so fair; and their trumpets sounding most loudly, attending still upon my lord mayor: their whifflers, their batchelors, and all they have there, give room, _&c._ then comes the company of gallant _fishmongers_, attending his lordship's coming here; as duty bindeth they do still wait, until his lordship doth appear: then they rise, and go with lusty cheer, with loving hearts before the lord mayor. the _goldsmiths_ they are next to them, a braver company there cannot be; all in their liveries going most bravely, and colours spread most gallantly: they do wait, they attend, and then they stay there, until the coming of my lord mayor. the _merchant-taylors_ now they come in, a company both stout and bold; most willing to perform their duties, scorning of any to be controul'd: in their gowns and their caps, and ancient affairs, all attend, _&c._ the _haberdashers_ a company be, of gentlemen both grave and wise; to all good orders they do agree, for the city's good they still devise: they set to their helping as you may hear, still to the comfort of city and mayor. the _skinners_ they a company be, as gallant men as be the rest; their duties they perform truly, as honestly as do the best: their antients, then drums, then trumpets be there, attending still, _&c._ truly the _salters_ a company grave, of understanding be good and wise; and to perform all godly orders, within the city they devise: when occasion doth serve they present themselves there, with all the company, _&c._ the _iron-mongers_ a company be, who know their duties every one; and willingly they do obey, and wait his lordship still upon: from the morning they rise they still do stay there, until the departing of, _&c._ the company of worthy _vintners_, his lordship still do wait upon; with all their furniture along most gallantly, in order they go every one: until the companys do appear, and then they go before, _&c._ a company there is of worthy _cloth-workers_, who wait and give attendance still: when his lordship hath any occasion, they ready are to obey his will; for fear any service should be wanting there, they will present themselves before the lord mayor. god bless our king and counsel all, and all his true subjects in this land; and cut down all those false hereticks, that would the gospel still withstand: god prosper this city, and all that are here, and i wish you to say god bless my lord-mayor. _the batchelor's choice._ [music] i fain wou'd find a passing good wife, that i may live merry all days of my life, but that i do fear much sorrow and strife, then i'll not be married yet, yet, yet, and i'll not be married yet, yet, yet. if i should marry a maid that is fair, with her round cherry cheeks and her flaxen hair, many close meetings i must forbear, and i'll, _&c._ if i should marry a maid that is foul, the best of my pleasure will be but a scoul. she'll sit in a corner like to an owl, and i'll not be married yet, yet, yet, and i'll not be married yet, yet, yet. if i should marry a maid that's a slut, my diet a dressing abroad i must put, for fear of distempers to trouble my gut, and i'll not be married yet, yet, yet, and i'll not be married yet, yet, yet. if i should marry a maid that's a fool, to learn her more wit i must put her to school, or else fool-hardy keep in good rule, and i'll, _&c._ if i should marry a maid that's a scold, my freedom at home is evermore sold, her mouth is too little her tongue for to hold, and i'll, _&c._ if i should marry with one that's a whore, i must keep open for her my back door, and so a kind wittal be called therefore, and i'll, _&c._ if i should marry a maid that is proud, she'll look for much more than can be allow'd, no wife of that making i'll have i have vow'd, and i'll, _&c._ if i should marry a maid that is meek, the rule of my household i might go seek, for such a kind soul i care not a leek, and i'll, _&c._ i would have a wife to come at a call, too fat, nor too lean, too low, nor too tall, but such a good wife as may please all, else i'll not be married yet, yet, yet, else i'll not be married yet, yet, yet. _the second part._ if i should go seek the whole world about, to find a kind and loving wife out, that labour were lost, i am in great doubt, and i'll not be married yet, yet, yet, and i'll not be married yet, yet, yet. if i marry with one that is young, with a false heart and flattering tongue, sorrow and care may be my song, and i'll, _&c._ if i should marry with one that is old, i never should have the pleasures i would, but arm full of bones frozen with cold, and i'll, _&c._ if i should marry with one that is poor, by me my best friends will set little store and so go a begging from door to door, and i'll, _&c._ if i should marry with one that is rich, she'll ever upbraid me she brought me too much, and make me her drudge, but i'll have none such, and i'll, _&c._ if i should marry with one that is blind, all for to seek and worse for to find, i then should have nothing to please my mind, and i'll, _&c._ if i should marry with one that is dumb, how could she welcome my friends that come, for her best language is to say mum, and i'll not be married yet, yet, yet, and i'll not be married yet, yet, yet. if i should marry with one that is deaf, hard of belief, and jealous 'till death, to the jawm of a chimney spend i my breath, and i'll, _&c._ if i should marry with one that is fine, she will spend all in ale and in wine, spend she her own, she shall not spend mine, and i'll, _&c._ if i should marry with one that is tall, i having but little she would have it all, then will i live single, whate'er it befal, and i'll, _&c._ for when i am married i must be glad, to please my wife though never so bad, then farewel the joys that lately i had, and i'll not be married yet, yet, yet, and i'll not be married yet, yet, yet. _maids that will not when you may, when you would, you shall have nay._ _the power of verse._ [music] tho' thou'rt ugly and old, a damn'd slut and a scold, yet if you will tip me a guinea; by the help of my rhimes, to the latest of times, thou shalt have thy adorers dear _jenny_. we bards have a knack, to turn white into black, and make vice seem vertue, which odd is; true poetical cant, dubbs a rebel a saint, and refines a jilt into a goddess. these trick rhiming sages, observ'd in all ages, to dress naked truth in a fable; and tho' ev'ry story, out-did purgatory, they still were believ'd by the rabble. pray what was _acteon_, whom dogs made a prey on, but a sportsman undone by his chasing; or the fam'd _diomede_, of whom his nags fled, but a jockey quite ruin'd by racing? _medæa_, 'tis sung, could make old women young. tho' she nought but a true waiting-maid is; who with comb of black lead, with paint white and red, with patch and wash, vamps up grey ladies. _vulcan_ left the bellows, and sooty left good fellows, that he might take of _nectar_ a cann full; _venus_ was a gay trull, to the cuckoldly fool, _mars_ a bully that beat on her anvil. _neptune_ was a tarpawling, and _ph[oe]bus_ by calling, a mountebank, wizard, and harper; jolly _bacchus_ a lad, of the wine-drawing trade, and _mercury_ a pimp and a sharper. _pallas_ was a stale maid, with a grim _gorgon's_ head, whose ugliness made her the chaster, a scold great was _juno_, as i know, or you know, and _jove_ was as great a whore-master. then prithee dear creature, now show thy good nature, this once be my female _mac[oe]nas_; and times yet unknown, my _jenny_ shall own, chast as _pallas_, but fairer than _venus_. _the bonny lass: or, the button'd_ smock. [music] sit you merry gallants, for i can tell you news, of a fashion call'd the button'd smock, the which our wenches use: because that in the city, in troth it is great pity; our gallants hold it much in scorn. they should put down the city: but is not this a bouncing wench, and is not this a bonny; in troth she wears a _holland_ smock, if that she weareth any. a bonny lass in a country town, unto her commendation; she scorns a _holland_ smock, made after the old fashion: but she will have it _holland_ fine, as fine as may be wore; hem'd and stitch'd with _naples_ silk, and button'd down before: but is not, _&c._ our gallants of the city, new fashions do devise; and wear such new found fangle things, which country folk despise: as for the button'd smock, none can hold it in scorn; nor none can think the fashion ill, it is so closely worn: although it may be felt, it's seldom to be seen; it passeth all the fashions yet, that heretofore hath been. but is not, _&c._ our wenches of the city, that gains the silver rare; sometimes they wear a canvass smock, that's torn or worn thread-bare: perhaps a smock of lockrum, that dirty, foul, or black: or else a smock of canvass course, as hard as any sack. but is not, _&c._ but she that wears the _holland_ smock, i commend her still that did it; to wear her under parts so fine, the more 'tis for her credit: for some will have the out-side fine, to make the braver show; but she will have her _holland_ smock that's button'd down below. but is not, _&c._ but if that i should take in hand, her person to commend; i should vouchsafe a long discourse, the which i could not end: for her vertues they are many, her person likewise such; but only in particular, some part of them i'll touch. but is not, _&c._ those fools that still are doing, with none but costly dames; with tediousness of wooing, makes cold their hottest flames: give me the country lass, that trips it o'er the field; and ope's her forest at the first. and is not coy to yield. who when she dons her vesture, she makes the spring her glass; and with her comely gesture, doth all the meadows pass: who knows no other cunning, but when she feels it come; to gripe your back, if you be slack, and thrust your weapon home. 'tis not their boasting humour, their painted looks nor state; nor smells of the perfumer, the creature doth create: shall make me unto these, such slavish service owe; give me the wench that freely takes, and freely doth bestow. who far from all beguiling, doth not her beauty mask; but all the while lye smiling, while you are at your task: who in the midst of pleasure, will beyond active strain; and for your pranks, will con you thanks, and cursey for your pain. _a_ song. _set by mr._ ackeroyd. z----ds madam return me my heart, or by the lord _harry_ i'll make ye; tho' you sleep when i talk of my smart, as i hope to be knighted i'll wake ye; if you rant, why by _jove_, then i'll rant as well as you; there's no body cares for your puffing, you're mistaken in me; nay prithee, prithee, prithee pish, we'll try who's the best at a huffing. but if you will your heart surrender, and confess yourself uncivil; 'tis probable i may grow tender, and recal what i purpos'd of evil, but if you persist in rigour, 'tis a thousand to one but i teeze you; for you'll find so much heat and such vigour, as may trouble you forsooth or please you. _a_ song _in the comedy call'd_ the maid's last prayer: _or_, any thing rather than fail. [music] tho' you make no return to my passion, still, still i presume to adore; 'tis in love but an odd reputation, when faintly repuls'd to give o'er: when you talk of your duty, i gaze at your beauty; nor mind the dull maxim at all, let it reign in _cheapside_, with the citizens bride: it will ne'er be receiv'd, it will ne'er, ne'er, it will ne'er be receiv'd at _white-hall_. what apochryphal tales are you told, by one who wou'd make you believe; that because of _to have_ and _to hold_, you still must be pinn'd to his sleeve: 'twere apparent high-treason, 'gainst love and 'gainst reason, shou'd one such a treasure engross; he who knows not the joys, that attend such a choice, shou'd resign to another that does. _the cruel fair requited, written by_ j. r. _set by mr._ james hart. [music] when wit and beauty meet in one, that acts an amorous part; what nymph its mighty power can shun, or 'scape a wounded heart: those potent, wondrous potent charms, where-e'er they bless a swain; he needs not sleep with empty arms, he needs not sleep with empty arms, nor dread severe disdain. _astrea_ saw the shepherds bleed, regardless of their pain; unmov'd she hear'd their oaten reed, they dance and sung in vain; at length _amintor_ did appear, that miracle of man; he pleas'd her eyes and charm'd her ear, he pleas'd her eyes and charm'd her ear, she lov'd and call'd him pan. but he as tho' design'd by fate, revenger of the harms, which others suffer'd from her hate, rifl'd and left her charms; then nymphs no longer keep in pain, a plain well-meaning heart; lest you shou'd joyn for such disdain, lest you shou'd joyn for such disdain, in poor _astrea's_ smart. _a_ song, _sung at the_ theatre-royal, _in the play call'd_ alphonso _king of_ naples. _set by mr._ eagles. [music] when _sylvia_ was kind, and love play'd in her eyes, we thought it no morning till _sylvia_ did rise; of _sylvia_ the hills and the vallies all rang, for she was the subject of every song. but now, oh how little her glories do move, that us'd to inflame us, with raptures of love; thy rigour, oh _sylvia_, will shorten thy reign, and make our bright goddess a mortal again. love heightens our joys, he's the ease of our care, a spur to the valiant, a crown to the fair; oh seize his soft wings then before 'tis too late, or cruelty quickly will hasten thy fate. 'tis kindness, my _sylvia_, 'tis kindness alone, will add to thy lovers, and strengthen thy throne; in love, as in empire, tyrannical sway, will make loyal subjects forget to obey. _the_ shepherd's _complaint. set by mr._ williams. [music] what, love a crime, inhumane fair? repeal that rash decree, as well may pious anthems bear; the name of blasphemy: 'tis bleeding hearts and weeping eyes, uphold your sexes pride; nor could you longer tyrannize, my fetters laid aside. then from your haughty vision wake, and listen to my moan; tho' you refuse me for my sake, yet pity for your own; for know proud shepherdess you owe, the victim you despise, more to the strictness of my vow, than glories of your eyes. _a_ song _in the_ opera _call'd_ the fairy queen. _sung by mrs._ butler. _set by mr._ h. purcell. [music] when i have often heard young maids complaining, that when men promise most they most deceive; then i thought none of them worthy my gaining. and what they swore i would never believe: but when so humbly one made his addresses, with looks so soft, and with language so kind, i thought it a sin to refuse his caresses, nature o'ercame, and i soon chang'd my mind. should he employ all his arts in deceiving, stretch his invention, and quite crack his brain, i find such charms, such true joys in believing, i'll have the pleasure, let him have the pain: if he proves perjur'd, i shall not be cheated, he may deceive himself, but never me; 'tis what i look for, and shan't be defeated, for i'm as false, and inconstant as he. _a_ song. _the words and tune by mr._ edward keen. _sung by mrs._ willis, _in the play call'd_ the heiress: _or_, the salamanca doctor. [music] _cÆlia's_ bright beauty all others transcend, like lovers sprightly goddess she's flippant and gay; her rival admirers in crouds do attend, to her their devoirs and addresses to pay: pert gaudy coxcombs the fair one adore, grave dons of the law and quere prigs of the gown; close misers who brood o'er their treasure in store, and heroes for plundring of modern renown, but men of plunder can ne'er get her under, and misers all women despise, she baulks the pert fops in the midst of their hopes, and laughs at the grave and precise. next she's caress'd by a musical crew, shrill singing and fidling, beaus warbles o'th' flute, and poets whom poverty still will pursue, that's a just cause for rejecting their suit: impudent fluters the nymph does abhor, and lovers with fiddle at neck she disdains; for these thought to have her for whistling for, they courting with guts shew'd defect in their brains. and to the pretender to make her surrender, by singing no favour she'll show; for she'll not make choice of a shrill capons voice, for a politick reason you know. _a_ song. [music: the king is gone to _oxon_ town, with all his might and main a; the nobles they attending on, with all their gallant train a: the may'r of the town in his furr gown, gave the king such a thing, the like was never seen; _a pair of gloves, i say a pair of gloves_, made of the stags good leather: _a pair of gloves i say, a pair of gloves_, to keep his hands from the weather; nay, some do say they gave him gold, _that's a lye, then said i_, as soon as i heard it told; for why shou'd they go give their gold away, to him that has so much of his own a?] _a_ song _in_ love's a jest. _set by mr._ john eccles. _sung by mrs._ hudson. [music] mortal's learn your lives to measure, not by length of time, but pleasure; now the hours invite comply, whilst you idly pass they flye: blest whilst a nimble pace they keep, but in torment, in torment when they creep. mortals learn your lives to measure, not by length of time, but pleasure; soon your spring must have a fall, losing youth is losing all; then you'll ask, but none will give, and may linger, but not live. _a_ song, _in the play call'd_ self-conceit: _or_, the mother made a property. _set by mr._ john eccles. _sung by mrs._ bowman. [music] oh! the mighty pow'r of love, what art against such force can move; the harmless swain is ever blest, beneath some silent, shady grove; until some nymph invade his breast, and disapprove his eager love. oh! the mighty power of love, what art against such force can move; the greatest hero who in arms, has gain'd a thousand victories: submits to _cælia's_ brighter charms, and dreads a killing from her eyes. _a_ song, _sung by mrs._ hudson, _in the play call'd_ love triumphant: _or_, nature will prevail. _set by mr._ john eccles. what state of life can be so blest, as love that warms a lover's breast; two souls in one the same desire, to grant the bliss and to require: but if in heaven a hell we find, 'tis all from thee, oh jealousy! oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! jealousy, thou tyrant, tyrant jealousy, thou tyrant, jealousy, oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! jealousy, oh! oh! oh! jealousy, thou tyrant of the mind. all other ills tho' sharp they prove, serve to refine and sweeten love; in absence or unkind disdain, sweet hope relieves the lovers pain: but oh! no cure but death we find, to set us free from jealousy, oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! _&c._ false in thy glass all objects are, some set too near, and some too far; thou art the fire of endless night, the fire that burns and gives no light, all torments of the damn'd we find, in only thee, oh jealousy! oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! _&c._ _a_ scotch song. _set by mr._ robert cox. [music] when _jockey_ first i saw, my soul was charm'd, to see the bonny lad so blith, so blith and gay; my heart did beat it being alarm'd, that i to _jockey_ nought, nought could say: at last i courage took and passion quite forsook, and told the bonny lad his charms i felt; he then did smile with a pleasing look, and told me _jenny_ in his arms, his arms should melt. _a song. sung by mrs._ temple. _set by mr._ j. clark. [music] i seek no more to shady coverts, _jockey's_ eyn are all my joy; beauty's there i ken, that cannot, must not, shall not, steal away: what wou'd _jockey_ now do to me, surely you're to me unkind; ise ne'er see you, nay you fly me, yet are ne'er from out my mind. tell me why 'tis thus you use me, take me quickly to your arms; where in blisses blithly basking, each may rival others charms: oh but fye, my _jockey_ pray now, what d'ye, do not, let me go; o i vow you will undoe me, what to do i do not know. _a_ song. _set by mr._ phill. hart. [music] tho' i love and she knows it, she cares not, she regards not my passion at all; but to tell me she hates me she spares not, as often as on her i call: 'tis her pleasure to see me in pain, 'tis her pain to grant my desire; then if ever i love her again, may i never, never, never, never, may i never, be free from love's fire. mirtillo. _a_ song. _set by mr._ tho. clark. [music] _mirtillo_, whilst you patch your face, by nature form'd so fair, we know each spot conceals a grace, and wish, and wish to see it bare: but since our wish you've gratifi'd, we find, we find, 'twas rashly made, and that those spots were but to hide, to hide excess of lustre laid: and that those spots were but to hide, to hide excess of lustre laid. _the rambling_ rake. [music] having spent all my coin, upon women and wine, i went to the c----h out of spite; but what the priest said, is quite out of my head, i resolv'd not to edify by't. while he open'd his text, i was plaguily vext, to see such a sly canting crew, of _satan's_ disciples, with p----r books and b----s, enough to have made a man spew. all the women i view'd, both religious and lewd, from the sable top-knots to the scarlets; but a wager i'll lay, that at a full play, the house does not swarm so with harlots. lady _f----_ there sits, almost out of her wits, 'twixt lust and devotion debating; she's as vicious as fair, and has more business there, than to hear mr. _tickle-text's_ prating. madam _l----l_ saw, with her daughters-in-law, whom she offers to sale ev'ry sunday; in the midst of her prayers, she'll negociate affairs, and make assignations for monday. next a lady much fam'd, therefore must not be nam'd, 'cause she'll give you no trouble in teaching; she has a very fine book, but does ne'er in it look, nor regard neither praying nor preaching. there's a _baronet's_ daughter, her own mother taught her, by precept and practical notion; that to wear gaudy cloaths, and to ogle the beaus, was at church two sure signs of devotion. from the corner o' th' square, comes a hopeful young pair, religious as they see occasion; but if patches and paint, be true signs of a saint, we've no reason to doubt their damnation. when the sermon was done, he blest ev'ry one, and they like good christians retir'd; tho' they view'd ev'ry face, each head and each dress, yet each one her self most admir'd. i had view'd all the rest, but the parson had blest, with his benediction the people; so i ran to the crown, least the church should fall down, and beat out my brains with the steeple. _the_ airy _old woman_. [music] you guess by my wither'd face, and eyes no longer shining; that i can't dance with a grace, nor keep my pipes from whining: yet i am still gay and bold, to be otherwise were a folly; methinks my blood is grown cold, i'll warm it then thus and be jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly, _&c._ methinks my blood is grown cold, grown cold, grown cold, grown cold, _&c._ i'll warm it then thus and be jolly. i find by the slighting beau's, that nature is declining; yet will i not knit my brows, nor end my days in pining: let other dames fret and scold, as they pass to the stygian ferry; you see, though i am grown old, my temper is youthful and merry, merry, merry, merry, merry, _&c._ you see though i am grown old, grown old, grown old, grown old, _&c._ my temper is youthful and merry. _a_ song _set by mr._ anthony young. [music] i try'd in parks and plays to find, an object to appease my mind; but still in vain it does appear, since fair _hyrtuilia_ is not there: in vain alass i hope for ease, since none but she alone can please. _a_ song; _the words by captain_ danvers, _set by mr._ t. willis. [music] forgive me _cloe_ if i dare your conduct disapprove; the gods have made you wond'rous fair, not to disdain, but love; those nice pernicious forms despise, that cheat you of your bliss; let love instruct you to be wise, whilst youth and beauty is. too late you will repent the time, you lose by your disdain; the slaves you scorn now in your prime, you'll ne'er retrieve again: but when those charms shall once decay, and lovers disappear; despair and envy shall repay, your being now severe. _a_ song _in the_ rival sisters, _set by mr._ henry purcell, _sung by miss_ cross. [music] how happy, how happy is she, how happy, how happy is she, that early, that early her passion begins, and willing, and willing with love to agree, does not stay till she comes to her teens: then, then she's all pure and chast, then, then she's all pure and chast, like angels her smiles to be priz'd; pleasure is seen cherub fac'd, and nature appears, and nature appears undisguis'd. from twenty to thirty, and then set up for a lover in vain; by that time we study how men, may be wrack'd with neglect and disdain: love dwells where we meet with desire, desire which nature has given: she's a fool then that feeling the fire, begins not to warm at eleven. _the three merry travellers, who paid their shot wherever they came, without ever a stiver of money._ [music] there was three travellers, travellers three, _with a hey down, ho down, lanktre down derry_, and they would go travel the _north_ country, _without ever a stiver of money_. they travelled _east_, and they travelled _west_, _with a hey down_, &c. wherever they came still they drank of the best, _without ever_, &c. at length by good fortune they came to an inn, _with a hey down_, &c. and they were as merry as e'er they had been, _without ever_, &c. a jolly young widdow did smiling appear, _with a hey down, ho down, lanktre down derry_, who drest them a banquet of delicate cheer, _without ever a penny of money_. both chicken and sparrow-grass she did provide, _with a hey down, ho down, lanktre down derry_, you're welcome kind gentlemen, welcome she cry'd, _without ever a stiver of money_. they called for liquor, both beer, ale, and wine, _with a hey down_, &c. and every thing that was curious and fine, _without ever_, &c. they drank to their hostess a merry full bowl, _with a hey down_, &c. she pledg'd them in love, like a generous soul, _without ever_, &c. the hostess, her maid, and cousin all three, _with a hey down_, &c. they kist and was merry, as merry cou'd be, _without ever_, &c. full bottles and glasses replenish'd the board, _with a hey down_, &c. no liquors was wanting the house could afford, _without ever_, &c. when they had been merry good part of the day, _with a hey down_, &c. they called their hostess to know what's to pay, _without ever_, &c. there's thirty good shillings, and six pence, she cry'd, _with a hey down_, &c. they told her that she should be soon satisfy'd, _without ever_, &c. the handsomest man of the three up he got; _with a hey down, ho down, lanktre down derry_, he laid her on her back, and paid her the shot, _without ever a stiver of money_. the middlemost man to her cousin he went, _with a hey down, ho down, lanktre down derry_, she being handsome, he gave her content, _without ever a stiver of money_. the last man of all he took up with the maid, _with a hey down_, &c. and thus the whole shot it was lovingly paid, _without ever_, &c. the hostess, the cousin, and servant, we find, _with a hey down_, &c. made courtesies, and thank'd them for being so kind, _without ever_, &c. the hostess said, welcome kind gentleman all, _with a hey down_, &c. if you chance to come this way be pleased to call, _without ever_, &c. then taking their leaves they went merrily out, _with a hey down, ho down, lanktre down, derry_, and they're gone for to travel the nation about, _without ever a stiver of money_. _the maids_ conjuring _book_. [music] a young man lately in our town, he went to bed one night; he had no sooner lay'd him down, but was troubled with a sprite: so vigorously the spirit stood, let him do what he can, sure then he said it must be lay'd, by woman, not by man. a handsome maid did undertake, and into bed she leap'd; and to allay the spirits power, full close to him she crep'd: she having such a guardian care, her office to discharge; she open'd wide her conjuring book, and lay'd the leaves at large. her office she did well perform, within a little space; then up she rose, and down he lay, and durst not shew his face; she took her leave, and away she went, when she had done the deed; saying, if't chance to come again, then send for me with speed. _a_ song. [music] all joy to mortals, joy and mirth, eternal _io's_ sing; the gods of love descend to earth, their darts have lost their sting. the youth shall now complain no more, on _sylvia's_ needless scorn; but she shall love if he adore, and melt when he shall burn. the nymph no longer shall be shy, but leave the jilting road; and _daphne_ now no more shall fly, the wounded painted god. but all shall be serene and fair, no sad complaints of love, shall fill the gentle whispering air, no ecchoing sighs, the grove. beneath the shades young _strephon_ lies, of all his wish possess'd; gazing on _sylvia's_ charming eyes, whose soul is there confess'd. all soft and sweet the maid appears, with looks that know no art; and though she yields with trembling fears, she yields with all her heart. _the_ presbyters _gill_. [music] hang the presbyters gill, bring a pint of sack, _will_, more orthodox of the two; though a slender dispute, will strike the elf mute, he's one of the honester crew. in a pint there's small heart, sirrah, bring us a quart, there's substance and vigour met; 'twill hold us in play, some part of the day, but we'll sink him before sun-set. the daring old pottle, does now bid us battle, let's try what his strength can do; keep your ranks, and your files, and for all his wiles, we'll tumble him down stairs too. the stout brested _lombard_, his brains ne'er incumbred, with drinking of gallons three; _trycongius_ was named, and by _cæsar_ famed, who dubbed him knight cap-a-pee. if then honour be in't, why a pox should be stint, our selves of the fulness it bears? h'has less wit than an ape in the blood of a grape, will not plunge himself o'er head and ears. then summon the gallon, a stout foe, and a tall one, and likely to hold us to't; keep but coyn in your purse, the word is disburse, i'll warrant he'll sleep at your foot. see the bold foe appears, may he fall that him fears, keep you but close order, and then, we will give him the rout, be he never so stout, and prepare for his rallying agen. let's drain the whole cellar, pipes, buts, and the dweller, if the wine floats not the faster; _will_, when thou do'st slack us, by warrant from _bacchus_, we will cane thy tun-belly'd master. _the good_ fellow. [music] a pox on the times, let 'em go as they will, tho' the taxes are grown so heavy; our hearts are our own, and shall be so still, drink about, my boys, and be merry: let no man despair, but drive away care, and drown all our sorrow in claret; we'll never repine, so they give us good wine, let 'em take all our dross, we can spare it. we value not chink, unless to buy drink, or purchase us innocent pleasure; when 'tis gone we ne'er fret, so we liquor can get, for mirth of it self is a treasure: no miser can be, so happy as we, tho' compass'd with riches he wallow; day and night he's in fear, and ne'er without care, while nothing disturbs the good fellow. come fill up the glass, and about let it pass, for nature doth vacuums decline! down the spruce formal ass, that's afraid of his face, we'll drink 'till our noses do _ph[oe]bus_ out-shine: while we've plenty of this, we can ne'er do amiss, 'tis an antidote 'gainst our ruin; and the lad that drinks most, with honour may boast, he fears neither death, nor undoing. _the jovial_ prisoner, _by_ s. p. [music] a pox on such fools! let the scoundrels rail, let 'em boast of their liberty; they're no freer than we, for the world's a jayl, and all men prisoners be. the drunkard's confin'd to his claret, the miser to his store; the wit to his muse and a garret, and the cully-cit to his whore. the parson's confin'd to his piggs, the lawyer to hatred and strife; the fidler to's borees and jiggs, and the quack to his glister-pipe. the church-man's confin'd to be civil, the quaker's a prisoner too light; the papist is bound by the devil, and the puritan's fetter'd with spite. since old _adam's_ race are all prisoners like us, let us merrily quaff and sing; z----s why shou'd we pine for liberty thus, when we're each of's as free as a king. _a_ song. _set by mr._ henry purcell. [music] _phillis_, i can ne'er forgive it, nor i think, shall e're out-live it; thus to treat me so severely, who have always lov'd sincerely. _damon_, you so fondly cherish, whilst poor i, alass! may perish; i that love, which he did never, me you slight, and him you favour. love given over: _being a young lady's reply to her parents, who would have forc'd her to marry one she had an aversion against._ [music] as cupid many ages past, went out to take the air; and on the rosy morning feast, he met _ophelia_ there. a while he gaz'd, a while survey'd her shape and every part; but as his eyes run o'er the maid, hers reach'd his little heart. his quiver straight and bow he took, and bent it for a flight; and then by chance she cast a look, which spoil'd his purpose quite. disarm'd he knew not what to do, nor how to crown his love; at last resolv'd, away he flew, another shape to prove. a lustful satyr straight return'd, in hopes his form wou'd take: for many nymphs for them have burn'd, burn'd 'cause they could not speak. _ophelia_ had no sooner spy'd, his godship, goat and man; but loudly for assistance cry'd, and fleetly homeward ran. perplex'd at her affright, but more at's own defeat, he shook the monster off; then fled before, and straight man's aspect took. he smil'd, intreated, ly'd, and vow'd, nay, offer'd her a sum; and grew importunate and rude, as she drew nearer home. at last when tears, nor ought cou'd move, he thus bespoke the fair; know cruel maid, i'm god of love, and can command despair. yet dame to sue, oh! bless me then, as you regard your ease; for i am king of gods and men, i give and banish peace. or be thou love, or be thou hate, enrag'd _ophelia_ swore; i'll never change my virgin state, nor ever see thee more. exploded love resisted so, in pity to mankind; his arrows broke, and burnt his bow, and left his name behind. _a_ song. [music] lay by your pleading, the law lies a bleeding, burn all your studies down, and throw away your reading; small power the world has, and doth afford us, not half so many privileges as the sword does; it fosters our masters, it plaisters disasters, and makes the servants quickly greater than their masters; it ventures, it enters, it circles, it centres, and sets a prentice free despite of his indenters. this takes up all things, and sets up small things, this masters money, tho' money masters all things. it's not in season, to talk of reason, or count it loyalty, when the sword will have it treason: this conquers a crown too, the cloak and the gown too, this sets up a presbyter, and this doth pull him down too; this subtile deceiver, turn'd bonnet into beaver, down drops a bishop, and up steps a weaver. it's this makes a lay-man, to preach and to pray man, and this made a lord of him, which was before a drayman; for from this dull-pit, of _saxbey's_ pulpit, this brought a holy iron-monger to the pulpit: no gospel can guide it, no law can decide it, no church or state can debate it, 'till the sword hath sanctify'd it; such pitiful things be, happier than kings be, this brought in the heraldry of _thimblesby_ and _slingsby_. down goes the law-trix, for from this matrix, sprang holy _hewson's_ power, and tumbl'd down st. _patrick's_. it batter'd the gun-kirk, so did it the dum-kirk, that he is fled and gone to the devil in _dunkirk_; in _scotland_ this waster, did work such disaster, this brought the money back for which they sold their master: this frighted the _flemming_, and made him so beseeming, that he doth never think of his lost lands redeeming. but he that can tower, over him that is lower, would be counted but a fool to give away his power: take books and rent them, who would invent them, when as the sword replys _negatur argumentur_: the grand college butlers, must vail to the sutlers, there's not a library like to the cutlers; the blood that is spilt, sir, hath gain'd all the guilt, sir, thus have you seen me run the sword up to the hilt, sir. _queen_ dido. [music] when _dido_ was a _carthage_ queen, she lov'd a _trojan_ knight; who sail'd about from coast to coast, of metal brave in fight: as they hunting rid, a shower, did on their heads with fury pour, drove 'em to a lonely cave, where _Æneas_ with his charms, caught fair _dido_ in his arms, and got what he would have. then _dido hymen's_ rites forgot, her love was won in hast; her honour she consider'd not, but in her breast him plac'd; now when their loves were just began, great _jove_ sent down his winged son, to fright _Æneas'_ sleep: make him by the break of day, from queen _dido_ steal away, which caus'd her wail and weep. poor _dido_ wept, but what of that? the gods would have it so; _Æneas_ nothing did amiss, when he was forc'd to go: cease lovers, cease your vows to keep, with your true loves, but let 'em weep, 'tis folly to be true; let this comfort serve your turn, that tho' wretched _dido's_ mourn, you'll daily court anew. _false_ phillis, _set by mr._ james hart. [music] since _phillis_ swears inconstancy, then i'll e'en do so too; i careless am as well as she, she values not her vow. to sigh, to languish, and protest, let feeble fops approve; the women's way i like the best, enjoyment is their love. when i my _phillis_ do embrace, there's none can happier be; but when she's gone, the next fair face, is _phillis_ then to me. i find her absence cools desire, as well as her disdain; when hope denys to feed my fire, despair shall ease my pain. _a_ song. [music] blush not redder than the morning, though the virgins give you warning; sigh not at the chance befel you, though they smile, and dare not tell you; _sigh not at_, &c. maids like turtles, love the cooing, bill and murmur in their wooing; thus like you they start and tremble, and their troubled joys dissemble: _thus like you_, &c. grasp the pleasure while 'tis coming, though your beauty's now a blooming; lest old time our joys should sever, ah! ah! they part, they part for ever: _lest old time_, &c. _the power of_ beauty. [music] in a flowry myrtle _grove_, the solitary scene of love, on beds of vi'lets, all the day, the charming _floriana_ lay; the little _cupids_ hover'd in the air, they peep'd and smil'd, and thought their mother there. _ph[oe]bus_ delay'd his course a while, charm'd with the spell of such a smile, whilst weary _plough-men_ curs'd the stay, of the too _uxorious_ day: the little _cupids_ hover'd in the air, they peep'd and smil'd, and thought their mother there. but thus the _nymph_ began to chide, "that eye, you owe the world beside, you fix on me", then with a frown she sent her drooping lover down; with modest blushes from the _grove_ she fled, painting the evening with unusual red. _the_ hunt. [music] some in the town go betimes to the _downs_, to pursue the fearful hare; some in the dark love to hunt in a _park_, for to chace all the deer that are there: some love to see the faulcon to flee, with a joyful rise against the air; but all my delight is a cunny in the night, when she turns up her silver hair. when she is beset, with a bow, gun, or net, and finding no shelter for to cover her; she falls down flat, or in a tuft does squat, 'till she lets the hunter get over her: with her breast she does butt, and she bubs up her scut, when the bullets fly close by her ear; she strives not to escape, but she mumps like an ape, and she turns up, _&c._ the ferret he goes in, through flaggs thick and thin, whilst mettle pursueth his chace; the cunny she shows play, and in the best of her way, like a cat she does spit in his face: tho' she lies in the dust, she fears not his nest, with her full bound up sir, career; with the strength that she shows, she gapes at the nose, and she turns up, _&c._ the sport is so good, that in town or in wood, in a hedge, or a ditch you may do it; in kitchen or in hall, in a barn or in a stall, or wherever you please you may go to it: so pleasing it is that you can hardly miss, of so rich game in all our shire; for they love so to play, that by night or by day, they will turn up their silver hair. bridal _night. to the foregoing tune._ come from the temple, away to the bed, as the merchant transports home his treasure; be not so coy lady, since we are wed, 'tis no sin to taste of the pleasure: then come let us be blith, merry and free, upon my life all the waiters are gone; and 'tis so, that they know where you go, say not so, for i mean to make bold with my own. what is it to me, if our hands joyned be, if our bodies are still kept asunder: it shall not be said, there goes a married maid, indeed we will have no such wonder: therefore let's embrace, there's none sees thy face, the bride-maids that waited are gone; none can spy how you lye, ne'er deny, but say ay, for i mean to make bold with my own. sweet love do not frown, but pull off thy gown, 'tis a garment unfit for the night; some say that black, hath a relishing smack, i had rather be dealing with white: then be not afraid, for you are not betray'd, since we two are together alone; i invite you this night, to do me right in my delight, for i mean to make bold with my own. then come let us kiss, and tast of our bliss, which brave lords and ladies enjoy'd; if all maids should be of the humour of thee, generations would soon be destroy'd: then where were the joys, the girls and the boys, would'st live in the world all alone; don't destroy, but enjoy, seem not coy for a toy, for indeed i'll make bold with my own. prithee begin, don't delay but unpin, for my humour i cannot prevent it; you are so streight lac'd, and your top-knot so fast, undo it, or i straitway will rent it: or to end all the strife, i'll cut it with a knife, 'tis too long to stay 'till it's undone; let thy wast be unlac'd, and in hast be embrac'd, for i long to make bold with my own. as thou art fair, and sweeter than the air, that dallies on _july's_ brave roses; now let me be to thy garden a key, that the flowers of virgins incloses: and i will not be too rough unto thee, for my nature to mildness is prone; do no less than undress, and unlace all apace, for this night i'll make bold with my own. _a toping_ song. [music] i am a jolly toper, i am a raged soph, known by the pimples in my face, with taking bumpers off, and a toping we will go, we'll go, we'll go, and a toping we will go. come let's sit down together, and take our fill of beer, away with all disputes, for we'll have no wrangling here, and a toping, _&c._ with clouds of tobacco we'll make our noddles clear, we'll be as great as princes, when our heads are full of beer, and a toping, _&c._ with juggs, muggs, and pitchers, and bellarmines of stale, dash'd lightly with a little, a very little ale, and a toping, _&c._ a fig for the _spaniard_, and for the king of _france_, and heaven preserve our juggs, and muggs, and q----n from all mischance, and a toping, _&c._ against the presbyterians, pray give me leave to rail, who ne'er had thirsted for kings blood, had they been drunk with stale, and a toping, _&c._ and against the low-church saints, who slily play their part, who rail at the dissenters, yet love them in their heart, and a toping, _&c._ here's a health to the queen, let's bumpers take in hand, and may prince _g----'s_ roger grow stiff again and stand, and a toping, _&c._ oh how we toss about the never-failing cann, we drink and piss, and piss and drink, and drink to piss again and a toping, _&c._ oh that my belly it were a tun of stall, my cock were turn'd into a tap, to run when i did call, and a toping, _&c._ of all sorts of topers, a soph is far the best, for 'till he can neither go nor stand, by _jove_ he's ne'er at rest, and a toping, _&c._ we fear no wind or weather, when good liquor dwells within, and since a soph does live so well, then who would be a king, and a toping, _&c._ then dead drunk we'll march boys, and reel into our tombs, that jollier sophs (if such their be) may come and take our rooms, sir and a toping may they go, _&c._ _sir_ john johnson's _farewell, by_ jo. hains. [music] all christians that have ears to hear, and hearts inclin'd to pity; some of you all bestow one tear, upon my mournful ditty: in _queen-street_ did an heiress live, whose downfall when i sing; 'twill make the very stones to grieve, god prosper long our king. for her a _scotish_ knight did die, was ever the like seen; i shame to tell place, how, or why, and so god bless the queen: some say indeed she swore a rape, but god knows who was wrong'd; for he that did it did escape, and he did not was hang'd. some say another thing beside, if true? it was a vice; that _campbell_ when she was his bride, did trouble her but thrice: 'twas this the young girls choler mov'd, and in a rage she swore; e'er she'd be a wife but three times lov'd, she'd sooner be a whore. but don't you pity now her case, was forc'd to send for surgeon, to show the man that very place, where once she was a virgin. parents take warning by her fall, when girls are in their teens; to marry them soon, or they will all, know what the business means. for girls like nuts (excuse my rhimes) at bottom growing brown; if you don't gather them betimes, will of themselves fall down: god bless king _william_, and queen _mary_, and plenty and peace advance; and hang up those wish the contrary, and then a fig for _france_. _a_ song, _set by mr._ king. banish my _lydia_ these sad thoughts, why sets thou musing so; to hear the ugly rail at faults, they wou'd, they wou'd, but cannot do: for let the guilt be what it will. so small, so small account they bear; that none yet thought it worth their while, on such, on such to be severe, on such, on such to be severe. with far more reason thou may'st pine, thy self for being fair; for hadst thou but less glorious been, thou of no faults wou'dst hear: so the great light that shines from far, has had its spots set down; while many a little useless star, has not been tax'd with one. _a_ song. _set by mr._ henry purcell. [music] love's pow'r in my heart shall find no compliance, i'll stand to my guard, and bid open defiance: to arms i will muster my reason and senses, _ta ra ra ra, ta ra ra ra_, a war now commences. keep, keep a strict watch, and observe ev'ry motion, your care to his cunning exactly proportion; fall on, he gives ground, let him never recover, _victoria! victoria!_ the battle is over. _a_ song. _set by mr._ james hart. [music] honest shepher'd, since you're poor, think of loving me no more, take advice in time, give o're your solicitations: nature does in vain dispense, to your vertue, courage, sense, wealth can only influence, a woman's inclinations. what fond nymph can e'er be kind, to a swain, but rich in mind, if as well she does not find gold within his coffers? gold alone does scorn remove, gold alone incites to love, gold can most perswasive prove, and make the fairest offers. _the_ shepherd's _wooing of fair_ dulcina. [music] as at noon _dulcina_ rested, in her sweet and shady bow'r, came a shepherd and requested, in her lap to sleep an hour; but from her look a wound he took, so deep that for a further boon, the swain he prays, whereto she says, forgo me now, come to me soon. but in vain she did conjure him, for to leave her presence so; having a thousand means to allure him, and but one to let him go: where lips invite, and eyes delight, and cheeks as fresh as rose in _june_, perswades to stay, what boot to say, forgo me now, come to me soon. words whose hoops have now injoyned, him to let _dulcina_ sleep; could a man's love be confined, or a maid her promise keep? no, for her wast he held her fast, as she was constant to her tune; and she speaks, for _cupid's_ sake forgo me, _&c._ he demands what time and leisure, can there be more fit than now; she says men may say their pleasure, yet i of it do not allow: the sun's clear light shineth more bright, quoth he, more fairer than the moon: for her to praise, she loves, she says, forgo me, _&c._ but no promise, nor profession, from his hands could purchase scope; who would sell the sweet possession, of such beauty for a hope; or for the sight of lingring night, forgo the pleasant joys of noon, tho' none so fair, her speeches were, forgo me, _&c._ now at last agreed these lovers, she was fair, and he was young, if you'll believe me i will tell you, true love fixed lasteth long: he said my dear and only phear, bright ph[oe]bus beams out-shin'd the moon; _dulcina_ prays, and to him says, forgo me now, come to me soon. _the second part._ day was spent and night approached, _venus_ fair was lovers friend, she intreated bright _apollo_, that his steeds their race should end: he could not say the goddess nay, but granted love's fair queen her boon; the shepherd came to his fair dame, forgo me now, come to me soon. sweet (he said) as i did promise, i am now return'd again; long delay you know breeds danger, and to lovers breadeth pain: the nymph said then, above all men, still welcome shepherd morn and noon, the shepherd prays, _dulcina_ says, shepherd i doubt thou'rt come too soon. when that bright _aurora_ blushed, came the shepherd to his dear; pretty birds most sweetly warbled, and the noon approached near: yet still away the nymph did say, the shepherd he fell in a swoon; at length she said, be not afraid, forgo me, _&c._ with grief of heart the shepherd hasted up the mountains to his flocks; then he took a reed and piped, eccho sounded thro' the rocks: thus did he play, and wish'd the day, were spent, and night were come e'er noon; the silent night, love's delight, i'll go to fair _dulcina_ soon. beauties darling, fair _dulcina_, like to _venus_ for her love, spent away the day in passion, mourning like the turtle-dove: melodiously, notes low and high, she warbled forth this doleful tune; oh come again sweet shepherd swain, thou can'st not be with us too soon. when as _thetis_ in her place, had receiv'd the prince of light; came in _coridon_ the shepherd, to his love and heart's delight: then _pan_ did play, the wood-nymphs they did skip and dance to hear the tune; _hymen_ did say 'tis holy-day, forgo me now, come to me soon. _the scolding wife._ [music] suppose a man does all he can, to unslave himself from a scolding wife; he can't get out, but hops about, like a marry'd bird in the cage of life: she on mischief bent is ne'er content, which makes the poor man cry out, rigid fate, marriage state, no reprieve but the grave, oh 'tis hard condition. come i'll tell you how this wife to bow, and quickly bring her to her last; your senses please, indulge your ease, but resist no joy and each humour taste, then let her squal, and tear and bawl, and with whining cry her eyes out, take a flask, double flask, whip it up, sip it up, that's your physician. _a_ song. [music] we merry wives of _windsor_, whereof you make your play, and act us on your stages, in _london_ day by day: alass it doth not hurt us, we care not what you do; for all you scoff, we'll sing and laugh, and yet be honest too. alass we are good fellows, we hate dishonesty; we are not like your city dames, in sport of venery: we scorn to punk, or to be drunk, but this we dare to do; to sit and chat, laugh and be fat, but yet be honest too. but should you know we _windsor_ dames, are free from haughty pride: and hate the tricks you wenches have, in _london_ and _bankside_: but we can spend, and money lend, and more than that we'll do, we'll sit and chat, laugh and be fat, and yet be honest too. it grieves us much to see your wants, of things that we have store, in forests wide and parks beside, and other places more: pray do not scorn the _windsor_ horn, that is both fair and new; altho' you scold, we'll sing and laugh, and yet be honest too. and now farewel unto you all, we have no more to say; be sure you imitate us right, in acting of your play: if that you miss, we'll at you hiss, as others us'd to do; and at you scoff, and sing and laugh, and yet be honest too. _the_ battle-royal. [music] a dean and prebendary, had once a new vagary, and were at doubtful strife sir, who led the better life sir, and was the better man: the dean he said that truly, since bluff was so unruly, he'd prove it to his face, sir, that he had the more grace, sir, and so the fight began. when preb. reply'd like thunder, and roar'd out, 'twas no wonder, for gods the dean had three, sir, and more by two than he, sir, since he had got but one; now while these two were raging, and in disputes engaging, the master of the charter, said both had got a tartar, for gods that there were none. for all the books of _moses_, were nothing but supposes, and he deserv'd rebuke, sir, who wrote the pentateuch, sir, 'twas nothing but a sham; and as for father _adam_, with mrs. _eve_ his madam, and what the serpent spoke, sir, was nothing but a joke, sir, and well invented flam. thus in this battle royal, as none would take denial, the dame for which they strove, sir, could neither of them love, sir, for all had giv'n offence; she therefore slily waiting, left all three fools a prating, and being in a fright, sir, religion took her flight, sir, and ne'er was heard on since. _the saint turn'd sinner, or the dissenting parson's text under the_ quaker's _petticoats. to the foregoing tune._ you friends to reformation, give ear to my relation, for i shall now declare, sir, before you are aware, sir, the matter very plain, the matter very plain; a gospel cushion thumper, who dearly lov'd a bumper, and something else beside, sir, if he is not bely'd, sir, this was a holy guide, sir, for the dissenting train. and for to tell you truly, his flesh was so unruly, he could not for his life, sir, pass by the draper's wife, sir, the spirit was so faint, _&c._ this jolly handsome quaker, as he did overtake her, she made his mouth to water, and thought long to be at her, such sin is no great matter, accounted by a saint. says he _my pretty creature_, _your charming handsome feature_, _has set me all on fire_, _you know what i desire_, _there is no harm to love_; quoth she if that's your notion, to preach up such devotion, such hopeful guides as you, sir, will half the world undo, sir, a halter is your due, sir, if you such tricks approve. the parson still more eager, than lustful _turk_ or _neger_, took up her lower garment, and said there was no harm in't, according to the text; for _solomon_ more wiser, than any dull adviser, had many hundred misses, to crown his royal wishes, and why shou'd such as this is, make you so sadly vext. the frighted female quaker, perceiv'd what he would make her, was forc'd to call the watch in, and stop what he was hatching, to spoil the light within, _&c._ they came to her assistance, and she did make resistance, against the priest and devil, the actors of all evil, who were so grand uncivil, to tempt a saint to sin. the parson then confounded, to see himself surrounded, with mob and sturdy watch-men, whose business 'tis to catch men, in lewdness with a punk, _&c._ he made some faint excuses, and all to hide abuses, in taking up the linnen, against the saints opinion, within her soft dominion, alledging he was drunk. but tho' he feigned reeling, they made him pay for feeling, and lugg'd him to a prison, to bring him to his reason, which he had lost before; and thus we see how preachers, that should be gospel-teachers, how they are strangely blinded, and are so fleshly minded, like carnal men inclined, to lye with any whore. _a_ song. _set by mr._ damascene. beauty, like kingdoms not for one, was made to be possest alone; by bounteous nature 'twas design'd, to be the joy of human-kind. so the bright planet of the day, doth unconfin'd his beams display; and generous heat to all dispence, which else would dye without that influence. nor is your mighty empire less, on you depends man's happiness; if you but frown, we cease to be, and only live by your decree. but sure a tyrant cannot rest, nor harbour in so fair a breast; in monsters cruelty we find, an angel's face, must have an angel's mind. _the_ ballad _of the true_ trojan. [music: _troy_ had a breed of brave stout men, yet _greece_ made shift to rout her; cause each man drank as much as ten, and thence grew ten times stouter: tho' _hector_ was a _trojan_ true as ever pist 'gain wall sir, _achilles_ bang'd him black and blue, for he drank more than all sir, for he drank more, for he drank more, for he drank more than all sir, for he drank more, for he drank more, for he drank more than all sir.] let _bacchus_ be our god of war, we shall fear nothing then boys; we'll drink all dead, and lay 'em to bed, and if they wake not conquered, we'll drink 'em dead again boys: nor were the _grecians_ only fam'd, for drinking and for fighting; for he that drank and wan't asham'd, was ne'er asham'd on's writing. he that will be a souldier then, or wit, must drink good liquor; it makes base cowards fight like men, and roving thoughts fly quicker: let _bacchus_ be both god of war, and god of wit, and then boys, we'll drink and fight, and drink and write, and if the sun set with his light, we'll drink him up again boys. _young_ strephon _and_ phillis. [music] young _strephon_ and _phillis_, they sat on a hill; but the shepherd was wanton, and wou'd not sit still: his head on her bosom, and arms round her wast; he hugg'd her, and kiss'd her, and clasp'd her so fast: 'till playing and jumbling, at last they fell tumbling; and down they got 'em, but oh! they fell soft on the grass at the bottom. as the shepherdess tumbled, the rude wind got in, and blew up her cloaths, and her smock to her chin: the shepherd he saw the bright _venus_, he swore, for he knew her own dove, by the feathers she wore: 'till furious love sallying, at last he fell dallying, and down, down he got him, but oh! oh how sweet, and how soft at the bottom. the shepherdess blushing, to think what she'd done; away from the shepherd, she fain wou'd have run: which _strephon_ perceiving, the wand'rer did seize; and cry'd do be angry, fair nymph if you please: 'tis too late to be cruel, thy frowns my dear jewel, now no more stings have got 'em, for oh! thou'rt all kind, and all soft at the bottom. _the yielding_ lass. [music] there's none so pretty, as my sweet _betty_, she bears away the bell; for sweetness and neatness, and all compleatness, all other girls doth excell. whenever we meet, she'll lovingly greet, me still, with a how d'ye do; well i thank you, quoth i, then she will reply, so am i sir, the better for you. then i ask'd her how, she told me, not now, for walls, and ears, and eyes; nay, she bid me take heed, what ever i did, 'tis good to be merry and wise. i took her by th' hand, she did not withstand, and i gave her a smirking kiss; she gave me another, just like the tother, quoth i, what a comfort is this? this put me in heart, to play o'er my part, that i had intended before; she bid me to hold, and not be too bold, until she had fastned the door. she went to the hatch, to see that the latch, and cranies were all cock-sure; and when she had done, she bid me come on, for now we were both secure. and what we did there, i dare not declare, but think that silence is best; and if you will know, why i kiss'd her, or so, i'll leave you to guess at the rest. _the praise of_ hull _ale_. [music] let's wet the whistle of the muse, that sings the praise of every juice, this house affords for mortal use, _which no body can deny_. here's ale of _hull_, which 'tis well known, kept _king_ and _keyser_ out of town, now in, will never hurt the crown, _which no body_, &c. here's _lambeth_ ale to cool the maw, and beer as spruce as e'er you saw, but mum as good as man can draw, _which no body_, &c. if reins be loose as some mens lives, whereat the purling female grieves, here's stitch-back that will please your wives, _which no body_, &c. here's cyder too, ye little wot, how oft 'twill make ye go to pot, 'tis red-streak all, or it is not, _which no body_, &c. here's scholar that has doft his gown, and donn'd his cloak and come to town, 'till all's up drink his college down, _which no body_, &c. here's _north_-down, which in many a case, pulls all the blood into the face, which blushing is a sign of grace, _which no body_, &c. if belly full of ale doth grow, and women runs in head you know, old _pharoah_ will not let you go, _which no body can deny._ here's that by some bold brandy hight, which _dutch-men_ use in case of fright, will make a coward for to fight, _which no body_, &c. here's _china_ ale surpasseth far, what _munden_ vents at _temple-bar_, 'tis good for lords and ladies ware, _which no body_, &c. here's of _epsom_ will not fox you, more than what's drawn out of cocks of _middleton_, yet cures the pox, _which no body_, &c. for ease of heart, here's that will do't, a liquor you may have to boot, invites you or the devil to't, _which no body_, &c. for bottle ale, though it be windy, whereof i cannot chuse but mind ye, i would not have it left behind ye, _which no body_, &c. take scurvy-grass, or radish ale, 'twill make you like a horse to stale, and cures whatsoever you ail, _which no body_, &c. for country ales, as that of _chess_, or of _darby_ you'll confess, the more you drink, you'll need the less, _which no body_, &c. but one thing must be thought upon, for morning-draught when all is done, a pot of purl for _harrison_, _which no body can deny_. _the_ news _monger. to the same tune._ let's sing as one may say the fate of those that meddle with this and that, and more than comes to their shares do prate, _which no body can deny._ such, who their wine and coffee sip, and let fall words 'twixt cup and lip, to scandal of good fellowship, _which no body_, &c. those clubbers who when met and sate, where every seat is chair of state, as if they only knew what's what, _which no body_, &c. d---- me says one, were i so and so, or as the king, i know what i know, the devil to wood with the _french_ should go, _which no body_, &c. would the king commission grant to me, were _lewis_, _john_ of _gaunt_, i'd beat him, or know why i shant, _which no body_, &c. i'd undertake bring scores to ten, of mine at hours-warning-men, to make _france_ tremble once again, _which no body_, &c. the claret takes, yet e'er he drinks, cries pox o'th' _french-men_, but methinks it must go round to my brother, _which no body_, &c. he's the only citizen of sence, and liberty is his pretence, and has enough of conscience, _which no body_, &c. the bully that next to him sat, with a green livery in his hat, cry'd what a plague would the _french_ be at, _which no body_, &c. z---- had the king without offence, been rul'd by me, you'd seen long since, chastisement for their insolence, _which no body_, &c. they take our ships, do what they please, were ever play'd such pranks as these, as if we were not lord o'th' seas, _which no body_, &c. i told the king on't th' other day, and how th' intrigues o'th' matter lay, but princes will have their own way, _which no body_, &c. the next man that did widen throat, was wight in half pil'd velvet coat, but he, and that not worth a groat, _which no body_, &c. who being planted next the door, (pox on him for a son of whore) inveighs against the embassador, _which no body_, &c. had the king (quoth he) put me upon't, you should have found how i had don't, but now you see what has come on't, _which no body_, &c. quoth he if such an act had stood, that was designed for publick good, 'thad pass'd more than is understood, _which no body_, &c. but now forsooth our strictest laws, are 'gainst the friends o'th' good old cause, and if one hangs, the other draws, _which no body_, &c. but had i but so worthy been, to sit in place that some are in, i better had advis'd therein, _which no body_, &c. i am one that firm doth stand, for manufactures of the land, then cyder takes in, out of hand, _which no body_, &c. this _english_ wine (quoth he) and ale, our fathers drank before the sale of sack on pothecarys stall _which no body_, &c. these outlandish drinks, quoth he, the _french_, and _spanish_ foppery, they tast too much of popery, _which no body_, &c. and having thus their verdicts spent, concerning king and parliament, they scandalize a government, _which no body_, &c. an hierarchy by such a prince, as may be said without offence, none e'er could boast more excellence, _which no body_, &c. god bless the king, the queen and peers, our parliament and overseers, and rid us of such mutineers, _which no body can deny_. _a_ satyr _on the times. to the foregoing tune._ a world that's full of fools and mad-men, of over-glad, and over-sad men, with a few good, but many bad men, _which no body can deny_. so many cheats and close disguises, so many down for one that rises, so many fops for one that wise is, _which no body_, &c. so many women ugly fine, their inside foul, their outside shine, so many preachers few divines, _which no body_, &c. so many of religious sect, who quite do mis-expound the text, about ye know not what perplext, _which no body_, &c. many diseases that do fill ye, many doctors that do kill ye, few physicians that do heal ye, _which no body_, &c. many lawyers that undo ye, but few friends who will stick to ye, and other ills that do pursue ye, _which no body_, &c. so many tradesmen lyars, so many cheated buyers, as even numeration tyers, _which no body_, &c. so many loose ones and high-flying, who live as if there were no dying, heaven and hell, and all defying, _which no body_, &c. so many under scanty fates, who yet do live at lofty rates, and make show of great estates, _which no body_, &c. and if they will not take offence, many great men of little sense, who yet to politicks make pretence, _which no body_, &c. many meriting lower fate, have title, office, and estate, their betters waiting at their gate, _which no body_, &c. the worthless meet with higher advances, as the wise bestower fancies, to the worthy nothing chances, _which no body_, &c. the worthy and the worthless train, modest, silent, nothing gain, impudent begging all obtain, _which no body_, &c. a world wherein is plenteous store, of foppish, rich, ingenious poor, neglected beg from door to door, _which no body_, &c. a world compos'd, 'tis strange to tell, of seeming paradise, yet real hell, yet all agree to lov't too well, _which no body_, &c. where pious, lew'd, the fool, the wise, the one like to the other dies, and leaves a world of vanities, _which no body_, &c. proud and covetous, beaus and bullies, like one o'your musing melanchollies, i cry for their ill's, and laugh at their follies, _which no body can deny_. lucinda _has the devil and all. by mr._ h. hall. [music] _lucinda_ has the de'el and all, the de'el and all, the de'el and all, of that bright thing we beauty call; but if she won't come to my arms, what care i, why, what care i, what, what care i for all her charms? beauty's the sauce to love's high meat, but who minds sauce that must not eat: it is indeed a mighty treasure, but in using lies the pleasure; bullies thus, that only see't, damn all the gold, damn all the gold, all, all the gold in _lombard-street_. _queen_ elizabeth's _farewel_. [music] i'll tell you all, both great and small, i tell you all truly; that we have cause, and very great cause, for to lament and cry, fye, oh! fye, oh! fye, oh! fye! fye on thee cruel death! for thou hast ta'en away from us! our queen _elizabeth_. thou mayst have taken other folks, that better might be mist; and have let our queen alone, who lov'd no popish priest: in peace she rul'd all this land, beholding unto no man, and did the pope of _rome_ withstand, and yet was but a woman. a woman said i? nay, that is more, than any one can tell; so fair she was, so chast she was, that no one knew it well! with that, from _france_ came _monsieur_ o'er, a purpose for to wooe her; yet still she liv'd and dy'd a maid, do what they could unto her. she never acted any ill thing, which made her conscience prick her; nor never would submit to him, that call'd is christ's vicar: but rather chose couragiously, to fight under christ's banner; 'gainst _pope_ and _turk_, and king of _spain_, and all that durst withstand her. but if that i had _argus's_ eyes, they were too few to weep; for our queen _elizabeth_, that now is fall'n asleep: asleep indeed, where she shall rest, until the day of doom: and then she shall rise unto the shame of the great pope of _rome_. _the same in_ latin. _vobis magnis parvis dicam, et sum veredicus; offerri causam maximam, esse in tristibus, væ tibi mors! malum tibi! pro mortem tetricam! tu enim nobis dempsisti, reginam_ elizam. _poteras plures capere, citra injuriam; reginamq; non rapere, anti-sacri-colam:_ _quietè gentem hæc rexit, nulliq; devincta, papamque_ romæ _despexit, et tandem fæmella_. _ah, ah, quid dixi fæmella? de hoc fama silet; adeo fuit casta-bella, ut nemini liquet: en dux_ andinus _adiit, illam petiturus; virgo vixit & obiit, hæc nihilominus_. _nec mali quid hæc effecit, conscientiæ stimulo; nec semet ipsam subjecit, christi-vicario: at maluit magnamimis, sub christi vexellis, pugnare cum_ papâ, turcis, _ac multis aliis_. _sin mihi_ argi _oculi, deessent lachrymæ_; elizabethæ _fletui, nuper demortuæ, de nata hic obdormiet, die novissimo: et tunc expergefaciet, papâ propudio_. _the pressing constable. set by mr._ leveridge. [music] i am a cunning constable, and a bag of warrants i have here, to press sufficient men, and able, at _horn-castle_ to appear: but now-a-days they're grown so cunning, that hearing of this martial strife; they all away from hence are running, _where i miss the man, i'll press the wife._ ho, who's at home? lo, here am i, good-morrow neighbour. welcome, sir; where is your husband? why truly he's gone abroad, a journey far: do you not know when he comes back? see how these cowards fly for life! the king for soldiers must not lack, _if i miss the man, i'll take the wife._ shew me by what authority you do it? pray sir, let me know; it is sufficient for to see, the warrant hangs in bag below: then pull it out, if it be strong, with you i will not stand at strife: my warrant is as broad as long, _if i miss the man, i'll press the wife._ now you have prest me and are gone, please you but let me know your name; that when my husband he comes home, i may declare to him the same: my name is captain _ward_, i say, i ne'er fear'd man in all my life: the king for soldiers must not stay, _missing the man, i'll press the wife._ _the same in_ latin. _astutus constabularius, mandata gero in tergore: cincturos evocaturus_, cornu-castello _affore: at hodiè adeò sapiunt, auditâ lite bellicâ, omnes abhinc profugiunt_, virum supplebit f[oe]mina. _ecquisnam domi en ego salve. sis salvus, domine: ubinam vir est? haud nego, procul abest in itinere: nàm es ignara reditûs? ut fugiunt pro tutamine! non egeat rex militibus_, viros supplebunt f[oe]minæ. _hæc quo guaranto factitas, ambò dicas, domine? sufficiat ut videas, quod pendet abdomine; educas, si vim habeat, tecum nolam certamina, pro ratione, voluntas stat_, virum supplebit f[oe]minæ. _compressâ me, ituro te, si placet, reddas nomina. sic ut reverso conjuge, illi declarem omnia_, ward _ducor capitaneus, sat notus pro magnanime non egeat rex milibus_, viros supplebunt f[oe]minæ. _a_ song. _set by mr._ leveridge. [music] love is a bauble, no man is able, to say, it is this, or 'tis that; an idle passion, of such a fashion, 'tis like i cannot tell what. fair in the cradle, foul in the saddle, always too cold, or too hot; an errant lyar, fed by desire, it is, and yet it is not. love is a fellow, clad all in yellow, the canker-worm of the mind; a privy mischief, and such a sly thief, no man knows where him to find. love is a wonder, 'tis here, and 'tis yonder, 'tis common to all men, we know; a very cheater, ev'ry ones better, then hang him, and let him go. _the same in_ latin. _amor est pegma, merum Ænigma, quid sit nemo detegat: vesana passio, cui nulla ratio, parem natura negat_. _cunis formosus, sellâ c[oe]nosus, calor, aut frigiditas: furens libido, dicta cupido, est, & non est entitas_. _amor amasius, totus silaceus, est eruca animi; deditus malis, ac prædo qualis, non inventus ullibi_. _hic & ubiq; compar utriq; ad stuporem agitat: nullus deterior, quovis superior, in malam rem abeat._ _a_ song. _set by mr._ henry purcell. [music] young _strephon_ he has woo'd me long, and courted me with pipe and song; but i a silly, silly peevish twit, for want of sense, for want of wit, have phoo'd, and cry'd, have pish'd, and fy'd, and play'd the fool, and lost my time, and almost slipp'd, and almost slipp'd, and almost slipp'd my maiden prime. but now i thank my gracious heav'n, i hope my faults are all forgiven; i've struck the bargain, eas'd my pain, and am resolv'd to take my swain: to phoo, and cry, and pish, and fye, and make a virgin's coy pretence, is all, all, all, is all, all, all, is all, all, all, for want of sense. _a_ song. tune, _how happy's the lover_. how happy's that husband who after few years, of railing and brawling, confusion and folly, shall see his lantipley drown'd in her tears, then prithee _alexis_ be jolly, be jolly, then prithee _alexis_ be jolly. _a_ song. _set by mr._ leveridge. [music: fortune is blind and beauty unkind, the devil take 'em both, one is a witch, & tothere's a bitch in neither's faith or troth: there's hazard in hap, deceit in a lap, but no fraud in a brimmer; if truth in the bottom lye, thence to redeem her we'll drain, we'll drain, we'll drain, we'll drain the whole ocean dry.] honour's a toy, for fools a decoy, beset with care and fear; and that (i wuss) kills many a puss, before her clymacht year: but freedom and mirth, create a new birth, while sack's the _aqua vitæ_, that vigour and spirit gives, liquor almighty! whereby the poor mortal lives. let us be blith, in spight of death's syth, and with an heart and half, drink to our friends, and think of no ends, but keep us sound and safe: while healths do go round, no malady's found, the maw-sick in the morning, for want of his wonted strain; is as a warning, to double it over again. let us maintain our traffique with _spain_, and both the _indies_ slight; give us their wines, let them keep their mines, we'll pardon eighty eight: there's more certain wealth secur'd from stealth, in one pipe of canary, than in an unfortunate isle; let us be wary, we do not our selves beguile. _the_ latin _to the foregoing_ song. _sors sine visu, formáq; risu, sint pro dæmone; hæc malefica, ita venefica, fallax utraque; sors mea est fors, sinùsque vecors, sed fraus nulla; tu toto in fundo si veritas sit, potu epoto, oceanus situs fit._ _honor & lusus, stultis illusus, carâ catenatâ, hâcque (ut fatur) catus necatur, morte non paratâ: dum vero græcamur, non renovamur, nam aqua vitæ vinum, vires spiritúsque dat, idque dicunum, a morte nos elevat._ _fam simus læti, spretâ vi lethi, cordatissime: ut combibones (non ut gnathones) saxti-rectique: dum proculæ spument, morbi absument: ac manè corpus onustum, præ alienatione, acuit gustum, pro iteratione_. _prestet quotannis, merks cum_ hispanis, india _sit sola; vinum præbeant, aurum teneant, absit spinola: sunt opes, pro certo, magis à furto, in vini potione, quam terra incognitâ; pro cautione, ne nobis fit subdola._ _the raree-show, from father_ hopkins. [music] from father _hopkins_, whose vein did inspire him, _bays_ sends this raree-show publick to view; prentices, fops and their footmen admire him, thanks patron, painter, and monsieur _grabeau_. each actor on the stage his luck bewailing, finds that his loss is infallibly true; _smith_, _nokes_, and _leigh_ in a feaver with railing, curse poet, painter, and monsieur _grabeau_. _betterton_, _betterton_, thy decorations, and the machines were well written we knew; but all the words were such stuff we want patience, and little better is monsieur _grabeu_. d---- me says _underhill_, i'm out two hundred, hoping that rain-bows and peacocks would do; who thought infallible _tom_ could have blunder'd, a plague upon him and monsieur _grabeu_. _lane_ thou hast no applause for thy capers, tho' all without thee would make a man spew; and a month hence will not pay for the tapers, spite of _jack laureat_ and monsieur _grabeu_. _bays_ thou wouldst have thy skill thought universal, tho' thy dull ear be to musick untrue; then whilst we strive to confute the _rehearsal_, prithee learn thrashing of monsieur _grabeu_. with thy dull prefaces still thou wouldst treat us, striving to make thy dull bauble look fair; so the horn'd herd of the city do cheat us, still most commending the worst of their ware. leave making _opera's_, and writing _lyricks_, 'till thou hast ears and canst alter thy strain; stick to thy talent of bold panegyricks, and still remember the breathing the vein. yet if thou thinkest the town will extol 'em, print thy dull notes, but be thrifty and wise; instead of angels subscrib'd for the volume, take a round shilling, and thank my advice. in imitating thee this may be charming, gleaning from laureats is no shame at all; and let this song be sung the next performing, else ten to one but the prices will fall. _a_ song. [music] abroad as i was walking, i spy'd two maids a wrestling, the one threw the other unto the ground; one maid she let a fart, struck the other to the heart, was not this a grievous wound? this fart it was heard into mr. _bowman's_ yard, with a great and a mighty power; for ought that i can tell, it blew down _bridwell_, and so overcame the _tower_. it blew down _paul's_ steeple, and knock'd down many people, alack was the more the pity; it blew down _leaden-hall_, and the meal-sacks and all, and the meal flew about the city. it blew down the _exchange_, was not this very strange, and the merchants of the city did wound; this maid she like a beast, turn'd her fugo to the _east_, and it roar'd in the air like thunder. _the jolly_ pedlar's _pretty thing_. [music] a pedlar proud as i heard tell, he came into a town: with certain wares he had to sell, which he cry'd up and down: at first of all he did begin, with ribbonds, or laces, points, or pins, gartering, girdling, tape, or filleting, _maids any cunny-skins_. i have of your fine perfumed gloves, and made of the best doe-skin; such as young men do give their loves, when they their favour win: besides he had many a prettier thing _than ribbonds_, &c. i have of your fine necklaces, as ever you did behold; and of your silk handkerchiefs, that are lac'd round with gold: besides he had many a prettier thing _than ribbonds_, &c. good fellow, says one, and smiling sat, your measure does somewhat pinch; beside you measure at that rate, it wants above an inch: and then he shew'd her a prettier thing, _than ribbonds_, &c. the lady was pleas'd with what she had seen, and vow'd and did protest; unless he'd shew it her once again, she never shou'd be at rest: with that he shew'd her his prettier thing _than ribbonds_, &c. with that the pedlar began to huff, and said his measure was good, if that she pleased to try his stuff, and take it whilst it stood: and than he gave her a prettier thing, _than ribbonds_, &c. good fellow said she, when you come again, pray bring good store of your ware; and for new customers do not sing, for i'll take all and to spare: with that she hugg'd his prettier thing _than ribbonds, or laces, points, or pins, gartering, girdling, tape, or filleting, maids any cunny-skins_. _a_ song, _by mr._ escourt, _to a tune of mr._ weldon's. [music] the ordinance a-board, such joys does afford, as no mortal, no mortal, no mortal, no mortal, no mortal e'er more can desire; each member repairs, from the _tower_ to the stairs, and by water, by water, by water, they all go to fire. of each piece that's a-shore, they search from the bore, and to proving, to proving, to proving, to proving, to proving, they go in fair weather; their glasses are large, and whene'er they discharge, there's a boo huzza, a boo huzza, a boo huzza, guns and bumpers go off together. old _vulcan_ for _mars_, fitted tools for his wars, to enable him, enable him, enable him, enable him, enable him to conquer the faster; but had _mars_ ever been upon our _wolwich_ green, to have heard boo, huzza, boo, huzza, boo, huzza, he'd have own'd great _marlborough_ his master. _a_ song. [music] a young man and a maid, _put in all, put in all_, together lately play'd, _put in all_; the young man was in jest, o the maid she did protest: she bid him do his best, _put in all, put in all_. with that her rowling eyes, _put_, &c. turn'd upward to the skies, _put_, &c. my skin is white you see, my smock above my knee, what wou'd you more of me, _put_, &c. i hope my neck and breast, _put_, &c. lie open to your chest, _put in all_, the young man was in heat, the maid did soundly sweat, a little farther get, _put_, &c. according to her will, _put_, &c. this young man try'd his skill, _put in all_; but the proverb plain does tell, that use them ne'er so well, for an inch they'd take an ell, _put_, &c. when they had ended sport, _put_, &c. she found him all too short, _put in all_; for when he'd done his best, the maid she did protest, 'twas nothing but a jest, _put in all, put in all_. _a_ song. _the words by_ jo. hains, _set by mr._ church. [music] i courted and writ, shew'd my love and my wit, and still pretty _flavia_ deny'd; 'twas her virtue i thought, made me prove such a sot, to adore her the more for her pride: 'till i happen'd to sit, by her mask'd in a pit, whilst a crowd of gay beaus held her play; when so wantonly free, was her smart repartee, i was cur'd and went blushing, went blushing away. how lovers mistake, the addresses they make, when they swear to be constant and true; for all the nymphs hold, tho' the sport be still old, that their play-mates must ever be new: each pretty new toy, how they'll long to enjoy, and then for a newer will pine; but when they perceive, others like what they leave, then they cry for their bauble again. perkin _in a_ cole-sack: _or, the_ collier's _buxome wife of st._ james's. [music] come all that are disposed a while, and listen to my story; i shall not you of ought beguile, but plainly lay before ye: how buxome _ruth_ had often strove, with no small pains and labour; her own sufficiency to prove, by many a brawny neighbour. she oft was heard for to complain, but still with little profit; that nature made her charms in vain, unless some good come of it: her booby seldom was at home, and therefore could not please her; which made more welcome guest to come, in charity to ease her. her wishes all were for an heir, tho' _venus_ still refus'd her; which made the pensive sinner swear the goddess had abus'd her: and since her suit she did deny, to shew her good intention; she was resolv'd her self to try an old, but rare invention. abroad by known example taught, to one with child she hasts her; whereby five guineas which she brought, the bargain is made fast, sir: the infant soon as brought to light, (for so they had agreed it) must fall to buxome _ruth_ by right, to save her sinking credit. her petticoats with cushions rear'd, her belly struts before her; her _ben's_ abilitys are prais'd, and he poor fool adores her. her stomach sick, and squeamish grown, she pewkes like breeding woman, while he is proud to make it known, that he has prov'd a true man. nine months compleat, the trusty dame, her pain she finds increases; while _ruth_ affected with the same, makes ugly and wry faces: and now a coach must needs be had, the brat to shake about, sir; but e'er return'd _ben_ was a dad, for _perkin_ had crept out, sir. the good ale firkin strait is tapp'd, and women all are jolly; while no one in her round is 'scap'd, for fear of melancholy: and _ruth_ in bed could in her turn, tho' modest of behaviour; with all her heart a bob have born, had she not fear'd a feaver. thus jovially the time they spend, in merriment and quaffing; whilst each one does the brat commend, as _ben_ did still keep laughing: and now to tell is my intent, how fortune to distaste her; _ruth's_ future boasting did prevent, by one most sad disaster. a search was made at t'other home, by overseers quick sighted; the mother to confession comes, by threats being much affrighted; thus all their mirth at once was cool, fate all their hopes did hamper; so _ben_ lives on the self same fool, tho' _ruth_ was forc'd to scamper. _and if the truth of this you doubt, the overseers can make it out._ _the man of_ honour: _or, the unconstant world turn'd upside down: to the foregoing_ tune. how is the world transform'd of late, in country, court, and city; as if we were decreed by fate, to sing a mournful ditty: about the dismal change of things, there was no sooth in fauner; in the blest reigns of former kings, _when i was a man of honour_. i kept a castle of my own, with land five thousand acres; when old king _harry_ grac'd the throne, before the time of quakers: my doors and gates stood open wide, i lackt no ring nor runner; an ox each day i did provide, _when i was_, &c. my guess all day went in and out, to feast and cheer their senses; could i but bring the year about, i grudg'd not my expences: my talent was to feast the poor, i valu'd no court fauner; of cooks i kept full half a score, _when i was_, &c. when _christmas_ day was drawing near, to cheer and make them merry; i broach'd my humming stout _march_ beer, as brown as the hawthorn berry: of which there was not any lack, i was my self the donor; 'twas fetch'd up in a leathern _jack_, _when i was_, &c. i never lay in trades-mens books, for gaudy silks or sattins; nor did i pay with frowning looks, or broken scraps of _latin_: they had my gold and silver free, i fear'd not any dunner; all men was glad to deal with me, _when i was a man of honour_. i never kept my _hawkes_ and _hounds_, or lew'd and wanton misses; i'd never sell or mortgage towns, to purchase charming kisses: of those that seek their prey by night, each cunning female fauner; my lady was my hearts delight, _when i was_, &c. i never hid my noble head, for any debt contracted; nor from the nation have i fled, for treasons basely acted: nor did i in the least rebel, to make my self a runner: my loyalty was known full well, _when i was_, &c. i never did betray my trust, for bribes more sweet than honey; nor was i false, or so unjust, to sink the nations money: my _lands_ and _livings_ to enlarge, by wronging each good donor: i built not at the nation's charge, _when i was_, &c. we find now in these latter days, some men hath delegated; from truth, and found out greedy ways, this should be regulated: and act henceforth with heart and hand, oppose the sons of _bonner_; i lov'd my king and serv'd my land, _when i was_, &c. for bounty, love and large relief, for noble conversation; for easing the poor widows grief, in times of lamentation: for house of hospitality, i'll challenge any donor; there's few or none that can outvey, _king_ henry's _man of honour_. _a_ song, _set by mr._ frank. fickle bliss, fantastick treasure, love how soon, how soon, how soon thy joys, are past? since we soon must lose the pleasure, oh! 'twere better ne'er to tast: gods! how sweet would be possessing, did not time its charms destroy; or could lovers with the blessing, lose the thoughts of _cupid's_ joy: lose the thoughts, the thoughts, the thoughts of _cupid's_ joy. cruel thoughts, that pain yet please me, ah! no more my rest destroy; shew me still if you would ease me, love's deceits, but not it's joy: gods what kind, yet cruel powers, force my will to rack my mind! ah! too long we wait for flowers, too, too soon, to fade design'd. _a_ song, _set by mr._ akeroyde. [music] that scornful _sylvia's_ chains i wear, the groves and streams can tell; those blasted with my sighs appear, these with my tears my tears, o're swell. but sighs and tears bring no redress, and love that sees, that sees me grieve; conspires with _sylvia_ to oppress, the heart he should relieve. the god that should reward my pain, makes _sylvia_ more my foe: as she encreases in disdain, he makes my passion grow: and must i, must i still admire, those eyes that cause my grief? 'tis just, since i my self conspire against my own relief. _a_ song, _set by mr._ robert king. all own the young _sylvia_ is fatally fair; all own the young _sylvia_ is pretty; confess her good nature, and easie soft air, nay more, that's she's wanton and witty. yet all the keen arrows at _damon_ still cast, cou'd never, cou'd never, his quiet destroy, 'till the cunning _coquett_, shot me flying at last; _by a jene say, jene say, quoy_, _by a jene say, jene say, quoy._ so tho' the young _sylvia_ were not very fair, tho' she were but indifferently pretty; much wanting _aurelia's_, or _cælia's_ soft air, but not the dull sence of the city: yet still the dear creature wou'd please without doubt, and give me abundance of joy; since all that is missing is plainly made out, _by a jene say, jene say quoy._ _a_ song, _set by mr._ frank. [music] a swain in despair, cryed women ne'er trust, alass they are all unkind or unjust. a nymph who was by, soon thus did reply; the men we all find more false and unkind. except me he cryed, and me she replyed, then try me said he, i dare not said she: the swain did pursue, each alter'd their mind: she vow'd he was true, he swore she was kind. _a_ song. _set by mr._ akeroyde. [music] wo'as me poor lass! what mun i do? gin i did my bonny _sawney_ slight, he now gangs a blither lass to woo, and i alene poor lass ligs ev'ry night. curse on fickleness and pride, by which we silly women are undone: what my _sawney_ begg'd and i deny'd alass! i long to grant, but now he's gone. when he was kind i made a strife, yet i then deny'd with mickle woe; for he su'd as gin, he begg'd for life, and almost dy'd poor lad! when i said no: well i keen'd, he woo'd to wed, yet fear'd to own, i lov'd the canny loon; ah would he have stay'd he might have sped, waa's me! why would my _sawney_ gang so soon. _a_ song. [music] richest gift of lavish nature, matchless darling of my heart; ah! too dear, too charming creature, you on earth a heav'n impart. rapt in pleasure past expressing, i with bliss almost expire; cou'd we still be thus possessing, god's who would your state desire. kindling glances quickning kisses, that like time so soon are past; crowding joys to eager blisses, still renewing may you last: nor by a fantastick fashion, being lawful please the less; but may i indulge my passion, blest in none but her i bless. tom _tinker_. [music] _tom_ tinker's my true love, and i am his dear, and i will go with him his budget to bear; for of all the young men he has the best luck, all the day he will fuddle, at night he will ---- this way, that way, which way you will, i am sure i say nothing that you can take ill. with hammer on kettle he tabbers all day, at night he will tumble on strumil or hay; he calls me his jewel, his delicate duck, and then he will take up my smicket to ---- _this way_, &c. _tom tinker_ i say was a jolly stout lad, he tickled young _nancy_ and made her stark mad; to have a new rubbers with him on the grass, by reason she knew that he had a good ---- _this way_, &c. there was an old woman on crutches she came, to lusty _tom tinker_, _tom tinker_ by name; and tho' she was aged near threescore and five, she kickt up her heels and resolved to ---- _this way_, &c. a beautiful damsel came out of the west, and she was as jolly and brisk as the best; she'd dance and she'd caper as wild as a buck, and told _tom_ the _tinker_, she would have some ---- _this way_, &c. a lady she call'd him her kettle to mend, and she resolved her self to attend; now as he stood stooping and mending the brass, his breeches was torn and down hung his ---- _this way_, &c. something she saw that pleased her well, she call'd in the _tinker_ and gave him a spell; with pig, goose and capon, and good store of suck, that he might be willing to give her some ---- _this way_, &c. he had such a trade that he turn'd me away, yet as i was going he caus'd me to stay; so as towards him i was going to pass, he gave me a slap in the face with his ---- _this way_, &c. i thought in my heart he had struck off my nose, i gave him as good as he brought i suppose; my words they were ready and wonderful blunt, quoth i, i had rather been stobb'd in my ---- _this way_, &c. i met with a butcher a killing a calf, i then stepp'd to him and cryed out half: at his first denial i fell very sick, and he said it was all for a touch of his ---- _this way_, &c. i met with a fencer a going to school, i told him at fencing he was but a fool; he had but three rapiers and they were all blunt, and told him he should no more play at my ---- _this way_, &c. i met with a barber with razor and balls, he fligger'd and told me for all my brave alls; he would have a stroke, and his words they were blunt, i could not deny him the use of my ---- _this way_, &c. i met with a fidler a fidling aloud, he told me he had lost the case of his croud; i being good natur'd as i was wont, told him he should make a case of my ---- _this way, and that way, and which way you can, for the fairest of women will lye with a man._ _a_ song. _set by mr._ king. when on her eyes, when on her eyes, my happy stars i gaze, a strange commotion seizes every part. fain would i speak, fain would i speak, the cause of my disease; but fear to tell the story of my heart. her look severe, her look severe, yet o endearing awes, yet o endearing awes, the women's envy, the women's envy, but mankind's applause, but mankind's applause. _miss_ cuddy. [music] poor _sawney_ had marry'd a wife, and he knew not what to do with her; for she'd eat more barly-bread, then he knew how to give her: we'll all sup together, we'll all sup, _&c._ we'll make no more beds than one, 'till _jove_ sends warmer weather. we'll all lig together, we'll all lig together, we'll make no more beds than one, 'till _jove_ sends warmer weather. we'll put the sheep's-head in the pot, the wool and the horns together; and we will make broth of that, and we'll all sup together, we'll all sup together, we'll all sup together, we'll make no more beds than one, 'till _jove_ sends warmer weather, we'll all lig together, _&c._ the wool shall thicken the broth, the horns shall serve for bread, by this you may understand, the virtue that's in a sheep's-head: and we'll all sup together, we'll all sup together, we'll make no more beds than one, 'till _jove_ sends warmer weather, and we'll all lig together, _&c._ some shall lig at the head, and some shall lig at the feet, miss _cuddy_ wou'd lig in the middle, because she'd have all the sheet: we'll all lig together, we'll all lig together, we'll make no more beds than one, 'till _jove_ sends warmer weather, and we'll all lig together, _&c._ miss _cuddy_ got up in the loft, and _sawney_ wou'd fain have been at her, miss _cuddy_ fell down in her smock, and made the glass windows to clatter: we'll all lig together, we'll all lig together, we'll make no more beds than one, 'till _jove_ sends warmer weather, we'll all lig together, _&c._ the bride she went to bed, the bridegroom followed after, the fidler crepp'd in at the feet, and they all lig'd together, we'll all lig together, _&c._ _a_ song. _set by mr._ akeroyde. [music] beneath a cool shade _amaryllis_ was sate, complaining of love and bemoaning her fate; ah! she cry'd, why must maids be so formal and coy, to deny what they think is their only true joy? and custom impose on us so much ado, when our hearts are on fire, and love bids us fall too; and custom impose on us so much ado, when our hearts are on fire, and love bids us fall too. young _strephon_ was near her, and heard the complaint, he easily guest what the damsel did want; he rush'd in upon her, in kisses reply'd, caught her fast in his arms, she faintly deny'd: what they did without study, we soon may divine, 'twas _strephon's_ luck then, the next minute be mine. clarinda's _complaint_. _tune of_ ianthe _the lovely_. with sighing and wishing, and green-sickness diet, with nothing of pleasure, and little of quiet; with a granum's inspection, and doctor's direction, but not the specifick, that suits my complexion: the flower of my age is full blown in my face, yet no man considers, yet no man considers my comfortless case. young women were valued, as i have been told, in the late times of peace, above mountains of gold; but now there is fighting, we are nothing but sliting, few gallants in conjugal matters delighting: 'tis a shame that mankind, should love killing and slaying and mind not supplying the stock that's decaying. unlucky _clarinda_, to love in a season, when _mars_ has forgotten to do _venus_ reason; had i any hand in rule and command, i'd certainly make it a law of the land: that killers of men, to replenish the store, be bound to the wedlock, and made to get more. enacted moreover for better dispatch, that where a good captain meets with an o'ermatch, his honest lieutenant with soldier-like grace, shall relieve him on duty, and serve in his place: thus killers and slayers of able good men, without beat of drum may recruit 'em agen. _a_ ballad _by the late lord_ dorset, _when at sea_. [music] to you fair ladies now at land, we men at sea indite; but first wou'd have you understand, how hard it is to write: the muses now, and _neptune_ too, we must implore to write to you; _with a fa la, la, la, la_, the muses now, _&c._ but tho' the muses should be kind, and fill our empty brain; yet if rough _neptune_ cause the wind, to rouse the _azure_ main: our paper, pens, and ink and we, rowl up and down our ships at sea, _with a fa la_, &c. then if we write not by each post, think not that we're unkind; nor yet conclude that we are lost, by _dutch_, by _french_, or wind, our grief will find a speedier way, the tide shall bring them twice a day, _with a fa la_, &c. the king with wonder and surprize, will think the seas grown bold; for that the tide does higher rise, then e'er it did of old: but let him know that 'tis our tears, sends floods of grief to _white-hall_ stairs, _with a fa la_, &c. shou'd count _thoulouse_ but come to know, our sad and dismal story; the _french_ wou'd scorn so weak a foe, where they can get no glory: for what resistance can they find, from men as left their hearts behind, _with a fa la_, &c. to pass our tedious time away, we throw the merry main; or else at serious _ombra_ play, but why shou'd we in vain, each others ruin thus pursue, we were undone when we left you, _with a fa la_, &c. when any mournful tune you hear, that dyes in e'ery note; as if it sigh'd for each man's care, for being so remote: think then how often love we've made, to you while all those tunes were play'd, _with a fa la._, &c. let wind and weather do its worst, be you to us but kind; let _french-men_ vapour, _dutch-men_ curse, no sorrows we shall find: 'tis then no matter how things go, nor who's our friend, nor who our foe, _with a fa la._, &c. thus having told you all our loves, and likewise all our fears; in hopes this declaration moves, some pity to our tears: let's hear of no inconstancy, we have too much of that at sea, _with a fa, la, la, la, la._ _bonny_ kathern loggy. _a_ scotch song. [music] as i came down the hey land town, there was lasses many, sat in a rank, on either bank, and ene more gay than any; ise leekt about for ene kind face, and ise spy'd _willy scroggy_; ise spir'd of him what was her name, and he caw'd her _kathern loggy_. a sprightly bonny gurl sha was, and made my heart to rise _joe_; sha was so fair sa blith a lass, and love was in her eyes so: ise walkt about like ene possest, and quite forgot poor _moggy_; for nothing now could give me rest, but bonny _kathern loggy_. my pratty _katy_ then quoth i, and many a sigh i gave her; let not a leard for _katy_ die, but take him to great favour: sha laught aloud, and sa did aw, and bad me hemward to ge; and still cry'd out awaw, awaw, fro bonny _kathern loggy_. a fardel farther i would see, and some began to muse me; the lasses they sat wittally, and the lads began to rooze me: the blades with beaus came down she knows, like ring rooks fro _strecy boggy_; and four and twanty _highland_ lads, were following _kathern loggy_. when i did ken this muckle trame, and every ene did know her; i spir'd of _willy_ what they mean, quo he they aw do mow her: there's ne'er a lass in aw _scotland_, from _dundee_ to _strecy boggy_; that has her fort so bravely mann'd, as bonny _kathern loggy_. at first indeed i needs must tell, ise could not well believe it; but when ise saw how fow they fell, ise could not but conceive it. there was ne'er a lad of any note, or any deaf young roguey; but he did lift the welly coat, of bonny _kathern loggy_. had i kenn'd on kittleness, as i came o'er the moore _joe_; ise had n'er ban as ise ha dun, nor e'er out-stankt my seln so: for i was then so stankt with stint, i spurr'd my aw'd nagg _fogey_; and had i kenn'd sha had been a whore, i had ne'er lov'd _kathern loggy_. (_the_ catholick _brother_) _a_ song. [music] dear _catholick_ brother are you come from the wars, so lame of your foots and your face full of scars; to see your poor _shela_ who with great grief was fill'd, for you my dear joy when i think you were kill'd. _with a fa la, la._ o my shoul my dear _shela_, i'm glad you see me, for if i were dead now, i could not see thee; the cuts in my body, and the scars in my face, i got them in fighting for her majesty's grace. but oh my dear _shela_ dost thou now love me, so well as you did, e're i went to the sea; by _cri----_ and st. _pa----_ my dear joy i do, and we shall be married to morrow just now. i'll make a cabin for my dearest to keep off the cold, and i have a guinea of yellow red gold; to make three halfs of it i think will be best, give two to my _shela_ and the tird to the _priest_. old _philemy_ my father was full fourscore years old, and tho' he be dead he'll be glad to be told; that we two are married, my dear spare no cost, but send him some letter, upon the last post. _the triumphs of_ peace, _or the_ widdows _and_ maids _rejoycing_. [music] dear mother i am transported, to think of the boon comrades; they say we shall all be courted, kind widows as well as maids, oh! this will be joyful news: _we'll dress up our houses with holly, we'll broach a tub of humming bub, to treat those that come with a rub a dub dub, for dear mother they'll make us jolly._ dear mother to see them mounted, 'twou'd tickle your heart with joy; by me they all shall be counted, heroical sons of _troy_: the bells in the steeples shall ring, _we'll stick all our houses with holly_, _we'll broach a tub of humming bub_, _to treat those that comes with a rub a dub dub_, _for dear mother they'll make us jolly_. i'll dress me as fine as a lady, against they come into the town; my ribbonds are all bought ready, my furbelow-scarf and gown; to pleasure the warlike boys, _we'll dress up our houses_, &c. they are delicate brisk and brawny, troth neither too lean nor fat; no matter for being tawny, they're never the worse for that; we'll give them a welcome home, _and dress up our houses_, &c. they come from the field of battle, to quarter in ladies arms; 'tis pretty to hear them prattle, and tell of their loud alarms: we'll crown them with garlands gay, _and dress up our houses_, &c. those boys are the pride of _britain_, they love us and so they may; dear mother it is but fitting, we shou'd be as kind as they: the conduits shall run with wine, _we'll dress up our houses_, &c. those battling sons of thunder, now at their returning back; i know they will be for plunder, virginities go to wrack: but let them do what they please, _we'll dress up our houses_, &c. _a_ song. _set and sung by mr._ leveridge _at the_ theatre. [music] fill the glass, fill, fill, fill the glass, let hautboys sound, whilst bright _celinda_, bright _celinda's_ health go round. fill the glass, fill, fill, fill the glass, let hautboys sound, whilst bright _celinda_, bright _celinda's_ health goes round. with eternal beauty blest, ever blooming, ever blooming still be best; drink your glass, drink your glass, drink your glass and think, think, think the rest, drink your glass and think, think, think the rest. _an_ irish song. hub ub, ub, boo; hub ub, ub, boo; dish can't be true, de war dees cease, but der's no peash, i know and find, 'tis sheal'd and sign'd, but won't believe 'tis true, hub, ub, ub, boo, hub ub, ub, boo. _a hone, a hone_, poor _teague's_ undone, i dare not be, a rapparee, i ne'er shall see, _magraw macree_, nor my more dear garone, _a hone, a hone._ awa, awa, i must huzza, 'twill hide my fears, and save my ears, the mob appears, her'sh to _nassau_, dear joy 'tis _usquebaugh_, huzza, huzza, huzza. _the_ bath _teazers: or a comical description of the diversions at_ bath. [music] i'll tell thee _dick_ where i have lately been, _there's rare doings at_ bath, amongst beauties divine, the like was ne'er seen, _there's rare doings at_ bath, and some dismal wits that were eat up with spleen, _there's rare doings at_ bath. _there's rare doings at_ bath. _raffling and fidling, and piping and singing,_ _there's rare doings at_ bath. where all drink the waters to recover health, and some sort of fools there throw off their wealth, and now and then kissing, and that's done by stealth, _there's rare doings_, &c. and now for the crew that pass in the throng, that live by the gut, or the pipe, or the song, and teaze all the gentry as they pass along, _there's rare doings_, &c. first _corbet_ began my lord pray your crown, you'll hear a new boy i've just brought to town, i'm sure he will please you, or else knock me down, _there's rare doings_, &c. besides i can boast of my self and two more, and _leveridge_ the bass, that sweetly will roar, 'till all the whole audience joins in an ancore, _there's rare doings_, &c. next _h----b l----r_ and _b----r_ too, with hautboy, one fidle, and tenor so bleu, and fusty old musick, not one note of new, _there's rare doings_, &c. next _morphew_ the harper with his pigg's face, lye tickling a treble and vamping a bass, and all he can do 'tis but musick's disgrace, _there's rare doings_, &c. then comes the eunuch to teaze them the more, subscribe your two guineas to make up fourscore, i never perform'd at so low rate before, _there's rare doings_, &c. then come the strolers among the rest, and little punch _powel_ so full of his jest, with pray sir, good madam, it's my show is best, _there's rare doings_, &c. thus being tormented, and teaz'd to their souls, they thought the best way to get rid of these fools, the case they referr'd to the master of the r----ls, _there's rare doings_, &c. says his honour, and then he put on a frown, and since you have left it to my thoughts alone, i'll soon have them all whipp'd out of the town, o _rare doings at_ bath, _raffling, and fidling_, &c. _the distress'd_ shepherd, _a_ song. [music] i am a poor shepherd undone, and cannot be cur'd by art; for a nymph as bright as the sun, has stole away my heart: and how to get it again, there's none but she can tell; to cure me of my pain, by saying she loves me well: and alass poor shepherd, alack and a welladay; before i was in love, oh every month was _may_. if to love she cou'd not incline, i told her i'd die in an hour; to die says she 'tis in thine, but to love 'tis not in my power. i askt her the reason why, she could not of me approve; she said 'twas a task too hard, to give any reason for love: _and alass poor shepherd_, &c. she ask'd me of my estate, i told her a flock of sheep; the grass whereon they graze, where she and i might sleep: besides a good ten pound, in old king _harry's_ groats; with hooks and crooks abound, and birds of sundry notes: _and alass poor shepherd_, &c. _a_ song. i love to madness, rave t'enjoy, but heaps of wealth my progress bar; curse on the load that stops my way, my love's more rich and brighter far: were i prest under hills of gold, my furious sighs should make my escape; i'd sigh and blow up all the mould, and throw the oar in _cælia's_ lap. were thou some peasant mean and small, and all the spacious globe were mine; i'd give the world, the sun and all, for one kind brighter glance of thine: this hour let _cælia_ with me live, and gods cou'd i but of you borrow, i'd give what only you can give, for that dear hour, i'd give to morrow. _the loving couple: or the merry_ wedding. [music] a jolly young _grocer_ of _london town_, fell deeply in love with his maid: and often he courted her to lye down, but she told him she was afraid: sometimes he would struggle, but still she would boggle, and never consent to his wicked will; but said he must tarry, until he would marry, and then he should have his fill. but when that he found he could not obtain, the blessing he thus pursu'd; for tho' he had try'd her again and again, she vow'd she would not be leud: at last he submitted, to be so outwitted, as to be catch'd in the nuptial snare; altho' the young hussie, before had been busie, with one that she lov'd more dear. the morning after they marry'd were, the drums and the fiddles came; then oh what a thumping and scraping was there, to please the new marry'd dame: there was fiddle come fiddle, with hey diddle diddle, and all the time that the musick play'd; there was kissing and loving, and heaving and shoving, for fear she should rise a maid. but e'er three months they had marry'd been, a thumping boy popp'd out; ads---- says he you confounded queen, why what have you been about? you're a strumpet cries he, you're a cuckold cries she, and when he found he was thus betray'd; there was fighting and scratching, and rogueing and bitching, because she had prov'd a jade. _a_ song, _tune of chickens and sparrow-grass._ what sayest thou, if one should thrust thee thro'? what sayest thou, if one shou'd plough? i say sir, you may do what you please, i shall scarce stir, tho' you ne'er cease, thro', thro', you may thrust me thro'. such death is a pleasure, when life's a disease. _the precaution'd_ nymph, _set by_ l. ramondon. [music] go, go, go, go falsest of thy sex be gone, leave, leave, oh leave, leave me to my self alone; why wou'd you strive by fond pretence, thus to destroy my innocence. know, _cælia_ you too late betray'd, then thus you did the nymph upbraid; love like a dream usher'd by night, flyes the approach of morning light. go falsest of your sex begone, oh! leave me to my self alone; she that believes man when he swears, or but regards his oaths or pray'rs, may she, fond she, be most accurst, nay more, be subject to his lust. _the life and death of sir_ hugh _of the_ grime. _to the tune of_ chevy-chace. as it befel upon one time, about _mid-summer_ of the year; every man was taxt of his crime, for stealing the good lord bishop's mare. the good lord _screw_ sadled a horse, and rid after the same serime; before he did get over the moss, there was he aware of sir _hugh_ of the _grime_. turn, o turn, thou false traytor, turn and yield thy self unto me; thou hast stol'n the lord bishop's mare, and now thinkest away to flee. no, soft lord _screw_, that may not be, here is a broad sword by my side; and if that thou canst conquer me, the victory will soon be try'd. i ne'er was afraid of a traytor bold, altho' thy name be _hugh_ in the _grime_; i'll make thee repent thy speeches foul, if day and life but give me time. then do thy worst, good lord _screw_, and deal your blows as fast as you can; it will be try'd between me and you, which of us two shall be the best man. thus as they dealt their blows so free, and both so bloody at that time; over the moss ten yeomen they see, come for to take sir _hugh_ in the _grime_. sir _hugh_ set his back again a tree, and then the men compast him round; his mickle sword from his hand did flee, and then they brought sir _hugh_ to the ground. sir _hugh_ of the _grime_ now taken is, and brought back to _garland_ town; then cry'd the good wives all in _garland_ town, sir _hugh_ in the _grime_, thou'st ne'er gang down. the good lord bishop is come to town, and on the bench is set so high; and every man was tax'd to his crime, at length he call'd sir _hugh_ in the _grime_. here am i, thou false bishop, thy humours all to fulfil; i do not think my fact so great, but thou may'st put into thy own will. the quest of jury-men was call'd, the best that was in _garland_ town; eleven of them spoke all in a-breast, sir _hugh_ in the _grime_ thou'st ne'er gang down. then other questry-men was call'd, the best that was in _rumary_; twelve of them spoke all in a-breast, sir _hugh_ in the _grime_ thou'st now guilty. then came down my good lord _boles_, falling down upon his knee; five hundred pieces of gold will i give, to grant sir _hugh_ in the _grime_ to me. peace, peace, my good lord _boles_, and of your speeches set them by; if there be eleven _grimes_ all of a name, then by my own honour they all should dye. then came down my good lady _ward_, falling low upon her knee; five hundred measures of gold i'll give, and grant sir _hugh_ of the _grime_ to me. peace, peace, my good lady _ward_, none of your proffers shall him buy, for if there be twelve _grimes_ all of a name, by my own honour all should dye. sir _hugh_ of the _grime's_ condemn'd to dye, and of his friends he had no lack; fourteen foot he leapt in his ward, his hands bound fast upon his back. then he look'd over his left shoulder, to see whom he could see or 'spye; there was he aware of his father dear, came tearing his hair most pitifully. peace, peace, my father dear, and of your speeches set them by; tho' they have bereav'd me of my life, they cannot bereave me of heaven so high. he look'd over his right shoulder, to see whom he could see or 'spye; there was he aware of his mother dear, came tearing her hair most pitifully. pray have me remember'd to _peggy_ my wife, as she and i walk'd over the moor; she was the cause of the loss of my life, and with the old bishop she play'd the whore. here _johnny armstrong_, take thou my sword; that is made of the metal so fine; and when thou com'st to the border side, remember the death of sir _hugh_ of the _grime_. _the disappointed_ taylor: _or good work done for nothing._ [music] a taylor good lord, in the time of vacation, when cabbage was scarce and when pocket was low, for the sale of good liquor pretended a passion, to one that sold ale in a cuckoldy row: now a louse made him itch, here a scratch, there a stitch, and sing cucumber, cucumber ho. one day she came up, when at work in his garret, to tell what he ow'd, that his store he might know; says he it is all very right i declare it, says she then i hope you will pay e'er i go? now a louse, _&c._ says prick-louse my jewel, i love you most dearly, my breast every minute still hotter does grow, i'll only says she for the juice of my barly, and other good drink in my cellar below: now a louse made him itch, here a scratch, there a stitch, and sing cucumber, cucumber ho. says he you mistake, 'tis for something that's better, which i dare not name, and you care not to show; says she i'm afraid you are given to flatter, what is it you mean, and pray where does it grow: now a louse, _&c._ says he 'tis a thing that has never a handle, 'tis hid in the dark, and it lies pretty low; says she then i fear that you must have a candle, or else the wrong way you may happen to go: now a louse, _&c._ says he was it darker than ever was charcole, tho' i never was there, yet the way do i know; says she if it be such a terrible dark hole, don't offer to grope out your way to it so: now a louse, _&c._ says he you shall see i will quickly be at it, for this is, oh this is the way that i'll go; says she do not tousle me so for i hate it, i vow by and by you will make me cry oh: so they both went to work, now a kiss, then a jirk, and sing cucumber, cucumber ho. the taylor arose when the business was over, says he you will rub out the score e'er you go; says she i shall not pay so dear for a lover, i'm not such a fool i would have you to know: now a louse made him itch, here a scratch, there a stitch, and sing cucumber, cucumber ho. _the penurious_ quaker: _or, the high priz'd_ harlot. [music] _quaker._ my friend thy beauty seemeth good, we righteous have our failings; i'm flesh and blood, methinks i cou'd, wert thou but free from ailings. _harlot._ believe me sir i'm newly broach'd, and never have been in yet; i vow and swear i ne'er was touch'd, by man 'till this day sennight. _quaker._ then prithee friend, now prithee do, nay, let us not defer it; and i'll be kind to thee when thou hast laid the evil spirit. _harlot._ i vow i won't, indeed i shan't, unless i've money first, sir; for if i ever trust a saint, i wish i may be curst, sir. _quaker._ i cannot like the wicked say, i love thee and adore thee, and therefore thou wilt make me pay, so here is six pence for thee. _harlot._ confound you for a stingy whig, do ye think i live by stealing; farewel you puritannick prig, i scorn to take your shilling. _a_ song. _tune of the_ old rigadoon: _lais_ when you lye wrapp'd in charms, in your spouses arms, how can you deny, the youth to try, what is his due. sure you ne'er have been touch'd by man, that you ne'er can, admit the slave. come let him in, and if he does not pay what he owes, ne'er trust the fool again. let another spark supply his place, for a woman should not want; and nature sure ne'er made a man so base, but with asking he would grant: but if all mankind were agreed to spoil your race, by _jove_ my dear they shan't. _the travelling_ tinker, _and the country_ ale-wife: _or, the lucky mending of the leaky_ copper. [music] a comely dame of _islington_, had got a leaky copper; the hole that let the liquor run, was wanting of a stopper: a jolly _tinker_ undertook, and promised her most fairly; with a thump thump thump, and knick knack knock, to do her business rarely. he turn'd the vessel to the ground, says he a good old copper; but well may't leak, for i have found a hole in't that's a whopper: but never doubt a _tinkers_ stroke, altho' he's black and surly, with a thump thump thump, _&c._ he'll do your business purely. the man of mettle open'd wide, his budget's mouth to please her, says he this tool we oft employ'd, about such jobbs as these are: with that the jolly _tinker_ took, a stroke or two most kindly; with a thump thump thump, _&c._ he did her business finely. as soon as crock had done the feat, he cry'd 'tis very hot ho; this thrifty labour makes me sweat, here, gi's a cooling pot ho: says she bestow the other stroke, before you take your farewel; with a thump thump thump, _&c._ and you may drink a barrel. _a_ song. _set by mr._ john abell. i'll press, i'll bless thee charming fair, thou darling of my heart; i'll press, i'll bless thee charming fair, thou darling of my heart: i'll clasp, i'll grasp thee close my dear, and doat on every part. i'll clasp, i'll grasp thee close my dear, and doat on every part! i'll bless thee now thou darling, thou darling of my heart; i'll bless thee now, _&c._ with fond excess of pleasure, i'll make the panting cry, panting cry; then wisely use your treasure, then wisely use your treasure, refusing, still comply. _a_ song. [music] what shall i do, i've lost my heart, 'tis gone, 'tis gone i know not whither; love cut its strings, then lent it wings and both are flown together: fair ladies tell for love's sweet sake, did any of you find it? come, come it lies, in your lips or eyes, tho' you'll not please to mind it. but if't be lost, then farewel frost, i will enquire no more; for ladies they steal hearts away, but only to restore: _for ladies they_, &c. tune, _si votr' epousa_. _chloris_ can you forgive the fault that i have done; _chloris_ can you forgive me when i sue, faith it is true, that had you let me farther gone, i had ruin'd you, and mischiev'd my self too: yet i ne'er should have ventur'd on a maid so chast, had not your eye, shot thro' my soul, and conjur'd all the sense away, that there did lye. _lumps of_ pudding. [music] when i was in the low country, when i was in the low country; what slices of pudding and pieces of bread, my mother gave me when i was in need. my mother she killed a good fat hog, she made such puddings would choak a dog; and i shall ne'er forget 'till i dee, what lumps of pudding my mother gave me. she hung them up upon a pin, the fat run out and the maggots crept in; if you won't believe me you may go and see, what lumps, _&c._ and every day my mother would cry, come stuff your belly girl until you die; 'twou'd make you to laugh if you were to see, what lumps, _&c._ i no sooner at night was got into bed, but she all in kindness would come with speed; she gave me such parcels i thought i should dee, with eating of pudding, _&c._ at last i rambled abroad and then, i met in my frolick an honest man; quoth he my dear _philli_ i'll give unto thee, such pudding you never did see. said i honest man, i thank thee most kind, and as he told me indeed i did find; he gave me a lump which did so agree, one bit was worth all my mother gave me. _the_ quaker's song. [music] walk up to virtue strait, and from all vice retire; turn not on this hand nor on that, to compass thy desire. side not with wicked ones, nor such as are prophane; but side with good and goodly ones, that come from _amsterdam_. arm not thy self with pride, that's not the way to bliss; but arm thy self with holy zeal, and take this loving kiss. _a_ song. [music] _lorenzo_ you amuse the town, and with your charms undo, sir; _laurinda_ can resist a frown, but must not be from you, sir: you make them all resign their hearts, and fix their eyes a gazing; the _porcupine_ has not more darts, from every part amazing. you bill and cooe when you are kind, and happy's the nymph believes you; you are true, but you are not blind, for never a nymph deceives you; tho' she were naught, you'll ne'er be caught, but still have your wits about you; you're a hero, and you have fought, there's ne'er a hector can flout you. you are good, and you are bad, and you can be what you please, sir; you are an honest trusty lad, and i'll wager ne'er had the disease, sir: then here's to you, a glass or two, for farther i dare not venture; and then my dear i bid thee adieu, for i must be now a dissenter. _a_ song. _tune of_ oh! how happy's he. _pag._ . ah! how happy's he, lives from drinking free, can enjoy his humour, paper and his pen; nor ensnar'd with wine, or some whores design, but in harmless sonnets thinking does ever mend; prigs shall never vex him, pox shall ne'er perplex him, if his pocket's full, sits down and counts his joy; if it be not so, takes a tune or two, 'till by wise content, his trouble does destroy. when a monarch reels, he his thoughts conceals, whether whig or _tory_, never does express; with a sober dose of _coffee_ funks his nose, and reading all the news does leave the world to guess: but when his noddle's full, o then he hugs his soul, and homeward flush'd with joy does trudge apace, when on pillow laid, then with mind display'd argues with himself the queen and nation's case. _a_ song. [music] had i but love, i'd quit all treasure, had i but love, i'd envy none above: camp and court, have no such pleasure; camp and court, have both such pretty sport. _wo_. let me alone, let me alone, says the fool, or i'll cry out, sir; _man_. prithee do, prithee do, with all my soul, but you shan't stir. such is love, and such is living, such is love, and such was mighty _jove_: gods and kings, have both been contriving, gods and kings, to catch these pretty things. _wo_. let me go, what d'ye do, pray forbear, alass i cannot bear it; _man_. hold your tongue, hold your tongue, never fear you peevish chit. _a_ song. _set by mr._ frank. love's passion never knew 'till this, a blissful happiness like mine; with joy now _cælia_ crowns my wish, and _cupid_ both our hearts does joyn: with joy now _cælia_ crowns my wish. and _cupid_ both our hearts does joyn. whene'er our hearts dart fiery beams, fierce as the pangs of our desires; the meeting glances kindle flames more pure than fancyed fires: then _cælia_ let's no pleasure want, to perfect the most happy state; the bliss you fear too soon to grant, you'll rather think enjoyed too late. _a_ song. _set by mr._ abell. [music] _cælia_ be not too complying, ease not soon a lovers pain; love increases by denying, soon we leave what soon we gain. cælia _be not too complying_, &c. if in courtship you're delighting, and wou'd no adorer loose; let your looks be still inviting, but your vertue still refuse. _let your looks be still inviting_, &c. _a_ song. _set by mr._ abell. [music] a little love may prove a pleasure, too great a passion is a pain; when we our flame by reason measure, blest is our fate, and light our chain: who then would long a slave remain? true hearts are like a fairy treasure, talk'd of, but ever sought in vain; a little love may prove a pleasure, too great a passion is a pain. _a_ song. [music] when first i lay'd siege to my _chloris_, when first i lay'd siege to my _chloris_: cannon oaths i brought down, to batter the town, and boom'd her with amorous stories. billet deux like small shot did so ply her, billet deux like small shot did so ply her; and sometimes a song, went whistling along, yet still i was never the nigher. at length she sent word by a trumpet, at length she sent word by a trumpet, that if i lik'd the life, she would be my wife, but she would be no man's strumpet. i told her that _mars_ wou'd ne'er marry, i told her that _mars_ wou'd ne'er marry; i swore by my scars, got in combates and wars, that i'd rather dig stones in a quarry. at length she granted the favour, at length she granted the favour; with the dull curse, for better for worse, and saved the parson the labour. _a_ song. _set by seignor_ baptist. [music] why alas do you now leave me, you who vow'd a love so true; can you hope whilst you deceive me, others will be just to you? oh you know what you forsake, you're pursuing, my undoing, but you know not what you take. is your fit of passion over, will you kill me dear unkind; is your heart then such a rover, as no vows, no oaths can bind: hear at least my last adieu, see me lying, see me dying, and remember 'tis for you. _a_ song. _set by mr._ akeroyde. [music] when beauty such as yours has mov'd desires, a kind return, a kind return, should raise the glowing fires; but tho' you hate me, i am still devoted wholly to your will: not all your frowns can quench my flame, my love is something more than name, and as it ought, will ever, ever be the same. _a_ song. _set by mr._ frank. [music] see bleeding at your feet there lies, one murder'd by disdain; that heart you wounded with your eyes, is by your rigour slain: expiring now i cannot live, death no delay will brook, unless some pitying word you give, or kind relenting look, or kind relenting look. for then from fate by rapture born, and taken from your arms; the heart thus rescued from your scorn, i'll offer to your charms: love's eager rites, i'll then pursue, and sacrificing dye; altar and beauteous goddess you, and priest, and victim i. _the good fellow's resolve_: _tune_ as _may_ was in her youthful dress. _vol._ . _p._ . now i'm resolv'd to love no more, but sleep by night, and drink by day; your coyness _chloris_ pray give o'er, and turn your tempting eyes away: i'll place no happiness of mine, on fading beauty still to court; and say she's glorious and divine, when there's in drinking better sport. love has no more prerogative, to make me desperate courses take; nor me of _bacchus_ joys deprive, for them i _venus_ will forsake: despise the feeble nets she lays, and scorn the man she can o'ercome; in drinking we see happy days, but in a fruitless passion none. 'tis wine alone that cheers the soul, but love and women make us sad; i'm merry while i court the bowl, whilst he that courts his madam's mad. then fill it up boys to the brim, since in it we refreshment find; come here's a bumper unto him, that courts good wine, not woman-kind. _a_ song. _set by mr._ frank. [music] when crafty fowlers would surprize, the harmonious lark that soars on high it is by glancing in his eyes, the sun-shine rays which draws him nigh: _it is by_, &c. charm'd with reflections from the glase, he flies with eager hasty speed; ceasing the musick of his lays, into the nets the fowler spread. so when _clemelia_ would obtain, the prey her fancy most desires; she spreads her dress like nets in vain, and all her youthful gay attires. 'till watching opportunity, she throws an amorous charming glance, then to her net the youth does flie, and lies entangled in a trance. _a_ song. _set by dr._ blow. [music] boasting fops who court the fair, for the fame of being lov'd; you who daily prating are of the hearts your charms have mov'd, still be vain in talk and dress, but while shadows you pursue; own that some who boast it less, may be blest as much as you. love and birding are ally'd, baits and nets alike they have; the same arts in both are try'd, the unwary to inslave; if in each you'd happy prove, without noise still watch your way; for in birding and in love, while we talk it flies away. _a_ song. must love, that tyrant of the breast, have all our songs, have all our hours; whilst he alone disturbs our rest, and with his cares our hearts devours, and with his cares our hearts devours: no more let's blame ignoble souls, who doat on arbitrary powers; since cruel love our wills controuls, yet all the world, yet all the world the toy adores. for shame let's break the feeble bonds, and our old liberty regain; love against reason seldom stands, whenever that sways, its power is vain: when man the prize of freedom knows, _cupid_ is easily out-brav'd; the bug-bear only conquers those, who fondly seek to be enslav'd. _the woman's complaint to her neighbour._ [music] good morrow gossip _joan_, where have you been a walking? i have for you at home, a budget full of talking, gossip _joan_. my sparrow's flown away, and will no more come to me; i've broke a glass to day, the price will quite undo me, gossip _joan_. i've lost a _harry_ groat, was left me by my granny; i cannot find it out, i've search'd in every cranny, gossip _joan_. my goose has laid away, i know not what's the reason; my hen has hatch'd to day, a week before the season, gossip _joan_. i've lost my wedding-ring, that was made of silver gilt; i had drink would please a king, and the whorish cat has spill'd it, gossip _joan_. my duck has eat a snail, and is not that a wonder; the horns bud out at tail, and have split her rump asunder, gossip _joan_. my pocket is cut off, that was full of sugar-candy; i cannot stop my cough, without a gill of brandy, gossip _joan_. o i am sick at heart, therefore pray give me some ginger; i cannot sneeze or fart, therefore pray put in finger, gossip _joan_. o pitty, pitty me, or i shall go distracted; i have cry'd 'till i can't see, to think how things are acted, gossip _joan_. let's to the ale-house go, and wash down all my sorrow; my griefs you there shall know, and we'll meet again to morrow, gossip _joan_. _a_ song, _set by mr._ jer. clark. [music] i'm vext to think that _damon_ wooes me, who with sighs and tears pursues me; he still whining and repining, of my rigour does complain: i'd not see him, yet wou'd free him, and my self, my self from pain: i'll enjoy him, and so cloy him, love cures love, more, more than disdain. _a_ song, _by mr._ burkhead. [music] claspt in my dear _melinda's_ arms, soft engaging, oh how she charms; graces more divine, in her person shine, then _venus_ self cou'd ever boast. in the softest moments of love, melting, panting, oh how she moves; come, come, come my dear, now we've nought to fear, mortal sure was never so blest, come, come, come, _&c._ pray don't trifle, my dearest forbear, i shall die with transports i fear; clasp me fast my life, 'twill more pleasure give, both our stocks of love let's joyn, clasp me, _&c._ now our souls are charm'd in bliss, raptures flow from every kiss; words cannot reveal, the fierce joys i feel, 'tis too much to bear and live, words cannot, _&c._ _a_ song, _in the_ play _call'd the ladies fine aires: sung by mr._ pack, _in the figure of a_ bawd. _set by mr._ barrett. [music] how happy are we, who from thinking are free, that curbing disease o'the mind: can indulge every tast, love where we like best, not by dull reputation confin'd. when we're young fit to toy, gay delights we enjoy, and have crowds of new lovers wooing; when we're old and decay'd, we procure for the trade, still in ev'ry age we're doing. if a cully we meet, we spend what we get, e'ery day for the next never think: when we dye where we go, we have no sense to know, for a bawd always dyes in her drink. _a_ song. _set by mr._ forcer. [music] farewel my useless scrip, and poor unheeded flocks; no more you'll round me trip, nor cloath me with your locks: feed by yon purling stream, where _jockey_, where _jockey_ first i knew: i only think, i only think, i only think on him, i cannot, cannot, cannot think on you. farewel each shepherdess, the bonny lads adieu; may each his wish possess, and to that wish be true: your oaten pipes cou'd please, but _jockey_ then was kind; your bonny tunes may cease, the lad has chang'd his mind. _a_ song. _set by mr._ frank. [music] ere _phillis_ with her looks did kill, my heart resisting, my heart resisting them was ill; now in its wounds it finds a cure, when most they bleed, i least endure. for tho' 'tis death those looks to meet, there's life in dying at her feet; kill _phillis_ then, kill with your eyes, if you let _strephon_ live he dyes. _a_ song. _set by mr._ king. [music] not your eyes _melania_ move me, not your flowring charms or wit; not your daily vows to love me, make my easy soul submit. shape nor dress can never sway me, nor the softest looks betray me; _shape nor face can never sway me,_ _nor the softest looks betray me._ but your mind, my dear, subdues me, where a thousand graces shine; goodness, love, and honour moves me, and my passion's all divine. goodness as a boundless treasure, yields the purest sweetest pleasure. _a_ song. [music] then come kind _damon_, come away, to _cynthia's_ power advance: the _sylvians_ they shall pipe and play, and we'll lead up, and we'll lead up, and we'll lead up the dance: the _sylvians_ they shall pipe and play, and we'll lead up, and we'll lead up, and we'll lead up the dance; the _sylvians_ they, _&c._ smile then with a beam divine, we'll be blest if you but shine; happy then our pains and toils, wit only lives when beauty smiles: happy then our pains and toils, wit only lives, wit only lives, when beauty smiles; wit only lives, _&c._ _the soldiers return from the wars, or the maids and widdows rejoycing._ _tune page_ . at the change as i was walking, i heard a discourse of peace; the people all were a talking, that the tedious wars will cease: and if it do prove but true, the maids will run out of their houses, _to see the troopers all come home,_ _and the grenadiers with their drum a drum drum,_ _then the widdows shall all have spouses._ the scarlet colour is fine, sir, all others it doth excel; the trooper has a carbine, sir, that will please the maidens well: and when it is cock'd and prim'd, sir, the maids will run out of their houses, _to see the troopers come come come_, &c. there's _joan_, and _betty_, and _nelly_, and the rest of the female crew; each has an itch in her belly, to play with the scarlet hue: and _marg'ret_ too must be peeping, _to see the troopers_, &c. the landladys are preparing, her maids are shifting their smocks; each swears she'll buy her a fairing, and opens her _christmas-box_: she'll give it all to the red-coats, _when as the troopers_, &c. _jenny_ she lov'd a trooper, and she shew'd her all her gear; _doll_ has turn'd off the cooper, and now for a grenadier: his hand grenadoes they will please her, _when as the troopers_, &c. old musty maids that have money, although no teeth in their heads; may have a bit for their bunny, to pleasure them in their beds: their hearts will turn to the red-coats, _when as the troopers_, &c. the widdows now are a singing, and have thrown their peaks aside; for they have been us'd to stinging, when their garters were unty'd: but the red-coats they will tye 'em, _when as the troopers_, &c. wives and widdows and maidens, i'm sure this news will please ye; if any with maiden-heads laden, the red-coats they will ease ye: then all prepare to be happy, _to see the troopers all come home_, &c. _a_ song. _tune of_ old boree. come _cælia_ come, let's sit and talk a while, about the affairs of loving: let a mutual kiss our cares and fears beguile, far distant from this grove: let's pass our time in mirth away, now we're remov'd from the noisy, noisy court, now we're got out of the stormy sea, into the safer port. _a_ song. _set by mr._ damascene. [music] who can _dorinda's_ beauty view, and not her captive be; _apollo_, _daphne_ did pursue, embraced the maid, though chang'd to a tree: if god's could love at such a rate, poor mortals must adore: _dorinda's_ merit is as great; 'tis just, 'tis just to love her more. _a_ hymn _upon the execution of two_ criminals, _by mr._ ramondon. [music] all you that must take a leap in the dark, pity the fate of _lawson_ and _clark_; cheated by hope, by mercy amus'd, betray'd by the sinful ways we us'd: cropp'd in our prime of strength and youth, who can but weep at so sad a truth; _cropp'd in our prime_, &c. once we thought 'twould never be night, but now alass 'twill never be light; heavenly mercy shine on our souls, death draws near, hark, _sepulchres_ bell toles: nature is stronger in youth than in age, grant us thy spirit lord grief to assuage: courses of evil brought us to this, sinful pleasure, deceitful bliss: we ne'er shou'd have cause so much to repent, could we with our callings have been but content: the snares of wine and women fair, first were the cause that we now despair. you that now view our fatal end, warn'd by our case your carriage mend; soon or late grim death will come, who'd not prepare for a certain doom: span long life with lifeless joys, what's in this world but care and noise. youth, tho' most blest by being so, as vast thy joy, as great thy woe; ev'ry sin that gives delight, will in the end the soul affright: 'tis not thy youth, thy wealth nor strength, can add to life one moments length. god is as merciful as just, cleanse our hearts, since die we must: sweet temptations of worldly joys, makes for our grief, and our peace destroys, think then when man his race has run, death is the prize which he has won. sure there's none so absurd and odd, to think with the fool there is no god; what is't we fear when death we meet, where't not t' account at the judgment-seat: that providence we find each hour, proves a supernatural power; in mercy open thy bright abode, receive our souls tremendous god. _the_ british accountant. [music] you ladies draw near, i can tell you good news, if you please to give ear, or else you may choose; of a _british accountant_ that's frolick and free, who does wondrous feats by the rule of three. _addition_, _division_, and other such rules, i'll leave to be us'd by your scribling fools; this art is improv'd unto such a degree, that he manages all by the rule of three. you dames that are wed who can make it appear, that you lose an estate for want of an heir: this _accountant_ will come without e'er a fee, and warrants a boy by his rule of three. is the widdow distress'd for the loss of her spouse, tho' to have him again she cares not a louse; her wants he supplys whatsoever they be, and all by his art in the rule of three. do you dream in the night and fret at your fate, for want of the man when you happen to wake; you may presently send and satisfy'd be, that he pacifies all by the rule of three. you ladies who are with a husband unblest, and are minded to make him a delicate beast; he'll fix the brow-antlers just where they should be, and all by his art in the rule of three. you lasses at large of the true female race, who are glad of the men who will lye on their face; do but try the bold _britton_, you all will agree, that you never did know such a rule of three. _a_ song. _set by mr._ frank. the night is come that will allow, no longer any coyness now, but every freedom must to love be given; what tho' the shadows of the night, withdraw her beauty from his sight, the youth another way, another way, another way will find his heav'n. see, see the charming nymph is lay'd, never again to rise a maid, the vigorous bridegroom now impatient grown; thrown himself by her side, with eager joy, and amourous pride, ready to seize the prey that's now his own. and now that all have left the place, transporting joys crowd on apace, the nymph contends like one that would not win; entrain'd with pleasure now she lies, the youth has gain'd the noble prize, and now her fears are past, and joys begin. _a_ song. _the words by mr._ escourt. [music] you tell me _dick_ you've lately read that we are beaten in _spain_; but prithee boy hold up thy head, we'll beat 'em twice for it again _with a fal la la la la la la la._ is this the courage you us'd to boast, why thou art quite cast down; you can reflect on what we've lost, but ne'er think what we've won, _with a fal_, &c. what tho' _jack spaniard_ crack and bounce, he ne'er shall do so again; we took last year as many towns, as they have now took men, _with a fal_, &c. in war and gaming it is the same, according to the old saying; who's sure to conquer ev'ry game, quite loses the pleasure of playing: _with a fal_, &c. i think we have a man of our own, a man if i may call him so; for after those great deeds he has done, i may question if he's so or no, _with a fal_, &c. but now if you wou'd know his name, 'tis _johnny marlborough_; the beaten _french_ has felt his fame, and so shall the spaniards too, _with a fal_, &c. and since we cannot justice do, to ev'ry victory; in a full glass our zeal let's show, to our general's family, _with a fal_, &c. for he has eight fair daughters, and each of them is a charmer; there's lady _railton_, _bridgwater_, fine _sunderland_, lady _mount-hermer_, _with a fal_, &c. the other four so charming are, they will with raptures fill ye; there's lady _hochstet_, _schellenburgh_, bright _blenheim_, and lady _ramillie_, _with a fal_, &c. the last were got so fair and strong, as in story ne'er was told; the first four always will be young, and the last will never be old, _with a fal_, &c. at ev'ry feast, e'er we are all deceas'd, and the service begins to be hard; 'tis surely your duty, to toast a young beauty, call'd madamosel _audenard_, _with a fal_, &c. all joy to his grace, for the ninth of his race, she's as fair as most of the former; but where is that he, dare so impudent be, to compare her to lady _mount-hermer_, _with a fal_, &c. and now to make thy hopes more strong, and make you look like a man; remember that all these belong, to the queen of great _britain_, _with a fal_, &c. then prithee _dick_ hold up thy head, altho' we were beaten in _spain_; as sure as scarlet colour is red, we'll beat them twice for it again: _with a fal_, &c. _a_ song. let those youths who freedom prize, far from the conquering _sylvia_ run, never see her killing eyes, or hear her soft enchanting tongue: for such sure destruction waits, on those darts with which she wounds; no shepherd ever can escape, but falls if _sylvia_ does but frown. _damon_ to his cost has prov'd, all resistance is but vain; heaven has form'd her to be lov'd, and made her queen of all the plain: _damon_ when he saw her face, from her beauty would have fled; but the charmer turn'd her voice, and with a song she struck him dead. _a_ song. [music] your melancholy's all a folly, the peace i'm sure is sign'd; the _french_ are for't, so is our court, and the _dutch_ must be inclin'd: what is't to us who's king of _spain_, so we are masters of the main, our fleet must always the trade maintain, if we are not banter'd and bubbl'd. and cheated and banter'd and bubbl'd. we very well know when _marlborough_, did take the towns in _flanders_; 'twas _english-men_, did pay for them, tho' they put in _dutch_ commanders; so that while we were humbling _france_, _hollands_ power we did advance, and made 'em great at our expence, and so we were banter'd, _&c._ we must suppose, the whigs are foes, when treatys they will sign a; to give the _dutch_ so plaguy much, and call it the barrier line a: for how can we great _europe_ sway, or keep the ballance every way, i fear we shall pay for't another day, for we have been banter'd, _&c._ for liberty, and property, 'twas once we us'd to fight; 'gainst popery, and slavery, we did it with our might: but now the taxes make us poor, the emperor may swear and roar, we neither can nor will do more, for we have been banter'd, _&c._ fanaticks then, are now the men, who kingly pow'r divide; their villany to monarchy, 'tis makes 'em _france_ deride: if _hollanders_ wou'd choose a king, as much as now their praises sing, they wou'd curse, and damn, and fling, and cry they were banter'd, _&c._ i swear adsnigs, the canting whigs, have run their knavish race; the church and queen, are flourishing, now they are in disgrace: great _harly_ he has set us right, and _france_ will banish _perkenite_, so we're no more the _holland_ bite, nor will we be banter'd and bubbl'd, and cheated and banter'd and bubbl'd. _the_ mohocks. _a_ song. [music] there's a new set of rakes, entitled mohocks, who infest her majesties subjects; he who meets 'em at night, must be ready for flight, or withstanding he many a drub gets. in their nightly patrole, they up and down rowle, to the bodily fear of the nation; some say they are gentle- men, otherwise simple, and their sense like their reputation. others say that the van's led by noblemen, tho' to forreigners this will but sound ill; but let 'em take care, how they manage th' affair; for a lord may be kill'd by a scoundrel. some count it a plot, and the lord knows what, contriv'd by the whigs out of season; but shou'd it be so, by the _high-church_ or _low_, rebellion was always high treason. fie, curb the disgrace, 'tis imprudent and base, pray take the advice of a stranger; but if you go on, like fools as ye've done, when ye're hang'd ye'll be quite out of danger. tune _of joy to the bridegroom_. my _theodora_ can those eyes, from whence those glories always shine: give light to every soul that prys, and only be obscure to mine: _give light to every soul that prys_, _and only be obscure to mine._ send out one beam t' enrich my soul, that doth in clouds of darkness roul; and chase away this gloomy shade, that in my breast a hell has made: _and chase away this gloomy shade_, _that in my breast a hell has made._ where fire burns, where flame is bright, yet i the comfort want of light: o shine, then shine upon the man, that else in darkness is undone: _o shine, then shine upon the man_, _that else in darkness is undone._ _a_ song _in praise of_ begging: _or, the beggars rivall'd._ [music] tho' begging is an honest trade, which wealthy knaves despise; yet rich men may be beggars made, and we that beg may rise: the greatest kings may be betray'd, and lose their sov'raign power, but he that stoops to ask his bread, but he that stoops to ask his bread, can never fall much lower. what lazy foreigns swarm'd of late, has spoil'd our begging-trade; yet still we live and drink good beer, tho' they our rights invade: some say they for religion fled, but wiser people tell us, they were forc'd abroad to seek their bread, for being too rebellious. let heavy taxes greater grow, to make our army fight; where 'tis not to be had you know, the king must lose his right: let one side laugh, the other mourn, we nothing have to fear; but that great lords will beggars be, to be as great as we are. what tho' we make the world believe, that we are sick or lame; 'tis now a virtue to deceive, our teachers do the same: in trade dissembling is no crime, and we may live to see; that begging in a little time, the only trade will be. tune, _let_ cÆsar _rejoyce_. _alphonzo_, if you sir, your heart have resign'd; take care what you do, sir, for a lover is blind. beware of the snare, that for lovers is laid: beware of the fair, but more treacherous maid: for when tir'd with the joy, of a minutes delight; you'll repent the next morn, what you did over night. _a new_ ballad, _sung at_ messieurs brook _and_ hellier's _club, at the_ temple-_tavern in_ fleet-street. [music] since _tom's_ in the chair, and e'ery one here appears in gay humour and easie; say, why shou'd not i, a new ballad try, bright brethren o'th' bottle to please ye. this wine is my theme, this is all on's esteem, for _brook_ and _hellier_ cannot wrong us; let them get wealth, who keeps us in health, by bringing neat liquors among us, _let them get wealth_, &c. each vintner of late, has got an estate, by brewing and sophistication: with syder and sloes, they've made a damn'd dose, has poisoned one half of the nation: but _hellier_ and _brook_, a method have took, to prove them all scoundrels and noddys; and shew'd us a way which (if we don't stray) will save both our pockets and bodies. this generous juice, brisk blood will produce, and stupid ones raise to the bonny'st: make poets and wits, of you that are cits, and lawyers (if possible) honest: if any are sick, or find themselves weak, with symptoms of gout or the scurvy; this will alone, the doctor must own, _probatum est_ healthy preserve ye. have any here wives, that lead 'em sad lives, for you know what pouting and storming; then drink of this wine, and it will incline, the weakest to vig'rous performing: each spouse will say then, pray go there agen, tho' money for the reck'ning you borrow; nay, for so much bub, here i'll pay your club, so go there agen dear to morrow. tho' one drinks red port, another's not for't, but chuses _vienna_ or white-wine; each takes what suits best, his stomach or tast, yet e'ery one's sure he drinks right wine; thus pledg'd we all sit, and thus we are knit, in friendship together the longer; as musick in parts, enlivens our hearts, and renders the harmony stronger. now god bless the queen, peers, parliament men, and keep 'em like us in true concord; and grant that all those, who dare be her foes, at _tyburn_ may swing in a strong cord; we'll loyalists be, and bravely agree, with lives and estates to defend her; so then she'll not care, come peace or come war, for _lewis_, the _pope_, or _pretender_. _the_ london prentice. [music] a worthy _london_ prentice, came to his love by night; the candles were lighted, the moon did shine so bright: he knocked at the door, to ease him of his pain; she rose and let him in love, and went to bed again. he went into the chamber, where his true love did lye; she quickly gave consent, for to have his company: she quickly gave consent, the neighbours peeping out; so take away your hand, love let's blow the candle out. i would not for a crown love, my mistress should it know; i'll in my smock step down love, and i'll out the candle blow; the streets they are so nigh, and the people walk about; some may peep in and spy love, let's blow the candle out. my master and my mistress, upon the bed do lye; injoying one another, why should not you and i: my master kiss'd my mistress, without any fear or doubt; and we'll kiss one another, let's blow the candle out. i prithee speak more softly, of what we have to do; least that our noise of talking, should make our pleasure rue: for kissing one another, will make no evil rout; then let us now be silent, and blow the candle out. but yet he must be doing, he could no longer stay; she strove to blow the candle out, and push'd his hand away: the young man was so hasty, to lay his arms about; but she cryed i pray love, let's blow the candle out. as this young couple sported, the maiden she did blow; but how the candle went out, alas i do not know: said she i fear not now, sir, my master nor my dame; and what this couple did, sir, alas i dare not name. _a_ song _out of the_ guardian. [music] oh the charming month of _may_, when the breezes fan the trees, is full of blossoms fresh and gay, full of blossoms fresh and gay: oh the charming month of _may_, charming, charming month of _may_. oh what joys our prospect yields, in a new livery when we see every, bush and meadow, tree and field, _&c._ oh what joys, _&c._ charming joys, _&c._ oh how fresh the morning air, when the zephirs and the hephirs, their odoriferous breaths compare, oh how fresh, _&c._ charming fresh, _&c._ oh how fine our evenings walk, when the nightingale delighting, with her songs suspends our talk, oh how fine, _&c._ charming fine, _&c._ oh how sweet at night to dream, on mossy pillows by the trillows, of a gentle purling stream, oh how sweet, _&c._ charming sweet, _&c._ oh how kind the country lass, who her cows bilking, leaves her milking, for a green gown upon the grass, oh how kind, _&c._ charming kind, _&c._ oh how sweet it is to spy, at the conclusion, her deep confusion, blushing cheeks and down cast eye, oh how sweet, _&c._ charming sweet, _&c._ oh the charming curds and cream, when all is over she gives her lover, who on her skimming-dish carves her name, oh the charming curds and cream, charming, charming curds and cream. tune, _hopes farewel_. fates i defie, i defie your advances, since _cælia_ has crown'd my true love with a smile; i'll laugh at your darts, your arrows and lances, since her bosom abounds, with the pleasures of nile. you shall never, me from her sever, since that my _cælia_ has thrown by her scorn: then forbear, to come so near, for i from _cælia_ can never be torn. _the country_ farmer's _campaign_: _by the author of_ banter'd and bubbl'd, _&c._ [music] oh _roger_ i've been to see _eugene_, by _villars_ over-reach'd; and that _dutch_ earl, great _albermarle_, so foolishly detach'd: for _phil_ of _spain_, saw _doway_ tain, and _quesnoy_ close beset; saw _frenchmen_ grin, at count _rechstrin_, and _dutchmen_ in a sweat. with both my eyes _auxiliaries_, i saw desert our cause; old _zinzendorf_ did buy 'em off, but never stopp'd their maws: whilst ormond he most orderly, did march them towards _ghent_; the _german_ dogs, with great _dutch_ hogs, their towns against him pent. were not we mad to spend our blood, and weighty treasure so; do they deserve, that we should serve, adad we'll make them know: they'll be afraid, of peace and trade, and downfal of the whigs; our glorious ann, with _france_ and _spain_, will dance then many a jigg. if they have a mind, 'fore peace be sign'd, to own great anna's power; such terms she'll get, as she thinks fit, and they shall have no more: great _oxford's_ earl, that weighty pearl, and minister of state: with _bollingbrook_, i swear adzooks, old _england_ will be great. we farmers then, shall be fine men, and money have good store; their whigish tax they'll have with a pox, when monarchy's no more: my son i'm sure, will ne'er endure, to pay their plaguy funds; 'tis with reproach, they ride in coach, it makes me mad ads-- for twenty years, with popish fears, we have been banter'd much; with liberty, and property, and our very good friends the _dutch_: but now i hope, our eyes are ope, and _france_ is more sincere; then _emperor_ with all his stir, _or dounders divil myn heir._ strawbery. [music] of all the handsome ladies, of whom the town do talk; who do frequent the _opera's_, and in the park do walk: the many lovely beauties, there are who do excel; yet my _strawbery_, my _strawbery_, does bear away the bell. some cry up madam _mar----_ for this thing and for that; and some her grace of _sh----_ tho' she grows something fat: and tho' i love her _ma----_ and all her ladies well, yet my _strawbery_, &c. the kit cat and the toasters, did never care a fig; for any other beauty, besides the little whig: but for all that sir _harry_, that witty knight can tell, 'tis my _strawbery_, &c. the red coats think the _ch----ls_, the fairest in the land; because the d. their father, the ar----y does command: but the noble d. of _b----_ who does all dukes excel, says my _strawbery_, &c. tune, _now the fight's done_. now, now the night's come, and the great god of love lyes lurking in shades, his bright arrows to prove: he laughs at our rest, and he darts at our hearts; and a will that won't still, to each lover imparts. he smiles when he feels the sharp point of his dart; and tho' our breast's steel, yet he drives to the heart. whilst we court and we play, he makes a full pass; and ne'er does delay, 'till we're link'd on the grass. _the_ scotch _wedding: or, lass with the golden hair._ [music] now _jockey_ and _moggy_ are ready, to gang to the kirk to sped; as fine as a laird or lady, for they are resolv'd to wed: come aw let's awa to the wedding, for there will be lilting there; _jockey'll_ be married to _moggy_, the lass with the golden hair, and for a whole month together, brisk _jockey_ a wooing went; 'till _moggy's_ mother and vather, at last gave their consent, _come aw let's_, &c. and there'll be long keel and pottage, and bannarks of barly meal; and ther'll be good sawt herring, to relish a cogue of good ale, _come aw let's_, &c. and there'll be _sawney_ the soater, and _will_ with muckle mow; and there'll be _tommy_ the blutter, and _andrew_ the tinker i trow, _come aw let's_, &c. and there'll be bow-legg'd _bobby_, and thumbless _kate's_ geud man; and there'll be blue cheek'd _dolly_, and _luwry_ the laird of the land, _come aw let's_, &c. and there'll be low lipper _betty_, and pluggy fac'd _wat_ of the mill; and there'll be farnicled _huggy_, that wins at the ho of the hill, _come aw let's_, &c. and there'll be _annester dowgale_, that splay footed _betty_ did wooe; and mincing _bessey_ and _tibely_, and _chrisly_, the belly gut sow, _come aw let's_, &c. and _craney_ that marry'd _steney_, that lost him his brick till his arse; and after was hang'd for stealing, it's well that it happen'd no worse, _come aw let's_, &c. and there'll be hopper-ars'd _nancy_, and _sarey_ fac'd _jenny_ by name; glud _kate_ and fat legg'd _lissey_, the lass with the codling wem. _come aw let's_, &c. and there'll be _jenny_ go gibby, and his glack'd wife _jenny bell_; and messed skin blosen _jordy_, the lad that went scipper himsel. _come aw let's_, &c. there'll be all the lads and lasses, set down in the middle of the hall; to sybouse, and rastack, and carlings, they are both sodden and raw. _come aw let's_, &c. there'll be tart perry and catham, and fish of geud gabback and skate; prosody, and dramuck and brandy, and collard, neats-feet in a plate. _come aw let's_, &c. and there'll be meal, kell and castocks, and skink to sup 'till you rive; and roaches to roast on the gridiron, and flukes that were tane alive, _come aw let's_, &c. cropt head wilks and pangles, and a meal of good sweting to ney; and when you're all burst with eating, we'll rise up and dance 'till we dey: _come aw let's awaw to the wedding, for there will be lilting there;_ jockey'll _be marry'd to_ moggy, _the lass with the golden hair._ _the mistresses: a_ song _set by mr._ james townsend, _the words by mr._ rolfe. [music] _lavia_ would, but dare not venture, fear so much o'er-rules her passion; _chloe_ suffers all to enter, subjects fame to inclination: neither's method i admire, either is in love displeasing; _chloe's_ fondness gluts desire _lavia's_ cowardise is teazing. _cælia_ by a wiser measure, in one faithful swains embraces; pays a private debt to pleasure, yet for chast in publick passes: fair ones follow _cælia's_ notion, free from fear and censure wholly; love, but let it be with caution, for extreams are shame or folly. _a_ song. _set by an eminent master._ when embracing my friends, and quaffing champain; dull phlegmatick spleen, thou assault'st me in vain; dull phlegmatick spleen, thou assault'st me in vain: my pleasures flow pure, without taint or allay; and each glass that i drink, inspires with new joy. my pleasures thus heighten'd, no improvement receive; but what the dear sight of my _phillis_ can give: the charms of her eyes, the force of my wine, do then in harmonious confed'racy joyn: to wrap me with joys, to wrap me with joys, seraphick, seraphick, and divine. _a_ tenement _to let_. [music] i have a tenement to let, i hope will please you all, and if you'd know the name of it, 'tis called _cunny hall_. it's seated in a pleasant vale, beneath a rising hill; this tenement is to be let, to whosoe'er i will. for years, for months, for weeks or days, i'll let this famous bow'r; nay rather than a tennant want, i'd let it for an hour. there's round about a pleasant grove, to shade it from the sun; and underneath is well water that pleasantly does run. where if you're hot you may be cool'd, if cold you may find heat; it is a well contrived spring, not little nor too great. the place is very dark by night, and so it is by day; but when you once are enter'd in, you cannot lose your way. and when you're in, go boldly on, as far as e'er you can; and if you reach to the house top, you'll be where ne'er was man. tune, _draw_ cupid _draw_. here, _chloe_ hear, and do not turn away, from my desire, but quench my fire. and my love's flames allay: and let my song go along, unto compassion move; and make you kind, and bend your mind, and melt you into love. if _chloe_ loves, and constant proves, oh! happy, happy then am i; but if that she unconstant be, and do's delight to rove: as sure as gun, i am undone, and shan't have power to move. _fashionable_ shepherdess, _set by mr._ ramondon. [music] at the break of morning light, when the marbled sky look gay; nature self all perfect bright, smil'd to see the god of day: charming prospect, verdant trees, azure hill, enamell'd sky; birds with warbling throats to please, striving each which shall outvey. _lisbea_ then with wond'rous hast, o'er a green sword plain she flew; thus my angel as she past, the eyes of ev'ry shepherd drew: when they had the nymph espyed, all amazed cry'd there she goes; thus by blooming beauty tryed, thought a second sun arose. ev'ry swain the sun mistook. dazled by refulgent charms; and with joy their flocks forsook, for to follow love's alarms: all 'till now were perfect friends, bound by innocence and truth; 'till sly love to gain his ends, made a difference 'twixt each youth. each expected which should be, made the happy man by love; while for want of liberty, none could truly happy prove: but at length they all arriv'd, to a charming easie grove; where the nymph had well contriv'd, to be happy with her love. there in amorous folding twin'd, _strephon_ with his _lisbea_ lay; both to mutual joys enclin'd, let their inclinations stray: as the curling vines embracing, fondly of the oak around; so the blooming nymphs caressing, of her swain with pleasure crown'd. how surpriz'd were ev'ry swain, when they found the nymph engaged; disappointment heighten'd pain, 'till it made them more enraged: arm your self with resolution, cry'd the most revengeful he; we'll contrive her swains confusion, let him fall as much as we. several punishments they invented, for to torture helpless he; all revengeful, ne'er contented, cruel to a vast degree: one more envious in the rear, thus his sentiments let slip; make him like the cavalier, and for the _opera_ him equip. _a_ scotch song _in the play call'd_ love at first sight: _set by the late mr._ jer. clark. [music] the rosey morn lukes blith and gay, the lads and lasses on the plain; her bonny, bonny sports pass o'er the day, and leave poor _jenny_ tol complain: my _sawndy's_ grown a faithless loon, and given, given _moggy_ that wild heart; which eance he swore was aw my own, but now weese me i've scarce a part. gang thy gate then perjur'd _sawndy_, ise nea mere will mon believe; wou'd ise nere had trusted any, they faw thieves will aw deceive: but gin ere ise get mere lovers, ise dissemble as they do; for since lads are grown like rovers, pray why may na lasses too. _the_ restauration: _or the_ coventry song. . [music] the restauration now's the word, a blessed revolution; that has secur'd the church, the crown, and _england's_ constitution: may ev'ry loyal soul rejoice, may whigs and canters mourn, sir; who ever thought that _coventry_, shou'd make a due return, sir. we rally'd the church-militant, and fell to work ding-dong, sir; _craven_ and _gery_ are the names, that do adorn our song, sir: _beaufort_, _ormond_, _rochester_, and more than we can tell, sir; are themes that well deserve the pen, of brave _sacheverell_, sir. the glorious sons of _warwickshire_, may justly be commended; there's ne'er a member now elect, that ever has offended: _denbigh_ and _craven_ we esteem, a loyal noble pair, sir; and hope to see our worthy friend, great _bromly_ in the chair, sir. _a_ song. such an happy, happy life, ne'er had any other wife; as the loose _corinna_ knows, between her spark, her spark and spouse: the husband lies and winks his eyes, the valiant makes addresses, the wanton lady soon complies, with tenderest caresses. the wife is pleas'd, the husband eas'd, the lover made a drudge, his body's drain'd, his pocket's squeez'd; and who'll his pleasure grudge, _such an happy_, &c. _corinna's_ gay, as flow'rs in _may_, and struts with slanting ayre; the lovers for her pride doth pay, the cuckold's free from care, _such an happy_, &c. collin's _complaint_. [music] despairing besides a clear stream, a shepherd forsaken was laid; and whilst a false nymph was his theme, a willow supported his head: the winds that blew over the plain, to his sighs with a sigh did reply; and the brook in return of his pain, ran mournfully murmuring by. alas silly swain that i was, thus sadly complaining he cry'd; when first i beheld that fair face, 'twere better by far i had dy'd: she talk'd, and i blest the dear tongue, when she smil'd 'twas a pleasure too great; i listned, and cry'd when she sung, was nightingale ever so sweet. how foolish was i to believe, she cou'd doat on so lowly a clown; or that a fond heart wou'd not grieve, to forsake the fine folk of the town: to think that a beauty so gay, so kind and so constant wou'd prove; or go clad like our maidens in gray, or live in a cottage on love. what tho' i have skill to complain, tho' the muses my temples have crown'd; what tho' when they hear my soft strains, the virgins sit weeping around: ah _collin_ thy hopes are in vain, thy pipe and thy lawrel resign; thy false one inclines to a swain, whose musick is sweeter than thine. and you my companions so dear, who sorrow to see me betray'd; whatever i suffer forbear, forbear to accuse my false maid, tho' thro' the wide world we shou'd range, 'tis in vain from our fortunes to fly; 'twas hers to be false and to change, 'tis mine to be constant and die. if whilst my hard fate i sustain, in her breast any pity is found; let her come with the nymphs of the plain, and see me laid low in the ground; the last humble boon that i crave, is to shade me with _cypress_ and _yew_; and when she looks down on my grave, let her own that her shepherd was true. then to her new love let her go, and deck her in golden array; be finest at every fine show, and frolick it all the long day: whilst _collin_ forgotten and gone, no more shall be talk'd of or seen; unless that beneath the pale moon, his ghost shall glide over the green. _the constant_ warrior: _set by mr._ ramondon. farewel _chloe_, o farewel, i'll repair to wars alarms; and in foreign nations tell, of your cruelty and charms: come ye briny billows rowl, and convey me from my soul, come ye briny billows rowl, and convey me from my soul: since the cruel fair, the cause of my despair, has forc'd me hence to go, where stormy winds do blow; where raging seas do toss and mount, with dangers that i can't recount, forgive me showing thus my woe; _where raging seas do toss_, &c. when you hear of deeds in war, acted by your faithful swain; think, oh think, that from afar, 'twas you conquer'd all were slain: for by calling on your name, i conquer'd whereso'er i came; shou'd my fate not be, to keep my body free, from wounds and bruises too, whilst honour i pursue; 'twou'd raise my reputation, my pain i'd lose in passion, and glory that 'twas done for you. shou'd grim death once assail me, it cou'd never fright your slave, fortune self cou'd never fail me, only you can make my grave: my destiny shou'd grant reprieve, i cou'd not die, if you said live: were it to be found, in all the world around, an instance of such love, as you in me may prove: i'd never ask return, but patiently wou'd burn, nor more your generous pity move. o my guardian angel say, can such proofs your passion gain; if it can i'll bless the day, that i venture on the main: then with joy cry billows rowl, and convey me to my soul: return with glory crown'd, upon the lowly ground, kneel at your feet a while, and there my fears beguile: and think my toyl repaid, if you'd vouchsafe dear maid, to crown my labours with a smile. _the true use of the_ bottle. [music] love, the sweets of love, are the joys i most admire, kind and active fire, of a fierce desire, indulge my soul, compleat my bliss; but th' affected coldness of _cælia_ damps my boldness, i must bow, protest and vow, and swear aloud, i wou'd be proud, when she with equal ardour longs to kiss: bring a bowl, then bring a jolly bowl, i'll quench fond love within it; with flowing cups i'll raise my soul, and here's to the happy minute: for flush'd with brisk wine, when she's panting and warm; and nature unguarded lets loose her mind, in the amorous moment the gipsie i'll find, oblige her and take her by storm. _a_ song _in the_ farce _call'd the_ younger _the_ wiser: _set by mr._ daniel purcell. _sung by mr._ leveridge. [music] how happy's he who weds a wife, well practis'd, well practis'd in the _london_ life; dull country brides a sense may want, to hide the favours which they grant. how happy's he who weds a wife, we'll practis'd, well practis'd in the _london_ life; but _london_ wives coquet by rule, discreetly please the men they fool. how happy's he who weds a wife, well practis'd, well practis'd in the _london_ life. _a_ song. _set by mr._ ramondon. _sung at the_ theatre. [music] how charming _phillis_ is, how fair, how charming _phillis_ is, how fair, o that she were as willing, to ease my wounded heart of care, and make her eyes less killing: to ease my wounded heart of care, and make her eyes less killing, to ease my wounded heart of care, and make her eyes less killing, to ease my wounded heart of care, and make her eyes less killing: i sigh, i sigh, i languish now, and love will not let me rest; i drive about the park and bow, where'er i meet my dearest. _a_ song. _set by mr._ berenclow. why will _clemene_, when i gaze, my ravish'd eyes reprove; and chide 'em from the only face, that they were made to love: was not i born to wear your chain, i should delight to rove; from your cold province of disdain, to some warm land of love. but shou'd a gentle nymph when try'd, to me prove well inclin'd; my destin'd heart must yet reside, with you the most unkind; so destin'd exiles as they roam, while kindly us'd elsewhere; still languish after native home, tho' death, death is threatned there. finis. transcriber's note publication date: / author lifespan: - [from english song-books by day and murrie: the origins of wit and mirth: or pills to purge melancholy, the most famous song book of its day, may be traced back to a single volume of 'witty ballads, jovial songs, and merry catches' by an earlier generation of lyricists, published without music in under the title an antidote against melancholy: made up in pills. for the third edition, still without music but livened up by more recent songs, the title was changed to wit and mirth: an antidote against melancholy ( ), and in , still in one volume, it was published by henry playford with music. over the course of the next two decades it was expanded and republished again and again, eventually to become this six-volume 'standard edition' of contemporary popular comic and bawdy ballads, with an increasing emphasis on the work of the stammering dramatist and lyricist thomas d'urfey, whose songs were sung by all the town. among the composers were dr. john blow and henry purcell.] [from wikipedia: thomas d'urfey ( - ) was an english dramatist and songwriter. he wrote the plays the fond husband in , madame fickle in and the virtuous wife in . he also wrote the song collection wit and mirth, or pills to purge melancholy between and .] the book is not always gramatically correct, e.g.: "there was three travellers". odd spellings, and odd grammatical constructions, if they make sense, have been preserved. there is some dialect, which has also been preserved. (e.g.: "wo'as me poor lass! what mun i do?") apostrophes of ownership are conspicuous by their absence. spelling is sometimes quaint...'spight' for 'spite', 'dye' for 'die', 'chuse' for choose', 'seaze' for 'seize', 'quere' for 'queer', etc. where a spelling makes sense, and is merely discretional and not obviously incorrect, it has been retained. 'their' instead of 'there' has appeared twice (page and page ), retained, and 'pharoah' (page ), retained: it _is_ a drinking song. pp. - : 'monsieur grabeau' (twice) on page becomes monsieur grabeu (four times) on page . [note (from wikipedia): louis grabu, grabut, grabue, or grebus (fl. - , died after ) was a catalan-born, french-trained composer and violinist who was mainly active in england. while he was probably born in catalonia--he was later referred to as 'lodovicus grabeu of shalon in catalunnia' --details of his early life are lacking. sometime in his youth he moved to paris, where he was most likely trained by lully. at the time of the restoration he went to england, where french music, especially opera, was much in vogue. charles ii of england appointed him as a composer for his own private music in , and with the death of nicholas lanier in he became the second person to hold the title master of the king's musick. he adapted robert cambert's opera ariadne for a london performance in , and wrote music for john dryden's albion and albanius in . in he left england, the only land where he had achieved any kind of fame, and completely disappeared from historical record.] consonants were not necessarily doubled where we would now expect. standardised modern spelling is a fairly recent (mid th century) imposition, probably coinciding with the various public education acts. some spellings may be left over from middle english, e.g. 'sily' from 'sely', dialect 'seely', from oe 'sælig' (luck, happiness); thus 'sily' (p. ) may have meant 'lucky' or 'happy' instead of the modern 'silly'. or 'sily' may be our modern 'silly', with an undoubled middle consonant. damaged or missing punctuation has been repaired and sundry indents have been adjusted for consistency. errata page : 'vvidow' corrected to 'widow'. (possibly a printer's error....). ... "which way to take the widow brown," page : 'do' corrected to 'to': "they'll hourly study to deceive," page : 'vvho' corrected to 'who': "who dare not their grief declare," (... or maybe the printer was short of 'w's). sundry other instances of 'vv' have been corrected to 'w'. page : 'ny' corrected to 'my': "my nose takes the burthen...." page : 'mortal's' corrected to 'mortals': "mortals learn your lives to measure," page : 'maguanime' corrected to 'magnanime': "sat notus pro magnanime" page : missing 'i' added to last line to complete rhyme: "and priest and victim i." page : 'i'ye' corrected to "i've": "i've lost a harry groat," [note: harry was king henry; a groat was an old english silver coin, first coined by henry iii in , and by edward iii in . originally worth one penny, it later rose to the value of fourpence. the groat was revived between and , and withdrawn from circulation in (from collins new age encyclopedia, )]. copyright (c) and earlier by janie ian. janis ian provided tracks from several different cds. these are not every track from the cds, but janis' own selections. they are presented in several different digital formats. we hope to add lyrics in the future. these are all copyrighted files, but are available for free redistribution and use, worldwide, on any playback device. share and enjoy them! thanks to joan cole for preparing different versions of these files. find joan at www.autumnalwind.com and joancole@mindspring.com concert*** digitization by songmuh jong. in these files are biset's variations chromatiques de concert. they are available as mp (for listening), as pdf (the scores), and as midi (for playback using midi software). thanks to songmuh jong for creating these files from printed scores. [transcriber's note: printer errors as well as inconsistencies in punctuation and diacriticals have been corrected without note. inconsistencies in song titles as listed in the contents and the alphabetical index have been left as they appear in the original.] songs of the west folk songs of devon & cornwall collected from the mouths of the people by s. baring-gould, m.a. h. fleetwood sheppard, m.a. and f.w. bussell, mus. doc. d.d. under the musical editorship of cecil j. sharp principal of the hampstead conservatoire fifth edition in one volume methuen & co. ltd. essex street w.c. london _originally issued in four parts in _ _first published in one volume in _ _new and revised edition october _ _reprinted april _ to the memory of the late d. radford, esq., j.p., of mount tavy, at whose hospitable table the making of this collection was first planned also to that of the rev. h. fleetwood sheppard, m.a., my fellow worker in this field for twelve years contents preface--introduction. . by chance it was. . the hunting of arscott of tetcott. . upon a sunday morning. . the trees they are so high. . parson hogg. . cold blows the wind. . the sprig of thyme. . roving jack the journeyman. . brixham town. . green broom. . as johnny walked out. . the miller and his sons. . ormond the brave. . john barleycorn. . sweet nightingale. . widdecombe fair. . ye maidens pretty. . the silly old man. . the months of the year. . the chimney sweep. . the saucy sailor. . blue muslin. . the death of parker. . the helston furry dance. . blow away ye morning breezes. . the hearty good fellow. . the bonny bunch of roses. . the last of the singers. . the tythe pig. . old wichet. . jan's courtship. . the drowned lover. . childe the hunter. . the cottage well thatch'd with straw. . cicely sweet. . a sweet pretty maiden sat under a tree. . the white cockade. . the sailor's farewell. . a maiden sat a weeping. . the blue kerchief. . come to my window. . tommy a lynn. . the green bushes. . the broken token. . the mole catcher. . the keenly lode. . may-day carol. . the lover's tasks. . lullabye. . the gipsy countess. _in two parts._ . the grey mare. . the wreck off scilly. . henry martyn. . plymouth sound. . the fox. . furze bloom. . the oxen ploughing. . flora, the lily of the west. _in f_ [transcriber's note: d minor.] " " " " " " _in g_ . fair lady pity me. . the painful plough. . at the setting of the sun. . all jolly fellows that follow the plough. . the golden vanity. . the bold dragoon. . trinity sunday. . the blue flame. . strawberry fair. . the country farmer's son. . the hostess' daughter. . the jolly goss-hawk. . the song of the moor. . on a may morning so early. . the spotted cow. . three jovial welshmen. . well met, well met, my own true love. . poor old horse. . the dilly song. . a country dance. . constant johnny. . the duke's hunt. . the bell-ringing. . a nutting we will go. . down by a river-side. . the barley-rakings. . a ship came sailing over the sea. . the rambling sailor. . willie combe. . midsummer carol. . the blackbird. . the green bed. . the loyal lover. . the streams of nantsian. . three drunken maidens. . tobacco is an indian weed. . fair susan slumbered. . the false bride. . barley straw. . death and the lady. . both sexes give ear to my fancy. . i rode my little horse. . among the new-mown hay. . i'll build myself a gallant ship. . colly, my cow. . within a garden. . the bonny bird. . the lady and apprentice. . paul jones. . the merry haymakers. . in bibberly town. . the marigold. . arthur le bride. . the keeper. . the queen of hearts. . the owl. . my mother did so before me. . a week's work well done. . the old man can't keep his wife at home. . sweet, farewell! . old adam, the poacher. . evening prayer. notes on the songs. alphabetical index of songs no. page a maiden sat a weeping among the new mown hay all jolly fellows that follow the plough a nutting we will go arthur le bride a ship came sailing as johnny walked out a sweet pretty maiden at the setting of the sun a week's work well done barley raking, the barley straw, the bell ringing, the bibberly town, in blackbird, the blow away ye morning breezes blue flame, the blue kerchief blue muslin bold dragoon, the bonny bird, the bonny bunch of roses, the both sexes give ear to my fancy brixham town broken token, the by chance it was childe the hunter chimney sweep, the cicely sweet cold blows the wind colly, my cow come to my window constant johnny cottage well thatched with straw, the country dance, a country farmer's son, the death and the lady death of parker dilly song, the down by a river side drowned lover, the drunken maidens duke's hunt, the evening prayer, the fair lady pity me fair susan slumbered false bride, the flora, the lily of the west , fox, the furze bloom gipsy countess, the golden vanity, the green bed, the green broom green bushes, the grey mare, the hearty good fellow, the helston furry dance, the henry martyn hostess' daughter, the hunting of arscott, the i'll build myself a gallant ship in bibberly town i rode my little horse jan's courtship john barleycorn jolly fellows that follow the plough jolly goss-hawk, the keenly lode, the keeper, the lady and apprentice, the last of the singers, the lover's tasks, the loyal lover, the lullaby maiden sat a-weeping, a marigold, the may day carol merry haymakers, the midsummer carol, a miller and his sons, the mole catcher, the months of the year, the my mother did so before me old adam the poacher old man can't keep his wife at home, the old wichet on a may morning ormond the brave owl, the oxen ploughing, the painful plough, the parson hogg paul jones plymouth sound poor old horse queen of hearts, the rambling sailor, the roving jack sailor's farewell, the saucy sailor, the silly old man, the simple ploughboy, the song of the moor, the spotted cow, the sprig of thyme, the strawberry fair streams of nantsian, the sweet farewell sweet nightingale three drunken maidens, the three jovial welshmen tobacco tommy a lynn trees they are so high, the trinity sunday tythe pig, the upon a sunday morning well met! well met! white cockade, the widdecombe fair willy combe within a garden wreck off scilly, the week's work well done, a ye maidens pretty preface in this edition of "songs of the west," some considerable changes have been made. when the first edition was issued, we had to catch the public taste, and to humour it. accordingly the choruses were arranged in four parts, and some of the songs were set as duets and quartettes. but now that real interest in folk airs has been awakened, we have discarded this feature. moreover, a good many accompanists complained that the arrangements were too elaborate, except for very skilled pianoforte players. we have now simplified the settings. then, we have omitted twenty-two songs, and have supplied their places with others, either because the others are intrinsically better, or that they have earlier and more characteristic melodies, or again because the songs though sung by the people, did not seem to us to have been productions of the folk-muse. again, when our first edition was published, modal melodies were not appreciated, and we had regretfully to put many aside and introduce more of the airs of a modern character. public taste is a little healthier now, and musicians have multiplied who can value these early melodies. consequently we have not felt the same reserve now that we did in . introduction dorothy osborne, in a letter to sir william temple, in , thus describes her daily home life. "the heat of the day is spent in reading or working, and about six or seven o'clock i walk out into a common that lies hard by the house, where a great many young wenches keep sheep or cows, and sit in the shade singing ballads. i go to them and compare their voices and beauties to some ancient shepherdesses that i have read of, and find a vast difference there; but trust me these are as innocent as those could be. i talk to them, and find they want nothing to make them the happiest people in the world but the knowledge that they are so. most commonly, when we are in the midst of our discourse, one looks about her, and spies her cows going into the corn, and then away they all run as if they had wings to their heels." ("letters of dorothy osborne," london, , p. .) before that sir thomas overbury, in his "character of a milkmaid," had written: "she dares go alone and unfold her sheep in the night, and fears no manner of ill, because she means none: yet, to say truth, she is never alone, she is still accompanied with old songs, honest thoughts, and prayers, but short ones." during the reign of queen mary, the princess elizabeth was kept under close guard and restraint, but was suffered to walk in the palace grounds. "in this situation," says holinshed, "no marvel if she, hearing upon a time, out of her garden at woodstock, a certain milkmaid singing pleasantlie, wished herself to be a milkmaid as she was; saying that her case was better, and life merrier." so viola, in fletcher's play, "the coxcombe," : "would to god, my father had lived like one of these, and bred me up to milk, and do as they do! methinks 'tis a life that i would chuse, if i were now to tell my time again, above a prince's." the milkmaid, and the girls guarding sheep and cows are things of the past, and with them have largely departed their old ballads and songs. tusser, in his "points on huswifry," in , recommends the country housewife to select her maids from those who sing at their work as being usually the most painstaking and the best. "such servants are oftenest painsfull and good, that sing at their labours, like birds in a wood." nowadays, domestic servants sing nothing but hymns, and the use of ballads and folksongs has died out among farm girls, and these are to be recovered only where there are village industries as basket weaving, glove sewing, and the like. but the old men sing their ancient ditties, or did so till within the last fifty years. now they are no longer called on for them, but they remember them, and with a little persuasion can be induced to render them up. when i was a boy, i was wont to ride over and about dartmoor, and to put up at little village taverns. there i was sure in the evening to hear one or two men sing, and should it be a pay day, sing hour after hour, one song following another with little intermission. there was an institution at mines and quarries called a _fetching_. it occurred every fortnight. the men left work early, and went to the changing room; stone jars of ale were brought thither from the nearest public house. each man filled his mug, and each in turn, before emptying it, was required to sing. on such occasions many a fine old ballad was to be picked up. there was also the farm-supper after harvest, at which the workmen sang. now the suppers have been discontinued. ringer's feasts, happily, still remain, and at them a good old ditty may be heard. but most of the old singers with their traditional ballads set to ancient modal melodies have passed away. in "poems, etc.," by henry incledon johns, published by subscription, devonport, , is the following interesting passage. he is describing a night spent in an inn on the borders of dartmoor; he met farmers and labourers. "one of the party i observed never took any share in the conversation, but appeared to have been invited there for the sole purpose of singing to them. he sang a great number of ballads, making up in loudness for what he lacked in melody. i thought it betrayed rather a want of courtesy that his auditors continued to talk while he sang, and no less remarkable, that they never expressed either applause or disapprobation of his strains. now and then, one or two of them would join in a line of chorus, but it seemed to be done in a sort of parenthesis, and the thread of the conversation was immediately resumed as vehemently as ever.... i gleaned the following scraps of the border minstrelsy of dartmoor: 'there was an old man as blind as blind could be, he swore he saw the fox go up a great tree.' 'there was one among them all that's slender, fair and tall, with a black and rolling eye, and a skin of lily dye.' 'a bonny lass i courted full many a long day, and dearly i loved to be in her sweet company.' (the lover then describes the progress of his suit, which proves unsuccessful, and concludes thus:--) 'go, dig me a pit, that is long, large, and deep, and i'll lay myself down, and take a long sleep. and that's the way to forget her.' "the air to the latter was rather plaintive, and from the lips of some siren might have been entitled to an _encore_, but the voice which now gave it utterance only added another to many previous proofs that the english are not a musical people. the minstrel was in appearance one of the most athletic men i have ever seen, and although seventy-five years of age, would still, as i subsequently learnt, perform a day's work better than most of the young men of the parish. he was a pauper, but in great respect among the neighbouring rustics for his vocal powers. his auditory were moor-farmers with countenances as rugged and weather-beaten as the rocks among which they live." it is not a little interesting to know that some seventy years after this recorded evening we were able to recover two of the songs which mr. johns gives somewhat inaccurately; and both are included in this collection. the first is "the three jovial welshmen," no. ; and the last is "the false bride," no. . one of my old singers, james olver, was the son of very strict wesleyans. when he was a boy, he was allowed to hear no music save psalm and hymn tunes. but he was wont to creep out of his window at night, and start away to the tavern where the miners congregated, and listen to and heap up in his memory the songs he there heard. as these were forbidden fruit they were all the more dearly prized and surely remembered, and when he was a white-haired old man, he poured them out to us. some forty or fifty years ago, it was customary when the corn was cut, for the young men of a parish to agree together, and without telling the farmer of their intention, to invade his harvest field, work all night and stack his corn, whilst he slept. it was allowed to leak out who had done him this favour, and in return, he invited them with their lasses to sup and dance and make merry in a lighted barn. then famous old songs were sung. but all that good feeling is at an end, and in its place exists a rankling hostility between the tiller of the soil and his employer. blame assuredly attaches to the farmer for this condition of affairs, in that he has done away with the farmhouse festivities in which workmen and employer took part. one evening in , i was dining with the late mr. daniel radford, of mount tavy, when the conversation turned to old devonshire songs. some of those present knew "widdecombe fair," others remembered "arscott of tetcott"; and all had heard many and various songs sung at hunt-suppers, at harvest and sheep-shearing feasts. my host turned to me and said: "it is a sad thing that our folk-music should perish. i wish you would set to work and collect it--gather up the fragments that remain before all is lost!" i undertook the task. i found that it was of little use going to most farmers and yeoman. they sang the compositions of hooke, hudson, and dibden. but i learned that there were two notable old singing men at south brent, and i was aware that there was one moorland singing farmer at belstone, i was informed of this by j.d. prickman, esq., of okehampton. this man, harry westaway, knew many old songs. moreover, in my own neighbourhood was a totally illiterate hedger, in fact, he could neither read nor write. he enjoyed no little local celebrity as a song-man. his name was james parsons, aged seventy-four, and a son of a still more famous singer called "the singing-machine," and grandson of another of the same fame. in fact, the profession of song-man was hereditary in the family. at every country entertainment, in olden times, at the public-house almost nightly, for more than a century, one of these men of the parsons' family had not failed to attend, to sing as required for the entertainment of the company. the _repertoire_ of the grandfather had descended to old james. for how many generations before him the profession had been followed i could not learn. james parsons' ballad tunes were of an early and archaic character. in fact, with few exceptions his melodies were in the gregorian modes. at one time parsons and a man named voysey were working on the fringe of dartmoor, and met in the evening at the moorland tavern. parsons boasted of the number of songs he knew, and voysey promised to give him a glass of ale for every fresh one he sang. parsons started with "the outlandish knight," one song streamed forth after another, one glass after another was emptied, and these men sat up the whole night, till the sun rose, and the song-man's store was not then exhausted, but voysey's pocket was. i could hardly credit this tale when told me, so i questioned voysey, who had worked for my father and was working for me. he laughed and confirmed the tale. "i ought to remember it," he said, "for he cleared me clean out." many a pleasant evening have i spent with old parsons, he in the settle, sitting over the hall fire, i taking down the words of his ballads, mr. sheppard or mr. bussell noting down his melodies. but one day i heard that an accident had befallen parsons. in cutting "spears," _i.e._, pegs for thatching, on his knee he had cut into the joint; and the village doctor told me he feared parsons at his age would never get over it. i sent for mr. bussell, and said to him: "we shall lose our old singer, before we have quite drained him. come with me, and we will visit his cottage, and see what more we can get from him." we went, and very pleased he was to sing to us from his bed. "old wichet," no. , was one of the songs we then acquired from him. happily, the sturdy constitution of the man caused his recovery, and he lived on for three years after this accident. one day in november, i got a letter from the vicar of south brent, in which he informed me that robert hard, a crippled stone-breaker there, and one of my song-men, was growing very feeble. without delay i took the train, and arrived at south brent vicarage, just as the party had finished breakfast. "now," said i to the vicar, "lend me your drawing room and the piano, and send for old hard." the stone breaker arrived, and i spent almost the whole day, that is, till the dusk of evening fell, taking down his songs and melodies. from him then, i had "the cuckoo," that i have published in my "garland of country songs." a month later, poor old hard was found dead in a snowdrift by the roadside. i had enlisted the services of such excellent musicians as the late rev. h. fleetwood sheppard, of thurnscoe, yorkshire, and mr., now the rev. doctor bussell, mus. doc., and vice-principal of brazennose [transcriber's note: brasenose] college, oxford, and we worked at collecting, at south brent, where besides robert hard, was john helmore, a miller, who died in the ivy bridge workhouse in ; also at belstone, and we worked through the length and breadth of dartmoor. james coaker,[ ] a blind man of , in the heart of the moor, very infirm, and able to leave his bed for a few hours of the day only, was unable to sing, but could recite the words of ballads; but mr. j. webb, captain of a mine hard by, knew his tunes, and could very sweetly pipe them. on blackdown, mary tavy, lived a mason, samuel fone, he died in . he had an almost inexhaustible supply. further songs were yielded by a singing blacksmith, john woodrich, of woolacott moor, thrushleton, commonly known as "ginger jack"; also by roger luxton, of halwell, by james olver, tanner, launceston, a native of s. kewe, cornwall; by john masters, of bradstone, aged ; by william rice and john rickards, both of lamerton; by william friend, labourer, lydford; edmund fry, thatcher, a native of lezant, cornwall; roger hannaford, widdecombe; will and roger huggins, lydford; w. bickle, bridestowe; matthew baker, a poor cripple, lew down; john dingle, coryton; j. peake, tanner, liskeard; and mr. s. gilbert, the aged innkeeper of the "falcon," mawgan, in pyder. more were obtained from old singers at two bridges and post bridge on dartmoor, from others at chagford, at holne, and at south brent. from others again at menheniot, cornwall, and at fowey. some songs taken down from moor men on dartmoor, in or about , were sent me by w. crossing, esq., who knows dartmoor better than any man living; others by t.s. cayzer, esq., taken down in . miss bidder, of stoke flemming, most kindly searched her neighbourhood for old women who knew ancient songs, and sent me what she obtained. we had several rare old melodies from sally satterley,[ ] now dead, of huccaby bridge, dartmoor. she had acquired them from her father, a crippled fiddler. [footnote : i have given a memoir of this old man in my "dartmoor idylls." (methuen & co., ).] [footnote : i have told the romantic story of the building of her house in one day, "jolly lane cott" in my "dartmoor idylls." the old house has recently been pulled down and replaced by an ugly modern cottage.] of the vast quantities of tunes that we have collected, perhaps a third are very good, a third are good, and the remainder indifferent. the singers are almost invariably illiterate and aged, and when they die the tradition will be lost, for the present generation will have nothing to do with these songs, especially such as are modal, and supplant them with the vulgarest music hall compositions. the melodies are far more precious than the words, and we have been more concerned to rescue these than the words, which are often common-place, and may frequently be found on broadside ballad sheets. the words are less frequently of home growth than the airs, and over and over again we came upon ballads already in print, but not to the tunes to which they are sung elsewhere. there are, in fact, only a few, such as "cupid's garden," "bold general wolf," "lord thomas and the fair eleanor," "barbara allen," "outward bound," "the mermaid," that retain the melodies to which sung in other parts of england. but, "tobacco is an indian weed," "joans' ale is new," "the fox," and many others have tunes to which sung in devon and cornwall that are quite different and local. a remarkable instance is that of "sweet nightingale." this appeared in with music by dr. arne. the words travelled down to cornwall, not so arne's tune, and they were there set to an entirely independent melody. then again, when a tune did travel west, and was heard by some of the peasant singers, if it did not commend itself to their taste, they altered it, perhaps quite unconsciously into a form more satisfactory to their minds. i have given a very curious example of this, "upon a sunday morning." our folk music is a veritable moraine of rolled and ground fragments from musical strata far away. it contains melodies of all centuries from the days of the minstrels down to the present time, all thrown together in one heap. it must be borne well in mind that to the rustic singer, melody is everything. it was so in the days before elizabeth. the people then did not want harmony; to them harmony is quite a modern invention and need. at the present day, we are so accustomed to choral and concerted music that we have come to care little for formal melody, and wagner has taught us to be content with musical phrases alone. melody is a musical idea worked out in successive notes of our scale. modern music is constructed in but two of the seven diatonic modes, in which melodies may be cast, the major and the minor; with the result that the modern ear entertains no appreciation of an air that is not in the ionian scale, the "tonus lascivus" of the ancients. the jongleur or minstrel had but the rudest of instruments; the peasant singer had none at all. what interest he can create, what effect he can produce, must be through melody alone. now, i venture to assert that the folk music of the english peasantry has been surpassingly rich in melodiousness, and that no tune has had a chance of living and being transmitted from generation to generation, unless it have a distinct individuality in it, in a word, contains a melodious idea. moreover, not having been framed only in the common major or minor key, it is abundantly varied. it has been a well-spring from which hitherto we have not drawn. in former times, that strongly defined dividing line which separates the cultured from the uncultured did not exist. the music of the peasant was also the music of the court; the ballad was the delight of the cottager and of the noble lady in her bower. but the separation began, in music, in the elizabethan days; in ballads, in those of james i., when nearly every old ballad was re-written to fresh metres, unsingable to the traditional airs. the skilled musician scorned folk melodies, and revelled in counter-point. it is a mistake to suppose that all mediæval music was in the gregorian modes other than our major and minor. even in the th century, the modern major mode was used, so that some of our traditional airs, which seem to be modern may really be old. m. tiersot notes that among the melodies extant of three trouvères of the thirteenth century, a certain number are modern in character. of twenty-two airs by the chatelain de coucy, three are frankly in the major; five others in the th or the th tone, give the impression of the major. of nine melodies by the king of navarre, four are in the major, a fifth in the th tone, is of the same nature as those of de coucy. of thirty-four _chansons_ by adam de la hall, twenty-one are in the major. the folk airs that we give in our collection may not please at first, certainly will not please all; but when once a relish for them has been acquired, then hearers will turn with weariness from the ordinary concert hall feebleness, as we turn from the twaddle of a vacuous female. we have found it necessary to take down all the variants of the same air that we have come across. m. bourgault ducoudray, in his introduction to "mélodies populaires de basse bretagne," paris, , says: "when a song has been transmitted from mouth to mouth, without having been fixed by notation, it is exposed to alterations. one is sometimes obliged to collect as many as twenty variants of the same air, before finding one that is good. this is the greatest difficulty to the seeker; it is as hard to lay the hand on the veritable typal form of a melody as it is to meet with an intact specimen among the shells that have been rolled on the sea shore." when a party of singers is assembled, or when one man sings a succession of ballads, the memory becomes troubled; the first few melodies are given correctly, but after that, the airs become deflected and influenced by the airs last sung. at two bridges one old singer, g. kerswell, after giving us "the bell-ringers," sang us half-a-dozen ballads but the melody of the bells went through them all, and vitiated them all so as to render them worthless. on another occasion, we took down four or five airs all beginning alike, because one singer had impressed this beginning on the minds of the others. at another time, when this impression was worn off, they would sing correctly, and then the beginnings would be different. experience taught us never to take down too much at one sitting. in a very few years all this heritage of traditional folk music will be gone; and this is the supreme moment at which such a collection can be made. already, nearly every one of my old singers from whom these melodies were gathered, is dead. they are passing away everywhere. few counties of england have been worked. sussex has been well explored by the late rev. john broadwood, and then by miss lucy broadwood[ ]; yorkshire, by mr. frank kidson; northumberland, by dr. collingwood bruce and mr. john stokoe. mr. cecil sharp is now engaged on somersetshire, and dr. vaughan williams on essex. who will undertake lincolnshire, dorset, hampshire, and other counties? the purely agricultural districts are most auriferous. in manufacturing counties modern music has driven out the traditional folk melodies. [footnote : the rev. j. broadwood, of lyne, sussex, printed his collection "for private circulation only," in . it was reprinted later, with additions, by miss l. broadwood, under the title of "sussex songs." (leonard & co., oxford street.)] with regard to the approximate dates of the airs we give, all that we can say is that such as are in the ancient modes are not later than the reign of james i. how much more ancient they may be, it is impossible to determine. the melodies of the handel and arne, and then those of the hooke and dibden periods can be at once detected. some few of the melodies we have taken down were certainly originally in one or other of the ancient modes, but in process of time have been subjected to alteration, to accommodate them to the modern ear. although some seventy per cent. of the airs noted from the very old singers are modal, we have not given too many of these, as the popular taste is not sufficiently educated to relish them. but such as can not perceive the beauty of the tunes that go, for instance, to "the trees they are so high," in the rarely used phrygian mode, "flora, the flower of the west," in f, "henry martyn," "on a may morning so early," etc., are indeed to be pitied. we have not been able to give those lengthy ballads, such as, "the outlandish knight," "the brown girl," "by the banks of green willow," "the baffled knight," "william and the shepherd's daughter," "captain ward," "the golden glove," "the maid and the box," "the death of queen jane," etc., which are too long to be sung and listened to with patience now-a-days. in some instances we have set other words to a ballad tune, as xxxvi. one of my old singers said to me concerning this ballad, "when my little sister, now dead, these twenty years, was a child, and went up from exeter to london with me in a carrier's van, lor bless'y, afore railways was invented, i mind that she sang this here ballet in the waggon all the way up. we was three days about it. she was then about six years old." the ballet, by the way, is not particularly choice and suitable for a child or a grown-up girl to sing, according to our ideas. in giving these songs to the public, we have been scrupulous to publish the airs precisely as noted down, choosing among the variants those which commended themselves to us as the soundest. but we have not been so careful with regard to the _words_. these are sometimes in a fragmentary condition, or are coarse, contain _double entendres_, or else are mere doggerel. accordingly, we have re-written the songs wherever it was not possible to present them in their original form. this was done by the scotch. many an old ballad is gross, and many a broadside is common-place. songs that were thought witty in the caroline and early georgian epochs, are no longer sufferable; and broadside ballads are in many cases vulgarised versions of earlier ballads that have been lost in their original forms. what a change has taken place in public feeling with regard to decency may be judged by the way in which addison speaks of d'urfey in "the guardian," , no. . "a _judicious_ author, some years since, published a collection of sonnets, which he very successfully called "laugh and be fat; or, pills to purge melancholy." i can not sufficiently admire the facetious title of these volumes, and must censure the world of ingratitude, while they are so negligent in rewarding the jocose labours of my friend, mr. d'urfey, who was so large a contributor to this treatise, and to whose numerous productions so many rural squires in the remotest parts of the island are obliged for the dignity and state which corpulency gives them." and again, in no. , "i must heartily recommend to all young ladies, my disciples, the case of my old friend, who has often made their grand-mothers merry, and whose sonnets have perhaps lulled to sleep many a present toast, when she lay in her cradle." why--d'urfey's pills must now-a-days be kept under lock and key. the fun so commended by the pious and grave addison is filth of the most revolting description. and yet the grand-mothers of the ladies of his day, according to him, were wont to sing them over the cradles of their grand-children! so when a "collection of old ballads" was published - , the editor, after giving a series of historical and serious pieces, in a later volume apologises to the ladies for their gravity, and for their special delectation furnishes an appendix of songs that are simply dirty. a good many of the ditties in favour with our rural song-men, are, it must be admitted, of the d'urfey type; and what is more some of the very worst are sung to the daintiest early melodies. two courses lay open to us. one that adopted dr. barrett and mr. kidson to print the words exactly as given on the broadsides, with asterisks for the undesirable stanzas. but this would simply have killed the songs. no one would care to warble what was fragmentary. on the other hand, there is that adopted by the scotch and irish collectors, which consists in re-writing or modifying where objectionable or common-place. this has been the course we have pursued. it seemed a pity to consign the lovely old melodies to the antiquary's library, by publishing them with words which were fatal to the success of the songs in the drawing room or the concert hall. we resolved where the old words were good, or tolerable, to retain them. where bad, to re-write, adhering as closely as possible to the original. where the songs were mere broadside ballads, we have had no scruple in doing this, for we give reference to the press-mark in the british museum, where the original text may be found. but the broadside itself is often a debased form of a fine early ballad. the broadside publishers were wont to pay a shilling to any ballad mongers who could furnish them with a new ditty. these men were destitute of the poetic faculty and illiterate, and they contented themselves with taking old ballads and recomposing them, so as to give to them a semblance of novelty, sufficient to qualify their authors to claim the usual fee. here are some lines by one of the fraternity: "i'm billy nuts wot always cuts a dash through all the town, sir, with lit'rary men, my clever pen in grammar gains renown, sir, in song, and catch, and ditty. and then to each, with dying speech i do excite their pity. so all agree to welcome me, with drum and fife and whiols, (_sic_ for viols) a cause my name stands fast in fame, the bard of seven dials." (b.m., , , k. ) our object was not to furnish a volume for consultation by the musical antiquary alone, but to resuscitate, and to popularise the traditional music of the english people. as, however, to the antiquary everything is important, exactly as obtained, uncleansed from rust and unpolished, i have deposited a copy of the songs and ballads with their music exactly as taken down, for reference, in the municipal free library, plymouth. the rev. h.f. sheppard, who worked with me for twelve years in rescuing these old songs, and in bringing them before the public, is now no more. a new edition has been called for, and in this some exclusions and some additions have been made. we do not think that the pieces we have removed are not good, but that we are able to supply their places with others that are better. mr. sheppard entertained a very strong objection to arranging any song he had not himself "pricked down" from the lips of the singers, and as mr. bussell had noted down hundreds as well, these, for the most part, had to be laid on one side. mr. sheppard was, doubtless, right in his assertion, that unless he had himself heard the song sung, he could not catch its special character, and so render it justly. acting on the advice of mr. cecil sharp, of the conservatoire, hampstead, who has kindly undertaken the musical editorship of this edition, i have introduced several interesting ballads and songs that, for the reason above given, were excluded from the first. mr. f. kidson has kindly afforded us information relative to such songs as he has come across in yorkshire. in conclusion i give a few particulars relative to the rev. h.f. sheppard, my fellow-worker, and mr. d. radford, the instigator of the collection, both of whom have passed away. henry fleetwood sheppard was a graduate of trinity hall, cambridge, and had been appointed travelling batchelor to the university. through the whole of his clerical career he was closely associated with sacred music, especially with plain-song, of which he was an enthusiastic admirer. as precentor of the doncaster choral union from to , he became the pioneer of improved church music in that part of yorkshire. in the year he was presented to the rectory of thurnscoe, which at that time was an agricultural village numbering about inhabitants, where he remained until , when he resigned his living on account of his advancing years which precluded his coping satisfactorily with the population swelling to , souls, owing to the opening of coal mines in the parish. in , as already intimated, he was associated along with myself in the collection of devon and cornish folk songs. when he resigned the incumbency of thurnscoe, he retired to oxford, where, in his declining years, he might, at his leisure, dip into those store houses of classical and musical literature in which his soul delighted. three days before christmas, , a slight stroke of paralysis gave warning of possibly serious mischief. a sudden and fatal collapse ensued on s. john's day, without further warning. he was laid to rest at oxford on new year's eve. an inscription in the vestry wall at thurnscoe, was cut by one who was in mr. sheppard's choir for nearly forty years before his death. "pray for the peace of henry fleetwood sheppard, rector of this parish church, - , who went to rest, december th, , aged years." mr. daniel radford, of mount tavy, was an enthusiastic lover of all that pertained to his county. he knew that a number of traditional songs and ballads still floated about, and he saw clearly that unless these were at once collected, they would be lost irretrievably, and he pressed on me the advisability of making a collection, and of setting about it at once. i began to do so in , and continued at it, working hard for twelve years, assisted by mr. sheppard and mr. bussell. mr. radford was one for whom i entertained the deepest affection, inspired by his high character; and i knew that what he judged to be advisable should be undertaken in no perfunctory way. mr. radford died january rd, , at the age of seventy-two, and was buried in lydford churchyard. the beautiful rood-screen in the church has been erected by his sons to his memory. in the collection, the music initialed h.f.s. has the accompaniment arranged for the piano by mr. sheppard, that initialed c.j.s. by mr. c.j. sharp; that f.w.b. by dr. bussell. [illustration] no. by chance it was h.f.s. [music] by chance it was i met my love, it did me much surprise, down by a shady myrtle grove, just as the sun did rise. the birds they sang right gloriously, and pleasant was the air; and there was none, save she and i, among the flowers fair. in dewy grass and green we walk'd, she timid was and coy; "how can'st thou choose but pity me, my pretty pearl, my joy? how comes it that thou stroll'st this way? sweet maiden, tell me true, before bright phoebus' glittering ray has supped the morning dew?" "i go to tend the flocks i love the ewes and tender lambs, that pasture by the myrtle grove, that gambol by their dams; there i enjoy a pure content at dawning of the day," then, hand in hand, we lovers went to see the flock at play. and as we wended down the road, i said to her, "sweet maid, three years i in my place abode and three more must be stayed. the three that i am bound so fast, o fairest wait for me. and when the weary years are past then married we will be." "three years are long, three times too long, too lengthy the delay." o then i answered in my song, "hope wastes them quick away. where love is fervent, fain and fast, and knoweth not decay. there nimbly fleet the seasons past accounted as one day." no. the hunting of arscott of tetcott c.j.s. [music] in the month of november, in the year fifty-two, three jolly fox-hunters, all sons of the blue, they rode from pencarrow, not fearing a wet coat, to take their diversion with arscott of tetcott. sing fol-de-rol, lol-de-rol, la-de, heigh-ho! sing fol-de-rol, lol-de-rol, la-de, heigh-ho! the day-light was dawning, right radiant the morn, when arscott of tetcott he winded his horn; he blew such a flourish, so loud in the hall, the rafters re-sounded, and danced to the call. sing fol-de-rol, &c. in the kitchen the servants, in kennel the hounds, in the stable the horses were roused by the sounds, on black-bird in saddle sat arscott, "to day i will show you good sport, lads, hark! follow, away!" sing fol-de-rol, &c. they tried in the coppice, from becket to thorn, there were ringwood and rally, and princess and scorn; then out bounded reynard, away they all went, with the wind in their tails, on a beautiful scent. sing fol-de-rol, &c. "hark, vulcan!" said arscott, "the best of good hounds! heigh venus!" he shouted, "how nimbly she bounds! and nothing re-echoes so sweet in the valley, as the music of rattler, of fill-pot, and rally." sing fol-de-rol, &c. they hunted o'er fallow, o'er field and on moor, and never a hound, man or horse would give o'er. sly reynard kept distance for many a mile, and no one dismounted for gate or for stile. sing fol-de-rol, &c. "how far do you make it?" said simon, the son, "the day that's declining will shortly be done." "we'll follow till doom's day," quoth arscott. before they hear the atlantic with menacing roar. sing fol-de-rol, &c. thro' whitstone and poundstock, st. gennys they run, as a fireball, red, in the sea set the sun. then out on penkenner--a leap, and they go, full five hundred feet to the ocean be-low. sing fol-de-rol, &c. when the full moon is shining as clear as the day, john arscott still hunteth the country, they say; you may see him on black-bird, and hear, in full cry the pack from pencarrow to dazard go by. sing fol-de-rol, &c. when the tempest is howling, his horn you may hear, and the bay of his hounds in their headlong career; for arscott of tetcott loves hunting so well, that he breaks for the pastime from heaven--or hell. sing fol-de-rol, &c. no. upon a sunday morning h.f.s. [music] upon a sunday morning, when spring was in its prime, along the church-lane tripping, i heard the church-bells chime, and there encountered reuben, astride upon the stile, he blocked the way, so saucy, upon his lips a smile. upon a sunday morning, there came a rush of bells, the wind was music-laden, in changeful fall and swells; he would not let me over, he held, he made me stay, and promise i would meet him again at close of day. upon a sunday evening, the ringers in the tower, were practising their changes, they rang for full an hour; and reuben by me walking, would never let me go, until a yes i answered, he would not take a no. again a sunday morning, and reuben stands by me, not now in lane, but chancel, where all the folks may see. a golden ring he offers, as to his side i cling, o happy sunday morning, for us the church-bells ring. no. the trees they are so high c.j.s. [music] all the trees they are so high, the leaves they are so green, the day is past and gone, sweet-heart, that you and i have seen. it is cold winter's night, you and i must bide alone: whilst my pretty lad is young and is growing. in a garden as i walked, i heard them laugh and call; there were four and twenty playing there, they played with bat and ball. o the rain on the roof, here and i must make my moan: whilst my pretty lad is young and is growing. i listened in the garden, i looked o'er the wall; amidst five and twenty gallants there my love exceeded all. o the wind on the thatch, here and i alone must weep: whilst my pretty lad is young and is growing. o father, father dear, great wrong to me is done, that i should married be this day, before the set of sun. at the huffle of the gale, here i toss and cannot sleep: whilst my pretty lad is young and is growing. [ ] my daughter, daughter dear, if better be, more fit, i'll send him to the court awhile, to point his pretty wit. but the snow, snowflakes fall, o and i am chill as dead: whilst my pretty lad is young and is growing. [ ] to let the lovely ladies know they may not touch and taste, i'll bind a bunch of ribbons red about his little waist. but the raven hoarsely croaks, and i shiver in my bed; whilst my pretty lad is young and is growing. i married was, alas, a lady high to be, in court and stall and stately hall, and bower of tapestry, but the bell did only knell, and i shuddered as one cold: when i wed the pretty lad not done growing. at seventeen he wedded was, a father at eighteen, at nineteen his face was white as milk, and then his grave was green; and the daisies were outspread, and buttercups of gold, o'er my pretty lad so young now ceased growing. [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] no. parson hogg c.j.s. [music] mess parson hogg shall now maintain, the burden of my song, sir, a single life, perforce he led, of constitution strong, sir. sing, tally-ho! sing, tally-ho! sing, tally-ho! why zounds, sir, he mounts his mare, to hunt the hare, sing tally-ho! the hounds, sir. and every day he goes to mass, he first draws on the boot, sir, that should the beagles chance to pass, he might join in pursuit, sir! sing tally-ho! &c. that parson little loveth prayer, and pater, night and morn, sir, for bell and book, hath little care but dearly loves the horn, sir. sing tally-ho! &c. s. stephen's day, this holy man he went a pair to wed, sir, when as the service he began puss by the church-yard sped, sir. sing tally-ho! &c. he shut his book, come on, he said, i'll pray and bless no more, sir, he drew his surplice o'er his head and started for the door, sir sing tally-ho! &c. in pulpit parson hogg was strong, he preached without a book, sir, and to the point, and never long, and this the text he took, sir, "o tally-ho! o tally-ho! dearly beloved--zounds, sir i mount my mare to hunt the hare, singing tally-ho! the hounds, sir!" no. "cold blows the wind, sweet-heart" c.j.s. [music] "cold blows the wind of night, sweet-heart, cold are the drops of rain; the very first love that ever i had, in green-wood he was slain. "i'll do as much for my true-love as any fair maiden may; i'll sit and mourn upon his grave a twelvemonth and a day." a twelvemonth and a day being up, the ghost began to speak; "why sit you here by my grave-side from dusk till dawning break?" "o think upon the garden, love, where you and i did walk. the fairest flower that blossomed there is withered on its stalk." "what is it that you want of me, and will not let me sleep? your salten tears they trickle down my winding sheet to steep." "oh i will now redeem the pledge the pledge that once i gave; a kiss from off thy lily white lips is all of you i crave." "cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart, my breath is earthy strong. if you do touch my clay-cold lips, your time will not be long." then through the mould he heaved his head, and through the herbage green. there fell a frosted bramble leaf, it came their lips between. "now if you were not true in word, as now i know you be, i'd tear you as the withered leaves, are torn from off the tree. "and well for you that bramble-leaf betwixt our lips was flung. the living to the living hold, dead to the dead belong." no. the sprig of thyme c.j.s. [music] in my garden grew plenty of thyme, it would flourish by night and by day; o'er the wall came a lad, he took all that i had, and stole my thyme away. my garden with heartsease was bright, the pansy so pied and so gay; one slipped through the gate, and alas! cruel fate, my heartsease took away. my garden grew self-heal and balm, and speedwell that's blue for an hour, then blossoms again, o grievous my pain! i'm plundered of each flower. there grows in my garden the rue, and love-lies-a-bleeding droops there, the hyssop and myrrh, the teazle and burr, in place of blossoms fair. the willow with branches that weep, the thorn and the cypress tree, o why were the seeds of such dolorous weeds, thus scattered there by thee? no. roving jack c.j.s. [music] young jack he was a journey-man that roved from town to town, and when he'd done a job of work, he lightly sat him down. with his kit upon his shoulder, and a grafting knife in hand, he roved the country round about, a merry journey-man. and when he came to exeter, the maidens leaped for joy; said one and all, both short and tall, here comes a gallant boy. the lady dropt her needle, and the maid her frying-pan, each plainly told her mother, that she loved the journey-man. he had not been in exeter, the days were barely three, before the mayor, his sweet daughter. she loved him desperately; she bid him to her mother's house, she took him by the hand, said she, "my dearest mother, see i love the journey-man!" now out on thee, thou silly maid! such folly speak no more: how can'st thou love a roving man, thou ne'er hast seen before? "o mother sweet, i do entreat, i love him all i can; around the country glad i'll rove with this young journey-man. "he need no more to trudge afoot, he'll travel coach and pair; my wealth with me--or poverty with him, content i'll share." now fill the horn with barleycorn, and flowing fill the can: here let us toast the mayor's daughter and the roving journey-man. no. brixham town h.f.s. [music] all ye that love to hear music performed in air, pray listen, and give ear, to what i shall perpend. concerning music, who'd,-- if rightly understood-- not find 'twould do him good to hearken and attend. in brixham town so rare for singing sweet and fair, few can with us compare, we bear away the bell. extolled up and down by men of high renown, we go from town to town; and none can us excell. there's a man in brixham town of office, and in gown, strove to put singing down, which most of men adore. for house of god unmeet, the voice and organ sweet! when pious men do meet, to praise their god before. go question holy writ, and you will find in it, that seemly 'tis and fit, to praise and hymn the lord. on cymbal and on lute, on organ and on flute, with voices sweet, that suit; all in a fair concord. in samuel you may read how one was troubled, was troubled indeed, who crown and sceptre bore; an evil spirit lay on his mind both night and day, that would not go away, and vexed him very sore. then up and uttered one, said, "jesse hath a son, of singers next to none; david his name they say." "so send for david, fleet, to make me music sweet, that the spirit may retreat, and go from me away." now when that david, he king saul had come to see, and playèd merrily. upon his stringèd harp, the devil in all speed, with music ill agreed, from saul the king, he fleed, impatient to depart. now there be creatures three as you may plainly see with music can't agree upon this very earth the swine, the fool, the ass, and so we let it pass and sing, o lord, thy praise whilst we have breath. so now, my friends, adieu! i hope that all of you will pull most strong and true, in strain to serve the lord. god prosper us, that we like angels may agree, in singing merrily in tune and in accord. no. green broom c.j.s. [music] there was an old man lived out in the wood, his trade was a-cutting of broom, green broom; he had but one son without thrift, without good, who lay in his bed till 'twas noon, bright noon. the old man awoke, one morning and spoke, he swore he would fire the room, that room, if his john would not rise and open his eyes, and away to the wood to cut broom, green broom. so johnny arose, and he slipped on his clothes, and away to the wood to cut broom, green broom, he sharpened his knives, for once he contrives to cut a great bundle of broom, green broom. when johnny passed under a lady's fine house, passed under a lady's fine room, fine room, she called to her maid, "go fetch me," she said, "go fetch me the boy that sells broom, green broom." when johnny came into the lady's fine house, and stood in the lady's fine room, fine room, "young johnny," she said, "will you give up your trade, and marry a lady in bloom, full bloom?" johnny gave his consent, and to church they both went, and he wedded the lady in bloom, full bloom. at market and fair, all folks do declare, there is none like the boy that sold broom, green broom. no. as johnny walked out c.j.s. [music] as johnny walked out one day it was a summer morn, himself he laid beneath the shade all of a twisted thorn, and as he there lay lazily a shepherdess pass'd by; and 'twas down in yonder valley, love, where the water glideth by. "o have you seen a pretty ewe that hath a tender lamb, a strayed from the orchard glade that little one and dam?" "o pretty maid" he answered, "they passed as here i lie!" and 'twas down in yonder valley, love, where the water glideth by. [ ] she wandered o'er the country wide the sheep she could not find; and many times she did upbraid young johnny in her mind. she sought in leafy forest green she sought them low and high, and 'twas down in yonder valley, love, where the water glideth by. "oh silly maid," young johnny said, "alone why did you seek?" her heart was full of anger, and the flush was in her cheek. "where one alone availeth not, there two your sheep may spie, and 'tis down in yonder valley, love, where the water glideth by." then lo! they both forgot their quest, they found what neither sought, two loving hearts long kept apart together now were brought. he found the words he long had lacked, he found and held her eye; and 'twas down in yonder valley, love, where the water glideth by. [ ] now married were this loving pair, and joined in holy band, no more they go a seeking sheep, together hand in hand. around her feet play children sweet, beneath the summer sky, and 'tis down in yonder valley, love, where the water glideth by. [footnote : these verses may be omitted in singing.] [footnote : these verses may be omitted in singing.] no. the miller and his sons c.j.s. [music] there was a miller, as you shall hear, long time he lived in devonshire, he was took sick and deadly ill, and had no time to write his will! he was took sick and deadly ill, and had no time to write his will. so he call'd up his eldest son, said he, "my glass is almost run. if i to thee my mill shall give, tell me what toll thou'lt take to live?" "father," said he, "my name is jack, from every bushel i'll take a peck. from every grist that i do grind, that i may thus good living find." "thou art a fool," the old man said, "thou hast not half acquired thy trade. my mill to thee i ne'er will give for by such toll no man can live." then he call'd up his second son, said he, "my glass is almost run. if i to thee my mill shall make, tell me what toll to live thou'lt take?" "father you know my name is ralph, from every bushel i'll take a half from every grist that i do grind, that i may thus a living find." "thou art a fool," the old man said; "thou hast not half acquired thy trade. my mill to thee i will not give, for by such toll no man may live." then he call'd up his youngest son, says he, "my glass is almost run. if i to thee my mill shall make tell me what toll, to live, thou'lt take?" "father i am your youngest boy. in taking toll is all my joy. before i would good living lack, i'd take the whole--forswear the sack." "thou art the boy," the old man said, "for thou hast full acquired the trade. the mill is thine," the old man cried, he laugh'd, gave up the ghost, and died. no. ormond the brave c.j.s. [music] i am ormond the brave, did ye never hear of me? who lately was driven from my own country. they tried me, condemned me, they plundered my estate, for being so loyal to queen anne the great, crying, o! i am ormond, you know. o to vict'ry i led, and i vanquished every foe, some do call me james butler, i'm ormond, you know, i am queen anne's darling, and old england's delight, a friend to the church, in fanatic's despite, crying, o! i am ormond, you know. then awake devon dogs, and arise you cornish cats, and follow me a chasing the hanoverian rats, they shall fly from the country, we'll guard the british throne, have no german electors with a king, sirs, of our own. crying, o! i am ormond, you know. o i wronged not my country as scottish peers do, nor my soldiers defrauded, of that which is their due. all such deeds i do abhor, by the powers that are above, i've bequeath'd all my fortune to the country i love. crying, o! i am ormond, you know. no. sir john barleycorn c.j.s. [music] there came three men from out the west their victory to try; and they have ta'en a solemn oath, poor barleycorn should die. with a ri-fol-lol-riddle-diddle-dol ri fol, ri fol dee. they took a plough and ploughed him in, clods harrowed on his head; and then they took a solemn oath john barleycorn was dead. with a ri-fol &c. there he lay sleeping in the ground till rain did on him fall; then barleycorn sprung up his head, and so amazed them all. with a ri-fol &c. there he remained till midsummer and look'd both pale and wan; then barleycorn he got a beard and so became a man. with a ri-fol &c. then they sent men with scythes so sharp to cut him off at knee; and then poor johnny barleycorn they served most barbarouslie. with a ri-fol &c. then they sent men with pitch forks strong to pierce him through the heart; and like a doleful tragedy they bound him in a cart. with a ri-fol &c. and then they brought him to a barn a prisoner to endure; and so they fetched him out again, and laid him on the floor. with a ri-fol &c. then they set men with holly clubs, to beat the flesh from th' bones; but the miller served him worse than that he ground him 'twixt two stones. with a ri-fol &c. o! barleycorn is the choicest grain that 'ere was sown on land it will do more than any grain, by the turning of your hand. with a ri-fol &c. it will make a boy into a man, a man into an ass; to silver it will change your gold, your silver into brass. with a ri-fol &c. it will make the huntsman hunt the fox, that never wound a horn; it will bring the tinker to the stocks that people may him scorn. with a ri-fol &c. o! barleycorn is th' choicest grain, that e'er was sown on land. and it will cause a man to drink till he neither can go nor stand. with a ri-fol &c. no. sweet nightingale c.j.s. [music] my sweet-heart, come along. don't you hear the fond song the sweet notes of the nightingale flow? don't you hear the fond tale, of the sweet nightingale, as she sings in the valleys below? pretty betty, don't fail, for i'll carry your pail safe home to your cot as we go; you shall hear the fond tale of the sweet nightingale, as she sings in the valleys below. pray let me alone, i have hands of my own, along with you sir, i'll not go, to hear the fond tale of the sweet nightingale, as she sings in the valleys below. pray sit yourself down with me on the ground, on this bank where the primroses grow, you shall hear the fond tale of the sweet nightingale, as she sings in the valleys below. the couple agreed, and were married with speed, and soon to the church they did go; no more is she afraid for to walk in the shade, nor sit in those valleys below. no. widdecombe fair c.j.s. [music] "tom pearce, tom pearce, lend me your grey mare, all along, down along, out along, lee. for i want for to go to widdecombe fair, wi' bill brewer, jan stewer, peter gurney, peter davy, dan'l whiddon, harry hawk, old uncle tom cobbley and all," _chorus_: old uncle tom cobbley and all. "and when shall i see again my grey mare?" all along, &c. "by friday soon, or saturday noon, wi' bill brewer, jan stewer, &c." then friday came, and saturday noon, all along, &c. but tom pearce's old mare hath not trotted home, wi' bill brewer, &c. so tom pearce he got up to the top o' the hill all along, &c. and he seed his old mare down a making her will wi' bill brewer, &c. so tom pearce's old mare, her took sick and died. all along, &c. and tom he sat down on a stone, and he cried wi' bill brewer, &c. but this isn't the end o' this shocking affair, all along, &c. nor, though they be dead, of the horrid career of bill brewer, &c. when the wind whistles cold on the moor of a night all along, &c. tom pearce's old mare doth appear, gashly white, wi' bill brewer, &c. and all the long night be heard skirling and groans, all along, &c. from tom pearce's old mare in her rattling bones, and from bill brewer, jan stewer, peter gurney, peter davy, dan'l whiddon, harry hawk, old uncle tom cobbley and all. _chorus_: old uncle tom cobbley and all. no. ye maidens pretty c.j.s. [music] ye maidens pretty in town and city, i pray you pity my mournful strain. a maiden weeping, her night-watch keeping, in grief unsleeping makes her complain: in tower i languish in cold and sadness, heart full of anguish, eye full of tear. whilst glades are ringing with maidens singing, sweet roses bringing to crown the year. thro' hills and vallies thro' shaded alleys, and pleached palis-- ading of grove; among fair bowers, midst fragrant flowers, pass sunny hours, and sing of love. in tower i languish, &c. my cruel father gave straitest order, by watch and warder, i barr'd should be. all in my chamber, high out of danger, from eye of ranger, in misery. in tower i languish, &c. enclosed in mortar, by wall and water, a luckless daughter all white and wan; till day is breaking my bed forsaking, i all night waking sing like the swan. in tower i languish, in cold and sadness, heart full of anguish, eye full of tear, whilst glades are ringing with maidens singing sweet roses bringing, to crown the year. no. the silly old man h.f.s. [music] aw! come now, i'll sing you a song, 'tis a song of right merry intent, concerning a silly old man, who went for to pay his rent, singing, too-ra-la-loo-ra-loo. and as this here silly old man, was riding along the lane, a gentleman thief overtook him, saying "well over-taken old man." "what! well over-taken, do'y say?" "yes, well over-taken," quoth he. "no, no," said the silly old man. "i don't want thy company. "i am only a silly old man, i farm but a parcel of ground. and i am going to the landlord to pay, my rent which is just forty pound." "but supposing a highway-man stopped you? for the rascals are many, men say, and take all the money from off you as you ride on the king's highway?" "what! supposing some fellow should stop me? why badly the thief would be sped. for the money i carry about me in the quilt o' my saddle is hid." and as they were riding along, along and along the green lane, the gentleman thief rode afore him and summoned the old man to stand. but the old man was crafty and cunning, as, i wot, in the world there be many, pitched his saddle clean over the hedge, saying, "fetch'n if thou would'st have any," singing, too-ra-la-loo-ra-loo. then the thief being thirsty for gold, and eager to get at his bags, he dra'ed out his rusty old sword, and chopped up the saddle to rags. the old man slipped off his old mare, and mounted the thief's horse astride, clapp'd spur, and put him in a gallop, saying "i, without teaching, can ride." when he to his landlord's had come, that old man was almost a-spent, says he, "landlord, provide me a room. i be come for to pay up my rent." he opened the thief, his portmantle and there was a sight to behold, there were five hundred pounds in silver, and five hundred pounds in gold. and as he was on his way home, and riding along the same lane, he seed--his silly old mare, tied up to the hedge by the mane. he loosed his old mare from the hedge, as she of the grass there did crib, he gi'ed her a whack o' the broad o' the back, saying "follow me home, old tib." aw! when to his home he were come his daughter he dress'd like a duchess, and his ol' woman kicked and she capered for joy, and at christmas danced jigs on her crutches. singing, too-ra-la-loo-ra-loo. no. the months of the year c.j.s. [music] first comes january when the sun lies very low; i see in the farmer's yard the cattle feed on stro'; the weather being so cold while the snow lies on the ground, there will be another change of moon before the year comes round. next is february, so early in the spring; the farmer ploughs the fallows the rooks their nests begin. the little lambs appearing now frisk in pretty play. i think upon the increase, and thank my god, to-day. march it is the next month, so cold and hard and drear. prepare we now for harvest, by brewing of strong beer. god grant that we who labour, may see the reaping come, and drink and dance and welcome the happy harvest home. next of months is april, when early in the morn the cheery farmer soweth to right and left the corn. the gallant team come after, a-smoothing of the land. may heaven the farmer prosper whate'er he takes in hand. in may i go a walking to hear the linnets sing. the blackbird and the throstle a-praising god the king. it cheers the heart to hear them to see the leaves unfold, the meadows scattered over with buttercups of gold. full early in the morning awakes the summer sun, the month of june arriving, the cold and night are done, the cuckoo is a fine bird she whistles as she flies, and as she whistles, cuckoo, the bluer grow the skies. six months i now have named, the seventh is july. come lads and lasses gather the scented hay to dry, all full of mirth and gladness to turn it in the sun, and never cease till daylight sets and all the work is done. august brings the harvest, the reapers now advance, against their shining sickles the field stands little chance. well done! exclaims the farmer. this day is all men's friend. we'll drink and feast in plenty when we the harvest end. by middle of september, the rake is laid aside. the horses wear the breeching rich dressing to provide, all things to do in season, me-thinks is just and right. now summer season's over the frosts begin at night. october leads in winter. the leaves begin to fall. the trees will soon be naked no flowers left at all. the frosts will bite them sharply the elm alone is green. in orchard piles of apples red for cyder press are seen. the eleventh month, november, the nights are cold and long, by day we're felling timber, and spend the night in song. in cozy chimney corner we take our toast and ale, and kiss and tease the maidens, or tell a merry tale. then comes dark december, the last of months in turn. with holly, box, and laurel, we house and church adorn. so now, to end my story, i wish you all good cheer. a merry, happy christmas, a prosperous new year. no. the chimney sweep c.j.s. [music] oh! sweep chimney, sweep! you maidens shake off sleep if you my cry can follow. i climb the chimney top, without ladder without rope; aye and there! aye and there! aye and there you shall hear me halloo! arise! maids, arise! unseal and rub your eyes. arise and do your duty. i summon yet again and do not me disdain, that my call--that my call--that my calling's poor and sooty. behold! here i stand! with brush and scrape in hand. as a soldier that stands on his sentry. i work for the better sort, and well they pay me for't. o i work, o i work, o i work for the best of gentry. oh! sweep chimney, sweep! the hours onward creep. as the lark i am alert, i clear away, and take the smut that others make. o i clean, o i clean, o i clean what others dirty. no. the saucy sailor (for two voices) c.j.s. [music] _he_: "come my fairest, come my dearest love with me. come and you shall wed a sailor from the sea." _she_: faith i want none of your sailors, i must say. so begone you saucy creature. so begone from me, i pray. "you are ragged, you are dirty, smell of tar. get you gone to foreign countries, hence afar." _he_: "if i'm ragged, if i'm dirty, of tar i smell, yet there's silver in my pockets, and of gold, a store as well." _she_: "now i see the shining silver, see the gold; down i kneel, and very humbly hands will fold; saying o forgive the folly from me fell, tarry, dirty, ragged sailors, i love more than words can tell." _he_: "do not think, you changeful maiden, i am mad. that i'll take you, when there's others to be had. not the outside coat and waistcoat make the man. you have lost the chance that offered. maidens snap--when e'er you can." no. blue muslin (for two voices) h.f.s. [music] "o will you accept of the mus-e-lin so blue, to wear all in the morning, and to dabble in the dew?" "no, i will not accept of the mus-e-lin so blue, to wear all in the morning, and to dabble in the dew, nor i'll walk, nor i'll talk with you." "o will you accept of the pretty silver pin, to pin your golden hair with the fine mus-e-lin?" "no, i will not accept of the pretty silver pin, to pin my golden hair with the fine mus-e-lin. nor i'll walk, nor i'll talk with you." "o will you accept of a pair of shoes of cork, the one is made in london, the other's made in york?" "no, i will not accept of a pair of shoes of cork, the one that's made in london, the other's made in york, nor i'll walk, nor i'll talk with you." "o will you accept of the keys of canterbury, that all the bells of england may ring, and make us merry?" "no, i will not accept of the keys of canterbury, that all the bells of england may ring, and make us merry, nor i'll walk, nor i'll talk with you." "o will you accept of a kiss from loving heart; that we may join together and never more may part?" "yes, i will accept of a kiss from loving heart, that we may join together and never more may part, and i'll walk, and i'll talk with you." "when you might you would not; now you will you shall not, so fare you well, my dark eyed sue." the song then turns back in reverse order, with the "shoes of cork" the "silver pin" and the "blue muslin," always with to each "when you could you would not," &c. no. the death of parker c.j.s. [music] ye powers above protect the widow, and with pity look on me! o help me, help me out of trouble and out of my calamity. for by the death of my brave parker fortune to me has prov'd unkind. tho' doomed by law his death to suffer, i can not cast him from my mind. o parker was the truest husband, best of friends, whom i love dear. yet when he was a-called to suffer, to him i might not then draw near. again i ask'd, again i pleaded, three times entreating, all in vain, they ever that request refused me, and ordered me ashore again. the yellow flag i saw was flying, a signal for my love to die, the gun was fir'd, as was requir'd to hang him on the yardarm high. the boatswain did his best endeavour, i on the shore was put straightway, there i tarried, watching, weeping, my husband's corpse to bear away. then farewell parker best belov-ed that was once the navy's pride. and since we might not die together, we separate henceforth abide. his sorrows now are past and over, now he resteth free from pain. grant o god his soul may enter, where one day we may meet again. no. the hal-an-tow or helston furry dance arranged by j. matthews. [music] robin hood and little john they both are gone to the fair, o! and we will to the merry green-wood, to see what they do there o! and for to chase, o, to chase the buck and doe! with hal-an-tow, jolly rumble, o, to chase the buck and doe! chorus. and we were up as soon as the day, for to fetch the summer home, o! the summer, and the may, now the winter is a gone, o! where are those spaniards, that make so great a boast, o! why, they shall eat the grey goose feathers, and we will eat the roast, o! in every land, o, the land where'er we go, with hal-an-tow, jolly rumble o, the land where'er we go. chorus. and we were up, &c. as for that good knight, s. george, s. george he was a knight, o! of all the knights in christendom! s. george he is the right, o! in every land, o! the land where'er we go, with hal-an-tow, jolly rumble, o, the land where'er we go. chorus. and we were up, &c. god bless aunt mary moses[ ] and all her power and might, o! and send us peace in merry england, send peace by day and night, o! to merry england, o! both now and ever mo' with hal-an-tow, jolly rumble, o, both now and ever mo! chorus. and we were up, &c. [footnote : "aunt" and "uncle" are titles of reverence given in cornwall quite irrespective of relationship.] no. blow away ye morning breezes c.j.s. [music] blow away, ye morning breezes, blow, ye winds, heigh-ho! blow away the morning kisses, blow, blow, blow. "o thou shalt rue the very hour, that e'er thou knew'st the man, for i will bake the wheaten flour, and thou shalt bake the bran." chorus. blow away, ye morning breezes, &c. "o thou shalt sorrow thro' thy soul thou stood'st to him so near. for thou shalt drink the puddle foul, and i the crystal clear." chorus. blow away ye morning breezes, &c. "o thou shalt rue that e'er thou wo'ld behold a love of mine. for thou shalt sup the water cold, but i will sup red wine." chorus. blow away ye morning breezes, &c. "thou shalt lament in grief and doubt, thou spake'st with him at all, for thou shalt wear the sorry clout, and i the purple pall." chorus. blow away ye morning breezes, &c. "o thou shalt curse thy day of birth, and curse thy dam and sire, for i shall warm me at the hearth, and thou shalt feed the fire." chorus. blow away ye morning breezes, &c. note. in the original of the above ballad each verse is repeated with the variation of "i shall not," for "i shall" &c. thus after the first verse comes, i shall _not_ rue the very hour that e'er i knew the man but _i_ will bake the wheaten flour and _thou_ shalt bake the bran. it seems unnecessary to print these repetitions. no. the hearty good fellow c.j.s. [music] i saddled my horse, and away i did ride till i came to an ale-house hard by the road-side, i call'd for a pot of ale frothing and brown, and close by the fireside i sat myself down, singing, whack, fal-de-dee, whack, fal-de-dee! and i in my pocket had one penny. i saw there two gentlemen playing at dice, they took me to be some nobleman nice. with my swagger, and rapier, and countenance bold, they thought that my pockets were well lined with gold, singing, whack, fal-de-dee, whack, fal-de-dee! and i in my pocket had one penny. "a hearty good fellow," they said, "loveth play." "that lies with the stakes, pretty sirs, that you lay." then one said "a guinea," but i said "five pound," the bet it was taken--no money laid down, singing, whack, fal-de-dee, whack, fal-de-dee! and i in my pocket had one penny. i took up the dice, and i threw them the main, it was my good fortune, that evening, to gain; if they had a won, sirs, there'd been a loud curse, when i threw in naught save a moneyless purse. singing, whack, fal-de-dee, whack, fal-de-dee! and i in my pocket had one penny. was ever a mortal a quarter as glad, with the little of money at first that i had! a hearty good fellow, as most men opine i am; so my neighbours pray pour out the wine, singing, whack, fal-de-dee, whack, fal-de-dee! and i in my pocket had five pounds, free. i tarried all night, and i parted next day, thinks i to myself, i'll be jogging away! i asked of the landlady what was my bill, "o naught save a kiss of your lips, if you will." singing, whack, fal-de-dee, whack, fal-de-dee! and i in my pocket had five pounds, free. no. the bonny bunch of roses h.f.s. [music] beside the rolling ocean one morning in the month of june, the feathered warbling songsters were sweetly changing note and tune. i overheard a damsel fair complain in words of bitter woe, with tear on cheek, she thus did speak, o for the bonny bunch of roses, o! then up and spake her lover and grasped the maiden by the hand, have patience, fairest, patience! a legion i will soon command. i'll raise ten thousand soldiers brave thro' pain and peril i will go a branch will break, for thy sweet sake, a branch of the bonny bunch of roses, o! then sadly said his mother, as tough as truest heart of oak, that stem that bears the roses, and is not easy bent or broke thy father he essayed it first and now in france his head lies low; for sharpest thorn, is ever borne o by the bonny bunch of roses, o! he raised a mighty army and many nobles joined his throng with pipe and banner flying to pluck the rose, he march'd along: the stem he found was far too tough and piercing sharp, the thorn, i trow. no blossom he rent from the tree all of the bonny bunch of roses, o! o mother, dearest mother! i lie upon my dying bed, and like my gallant father must hide an uncrowned, humbled head. let none henceforth essay to touch that rose so red, or full of woe, with bleeding hand he'll fly the land the land of the bonny bunch of roses, o! no. the last of the singers c.j.s. [music] i reckon the days is departed, when folks 'ud a listened to me, and i feels like as one broken-hearted, a-thinking o' what used to be. and i don't know as much be amended, than was in them merry old times, when, wi' pipes and good ale, folks attended, to me and my purty old rhymes, chorus: to me and my purty old rhymes. 'tis true, i be cruel asthmatic i've lost every tooth i' my head; and my limbs be that crim'd wi' rheumatic d'rsay i were better in bed. oh my! all the world be for reading newspapers, and books and what not; sure--'tis only conceitedness breeding, and the old singing man is forgot. chorus: and the old singing man is forgot. i reckon that wi' my brown fiddle i'd go from this cottage to that; all the youngsters 'ud dance in the middle, their pulses and feet, pit-a-pat. i cu'd zing, if you'd stand me the liquor, all the night, and 'ud never give o'er my voice--i don't deny it getting thicker, but never exhausting my store. chorus: but never exhausting my store. 'tis politics now is the fashion as sets folks about by the ear. and slops makes the poorest of lushing, no zinging for me wi'out beer. i reckon the days be departed for such jolly gaffers as i, folks never will be so light-hearted as they was in the days that's gone by. chorus: as they was in the days that's gone by. o lor! what wi' their edication, and me--neither cypher nor write; but in zinging the best in the nation and give the whole parish delight. i be going, i reckon, full mellow to lay in the churchyard my head; so say--god be wi' you, old fellow! the last o' the zingers is dead. chorus: the last o' the zingers is dead. no. the tythe pig c.j.s. [music] all you that love a bit of fun, come listen here awhile, i'll tell you of a droll affair, will cause you all to smile. the parson dress'd, all in his best, cock'd hat and bushy wig, he went into a farmer's house, to choose a sucking pig. good morning, said the parson; good morning, sir, to you! i'm come to take a sucking pig, a pig that is my due. then went the farmer to the stye, amongst the piglings small, he chose the very wee-est pig, the wee-est of them all; but when the parson saw the choice, how he did stamp and roar! he snorted loud, he shook his wig, he almost-cursed and swore. good morning &c. o then out spake the farmer, since my offer you refuse pray step into the stye yourself, that you may pick and choose. so to the stye the priest did hie, and there without ado, the old sow ran with open mouth, and grunting at him flew. good morning &c. she caught him by the breeches black, that loudly he did cry o help me! help me from the sow! or surely i shall die. the little pigs his waistcoat tore, his stockings and his shoes, the farmer said, with bow and smile, you're welcome, sir, to choose. good morning &c. away the parson scamper'd home, as fast as he could run, his wife was standing at the door, expecting his return, but when she saw him in such plight she fainted clean away, alas! alas! the parson said, i bitter rue this day. good morning &c. go fetch me down a suit of clothes, a sponge and soap, i pray, and bring me, too, my greasy wig, and rub me down with hay. another time, i won't be nice, when a gathering my dues; another time in sucking pigs, i will not pick and choose. good morning, said the parson, good morning, sirs, to you, i will not pick a sucking pig--i leave the choice to you. no. old wichet c.j.s. [music] i went into my stable to see what i might see, and there i saw three horses stand, by one, by two, by three. i call'd unto my loving wife, and "coming sir!" said she, "o what do these three horses here without the leave of me?" "why, old fool, blind fool! can't you very well see, that these are three milking cows my mother sent to me?" "hey boys! fill the cup! milking cows with saddles up, the like was never known, the like was never known." old wichet went a noodle out, a noodle he came home. i went into the kitchen, to see what i might see, and there i saw three swords hung up, by one, by two, by three. i call'd unto my loving wife, and "coming sir!" said she, "o what do these three swords hang here without the leave of me?" "why, old fool, blind fool! can't you very well see, that these are three toasting forks, my mother sent to me?" "hey boys! well done! toasting forks with scabbards on! the like," &c. i went into the pantry, to see what i might see, and there i saw three pair of boots, by one, by two, by three. i called unto my loving wife, and "coming sir!" said she, "o what do these three pair of boots without the leave of me?" "why, old fool, blind fool! can't you very well see, that these are three pudding bags, my mother sent to me?" "hey boys! well done! pudding bags with steel spurs on, the like," &c. i went into the dairy, to see what i might see, and there i saw three beavers, by one, by two, by three. i call'd unto my kind wife, and "coming sir!" said she, "o what do these three beavers here without the leave of me?" "why, old fool, blind fool! can't you very well see, that these are three milking pails, my mother sent to me?" "hey boys! well done! milking pails with ribbons on, the like," &c. i went into the chamber, to see what i might see, and there i saw three men in bed, by one, by two, by three. i called unto my kind wife, and "coming sir!" said she, "o why sleep here three gentlemen without the leave of me?" "why old fool, blind fool! can't you very well see, that these are three milking maids, my mother sent to me?" "hey boys! well done! milking maids with beards on, the like," &c. i went about the chamber, as quick as quick might be, i kicked the three men down the stairs, by one, by two, by three. "without your hats and boots be off, your horses leave and flee, your purses 'neath your pillows left; they too belong to me. why old wife, blind wife! can't you very well see, that these are three highwaymen from justice hid by thee?" "hey boys! purses left! knaves they be, and away are flown. the like was never known, the like was never known." old wichet went a noodle out, a wise man he came home. no. jan's courtship c.j.s. [music] come hither, son jan! since thou art a man, i'll gi'e the best counsel in life, come, sit down by me, and my story shall be, i'll tell how to get thee a wife. iss, i will! man, i will! zure i will! i'll tell how to get thee a wife! iss, i will! thy self thou must dress in thy sunday-go-best; they'll at first turn away and be shy. but boldly, kiss each purty maid that thou see'st, they'll call thee their love, by-and-bye. iss, they will! man, they will! zure they will! they'll call thee their love by-and-bye! iss, they will! so a courting jan goes in his holiday clothes, all trim, nothing ragged and torn, from his hat to his hose; with a sweet yellow rose, he looked like a gentleman born. iss, he did! man he did! zure he did! he looked like a gentleman born! iss he did! the first pretty lass that jan did see pass, a farmer's fat daughter called grace. he'd scarce said 'how do?' and a kind word or two, her fetched him a slap in the face. iss, her did! man, her did! zure her did! her fetched him a slap in the face! iss, her did! as jan, never fearing o' nothing at all was walking adown by the locks, he kiss'd the parson's wife, which stirred up a strife and jan was put into the stocks. iss, he was! man, he was! zure he was! and jan was put into the stocks! iss, he was! 'if this be the way, how to get me a wife,' quoth jan, 'i will never have none. i'd rather live single the whole of my life and home to my mammy i'll run. iss, i will! man, i will zure i will! and home to my mammy i'll run! iss, i will.' no. the drowned lover h.f.s. [music] as i was a-walking down by the sea-shore, where the winds whistled high, and the waters did roar, where the winds whistled high, and the waves raged around, i heard a fair maid make a pitiful sound, crying, o! my love is drowned! my love must i deplore! and i never, o! never shall see my love more! i never a nobler, a truer did see a lion in courage, but gentle to me, an eye like an eagle, a heart like a dove, and the song that he sang me was ever of love. now i cry, o! my love is drowned! my love must i deplore! and i never, o! never shall see my love more! he is sunk in the waters, there lies he asleep, i will plunge there as well, i will kiss his cold feet, i will kiss the white lips, once coral-like red, and die at his side, for my true love is dead. now i cry, o! my love is drowned. my love must i deplore and i never, o! never shall see my love more! no. childe the hunter c.j.s. [music] come, listen all, both great and small to you a tale i'll tell, what on this bleak and barren moor, in ancient days befell. it so befell, as i've heard tell, there came the hunter childe, all day he chased on heath and waste, on dart-a-moor so wild. the winds did blow, then fell the snow, he chased on fox-tor mire; he lost his way, and saw the day, and winter's sun expire. cold blew the blast, the snow fell fast, and darker grew the night; he wandered high, he wandered low, and nowhere saw a light. in darkness blind, he could not find where he escape might gain, long time he tried, no track espied, his labours all in vain. his knife he drew, his horse he slew, as on the ground it lay; he cut full deep, therein to creep, and tarry till the day. the winds did blow, fast fell the snow, and darker grew the night, then well he wot, he hope might not again to see the light. so with his finger dipp'd in blood, he scrabbled on the stones,-- "this is my will, god it fulfil, and buried be my bones. "whoe'er he be that findeth me and brings me to a grave, the lands that now to me belong, in plymstock he shall have." there was a cross erected then, in memory of his name; and there it stands, in wild waste lands, to testify the same. no. the cottage thatched with straw f.w.b. [music] in the days of yore, there sat at his door, an old farmer and thus sang he, 'with my pipe and my glass, i wish every class on the earth were as well as me!' for he en-vi-ed not any man his lot, the richest, the proudest, he saw, for he had home-brew'd--brown bread, and a cottage well thatch'd with straw, a cottage well thatch'd with straw, and a cottage well thatch'd with straw; for he had home-brew'd, brown bread, and a cottage well thatch'd with straw. 'my dear old dad this snug cottage had, and he got it, i'll tell you how. he won it, i wot, with the best coin got, with the sweat of an honest brow. then says my old dad, be careful lad to keep out of the lawyer's claw. so you'll have home-brew'd--brown bread, and a cottage well thatch'd with straw. a cottage well thatch'd with straw, &c. 'the ragged, the torn, from my door i don't turn, but i give them a crust of brown; and a drop of good ale, my lad, without fail, for to wash the brown crust down. tho' rich i may be, it may chance to me, that misfortune should spoil my store, so--i'd lack home-brew'd--brown bread, and a cottage well thatch'd with straw, a cottage well thatch'd with straw, &c. 'then in frost and snow to the church i go, no matter the weather how. and the service and prayer that i put up there, is to him who speeds the plough. sunday saints, i' feck, who cheat all the week, with a ranting and a canting jaw, not for them is my home-brew'd--brown bread, and my cottage well thatch'd with straw. my cottage well thatch'd with straw my cottage well thatch'd with straw. not for them is my home-brew'd--brown bread, and my cottage well thatch'd with straw.' no. cicely sweet c.j.s. [music] _he:_ cicely sweet, the morn is fair, wilt thou drive me to despair? oft have i sued in vain and now i'm come again, wilt thou be mine, or yes or no? wilt thou be mine, or no? _she:_ prithee, simon quit thy suit, all thy pains will yield no fruit; go booby, get a sack, to stop thy ceaseless clack. go for a booby, go, go, go! go for a booby, go! _he:_ cicely sweet, if thou'lt love me, mother'll do a deal for thee. her'd rather sell her cow, than i should die for thou. wilt thou be mine, or yes or no? wilt thou be mine, or no? _she:_ mother thine had best by half, keep her cow and sell her calf; no, never for a crown; will i marry with a clown; go for a booby, go, go, go! go for a booby, go! _he:_ cicely sweet, you do me wrong, my legs be straight, my arms be strong i'll carry thee about, thou'lt go no more afoot, wilt thou be mine or yes, or no? wilt thou be mine, or no? _she_: keep thy arms to fight in fray, keep thy legs to run away; ne'er will i--as i'm a lass, care to ride upon an ass. go for a booby, go, go, go! go for a booby, go! no. a sweet pretty maiden sat under a tree h.f.s. [music] a sweet pretty maiden sat under a tree, she sighed and said, 'oh! that i married might be, my daddy is so crabbed and my mammy is so cross, that a husband for certain could never be worse.' young johnny he heard what the damsel did say. he came to her side, and said smiling, 'today i have a little cottage and i have a little horse i have a pleasant temper that will not grow worse. 'if you will be mine, and to that will agree, we'll travel together in sweet amity. there never will be wrangle, there never can be strife, between a good husband and his pretty wife.' the maiden replied, 'i am not very sure, that fond matrimony my trouble will cure, from daddy and from mammy i quickly run away and go into service for a year and a day. 'the ring that you hold is a link in a chain, will fetter my freedom, my tongue will restrain i cannot run away, and i never shall be free, so take your kind offer to others than me.' no. the white cockade c.j.s. [music] alas! my love's enlisted, he wears a white cockade, he is as gay a gallant, as any roving blade. he's gone the king a serving, the white cockade to wear, whilst my poor heart is breaking, for the love to him i bear. "leave off your grief and sorrow, and quit this doleful strain, the white cockade adorns me whilst marching o'er the plain. when i return i'll marry, by this cockade i swear. your heart from grief must rally, and my departure bear." "fair maid, i bring bad tidings." so did the sergeant say; "your love was slain in battle, he sends you this to-day, the white cockade he flourished now dabbled in his gore. with his last kiss he sends it, the white cockade he wore." she spoke no word--her tears, they fell a salten flood; and from the draggled ribbons washed out the stains of blood. "o mother i am dying! and when in grave i'm laid, upon my bosom, mother! then pin the white cockade." no. the sailor's farewell c.j.s. [music] farewell! farewell, my polly dear! a thousand times adieu! 'tis sad to part; but never fear, your sailor will be true. and must i go, and leave you so-- while thund'ring billows roar? i am afraid, my own sweet maid, your face i'll see no more. the weavers and the tailors are snoring fast asleep, while we poor 'jolly sailors' are tossing on the deep: are tossing on the deep, dear girl, in tempest rage and foam; when seas run high, and dark the sky, we think on those at home. when jack's ashore, safe home once more, we lead a merry life; with pipe and glass, and buxom lass, a sweetheart or a wife; we call for liquor merrily, we spend our money free, and when our money's spent and gone, again we go to sea. you'll not know where i am, dear girl, but when i'm on the sea, my secret thoughts i will unfurl in letters home to thee. the secrets, aye! of heart, i say, and best of my good will. my body may lay just where it may my heart is with you still. no. a maiden sat a weeping c.j.s. [music] a maiden sat a-weeping down by the sea shore, what ails my pretty mistress? what ails my pretty mistress? and makes her heart sore! because i am a-weary, a-weary in mind, no comfort, and no pleasure, love, no comfort, and no pleasure, love, henceforth can i find. i'll spread my sail of silver, i'll loose my rope of silk, my mast is of the cypress-tree, my mast is of the cypress-tree, my track is as milk. i'll spread my sail of silver i'll steer toward the sun and thou, false love wilt weep for me, and thou, false love wilt weep for me, for me--when i am gone. no. the blue kerchief f.w.b. [music] i saw a sweet maiden trip over the lea, her eyes were as loadstones attracting of me. her cheeks were the roses, that cupid lurks in, with a bonny blue kerchief tied under her chin. o where are you going, my fair pretty maid? o whither so swift through the dew drops? i said, i go to my mother, kind sir, for to spin. o the bonny blue kerchief tied under her chin. [ ] why wear you that kerchief tied over your head? 'tis the country girls' fashion, kind sir, then she said. and the fashion young maidens will always be in so i wear a blue kerchief tied under my chin. to kiss her sweet lips then i sought to begin, o nay sir! she said, 'ere a kiss you would win, pray show me a ring, tho' of gold the most thin. o slyest blue kerchief tied under the chin! why wear a _blue_ kerchief, sweet maiden, i said, because the blue colour is one not to fade, as a sailor's blue jacket who fights for the king, so's my bonny blue kerchief tied under the chin. the love that i value is certain to last, not fading and changing, but ever set fast, that only the colour, my love sir to win, so goodbye from the kerchief tied under the chin. [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] no. come to my window c.j.s. [music] come to my window, my love, o my love, come to my window, my dear. for my mammy is asleep, and my daddy snoreth deep, then come, e'er the day-light appear. come to my window, my love, o my love, come to my window, i pray. o the hours so quickly pass, and the dew falls on the grass. dear love come, e'er dawneth the day. come to my window, my love, o my love, come or my heart strings will break. for the night is speeding by, soon will morning streak the sky, and my dad and my mam will awake. come to my window, my love, o my love, come e'er the stars cease to shine. for my heart is full of fears, and my voice is chok'd with tears, i am thine, o thou know'st i am thine. no. tommy a' lynn c.j.s. [music] tommy a' lynn was a dutchman born, his head was bald and his chin was shorn; he wore a cap made of rabbit's skin with the skin side out and the wool within. all to my tooth and my link-a-lum-lee tommy a ranter and a rover, tommy a bone of my stover, brew, screw, rivet the tin, o a rare old man was tommy a' lynn. tommy a' lynn had no boots to put on, but two calves hides with the hair all gone. they were split at the side and the water ran in, i must wear wet feet, said tommy a' lynn. all to my tooth, &c. tommy a' lynn has a hunting gone. a saddle of urchin's skins he put on. the urchin's prickles were sharp as a pin, i've got a sore seat, said tommy a' lynn. all to my tooth, &c. tommy a' lynn has a hunting gone. a bridle of mouse tails has he put on. the bridle broke and the horse ran away, i'm not well bridled, said tommy, to-day. all to my tooth, &c.[ ] tom a' lynn's daughter, she sat on the stair, o father i fancy i'm wondrous fair! the stairs they broke, and the maid fell in, you're fair enough now, said tommy a' lynn. all to my tooth, &c. tommy a' lynn, his wife and her mother they all fell into the fire together. ow yow! said the upper-most, i've a hot skin, it's hotter below! said tommy a' lynn. all to my tooth, &c. [footnote : there is another verse, but it would make the song over long to sing it. tommy a' lynn had no watch to put on, so he scooped out a turnip to make himself one; he caught a cricket, and put it within. it's a rare old ticker, said tommy a' lynn.] no. the green bushes h.f.s. [music] as i was a walking one morning in may, to hear the birds whistle, see lambkins at play, i spied a fair damsel, o sweetly sang she-- 'down by the green bushes he thinks to meet me.' 'o where are you going, my sweet pretty maid?' 'my lover i'm seeking, kind sir', she said. 'shall i be your lover, and will you agree, to forsake the old love, and forgather with me? 'i'll buy you fine beavers, a gay silken gown, with furbelowed petticoats flounced to the ground, if you'll leave your old love, and following me, forsake the green bushes, where he waits for thee?' 'quick, let us be moving, from under the trees, quick, let us be moving, kind sir, if you please; for yonder my true love is coming, i see, down by the green bushes he thinks to meet me.' the old love arrived, the maiden was gone he sighed very deeply, he sighed all alone, 'she is on with another, before off with me, so, adieu ye green bushes for ever!' said he. 'i'll be as a schoolboy, i'll frolic and play, no false hearted maiden shall trouble my day, untroubled at night, i will slumber and snore, so, adieu, ye green bushes! i'll fool it no more.' no. the broken token c.j.s. [music] one summer evening, a maiden fair was walking forth in the balmy air, she met a sailor upon the way; 'maiden stay' he whispered, 'maiden stay' he whispered 'o pretty maiden, stay!' 'why art thou walking abroad alone? the stars are shining, the day is done,' o then her tears they began to flow; for a dark eyed sailor, for a dark eyed sailor had filled her heart with woe. 'three years are pass'd since he left this land, a ring of gold he took off my hand, he broke the token, a half to keep, half he bade me treasure, half he bade me treasure, then crossed the briny deep.' 'o drive him damsel from out your mind, for men are changeful as is the wind, and love, inconstant will quickly grow cold as winter morning cold as winter morning when lands are white with snow.' 'above the snow is the holly seen, in bitter blast it abideth green, and blood-red drops it as berries bears so my aching bosom, so my aching bosom, its truth and sorrow wears.' then half the ring did the sailor show, away with weeping and sorrow now! 'in bands of marriage united we like the broken token like the broken token in one shall welded be.' no. the mole-catcher. c.j.s. [music] a mole-catcher am i, and that is my trade, i potters about wi' my spunt and my spade, on a moon-shiny night, o! 'tis my delight, a-catching o' moles. the traps that i set for the mole in his run, there's never a night, sirs, but i catches one. on a moon-shiny night, o! 'tis my delight, a-catching o' moles. along of the lanes as by night-time i go, there's things that i see, as the folks don't know, on a moon-shiny night, &c. there's frolic and lark in the field and the park, for others than moles will be out in the dark, on a moon-shiny night, &c. the maiden by day that's too modest to speak is gadding abroad, by the night all the week, on a moon-shiny night, &c. the 'prentice who should be a lying in bed is rambling over the meadows instead, on a moon-shiny night, &c. [ ] i light on the poacher wi' sniggle and snare, but that i'll not peach he is surely aware, on a moon-shiny night, &c. the doctor and lawyer as drunk as a dog, are wallowing into a ditch or a bog, on a moon-shiny night, &c. there's many a sight; and there's many a sound wot maketh me laugh as i'm making my round, on a moon-shiny night, &c. but nothing i sez for i'm mum as a bell, you certainly know that no tales will i tell, on a moon-shiny night, o! 'tis my delight, a-catching o' moles not human souls. [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] no. the keenly lode c.j.s. [music] old uncle pengerric a captain was, a dowser shrewd was he; who feathered his nest from the keenly lode that ruined you and me. the captain was traversing brandy moor, with hazel twig in hand, the hazel twisted and turned about and brought him to a stand. chorus. oh! the keenly lode, the keenly lode of bâlls the best, my boys; old uncle pengerric very well know'd how to feather his nest, my boys. old uncle pengerric so big did brag of ore in brandy bâll, "come fork out your money my christian friends, your fortunes treble all." now uncle was reckoned a preacher stout, a burning and shining light. the people all said, "what he has in head will surely turn out right." chorus. oh! the keenly lode, &c. the company floated, the shares up paid, the gold came flowing in. he set up a whim, and began to sink for the keenly lode of tin. he had not burrowed but five foot six 'ere he came to a buried hoss. said uncle pengerric, "no fault of mine, tho't turn out some one's loss." chorus. oh! the keenly lode, &c. the shaft descended, but ne'er a grain of ore was brought to ground. and presently uncle pengerric too, was not in cornwall found. but wherever he goes, and whenever he talks, he says:--"the rod told true, it brought to me luck, but it turn'd and struck at nought but an old horse-shoe." chorus. oh! the keenly lode, &c. note: a keenly lode is a lode that promises well. a bâll is the cornish for a mine. no. may-day carol c.j.s. [music] awake, ye pretty maids, awake, refreshed from drowsy dream, and haste to dairy house, and take for us a dish of cream. if not a dish of yellow cream, then give us kisses three; the woodland bower is white with flower, and green is every tree. a branch of may we bear about before the door it stands; there's not a sprout unbudded out, the work of god's own hands. awake, awake ye pretty maids, and take the may-bush in, or 'twill be gone ere tomorrow morn, and you'll have none within. throughout the night, before the light, there fell the dew or rain, it twinkles bright on may bush white, it sparkles on the plain. the heavenly gates are open wide to let escape the dew, and heavenly grace falls on each place it drops on us and you. the life of man is but a span, he blossoms as a flower, he makes no stay, is here to-day, and vanish'd in an hour.[ ] my song is done, i must be gone, nor make a longer stay. god bless you all, both great and small, and send you gladsome may. [footnote : verses & , and there have been others of like moralising nature, were added when the character of the may-day visit was altered from one of lovers to their sweet-hearts into one of children seeking may-gifts. then the 'kisses three' were changed to 'pennies one or three.'] no. the lover's tasks c.j.s. [music] _he:_ o buy me, my lady, a cambric shirt whilst every grove rings with a merry antine (_antienne anthem_) and stitch it without any needle work and thou shalt be a true lover of mine. o thou must wash it in yonder well, whilst every grove &c. where never a drop of water in fell, and thou shalt &c. and thou must bleach it on yonder grass, whilst every grove &c. where never a foot or hoof did pass. and thou shalt &c. and thou must hang it upon a white thorn, whilst every grove &c. that never blossom'd since adam was born and thou shalt &c. and when these works are finished and done whilst every grove &c. i'll take and marry thee under the sun. and thou shalt &c. [ ] _she:_ thou must buy for me an acre of land, whilst every grove &c. between the salt sea and the yellow sand and thou shalt &c. thou must plough it o'er with a horses horn whilst every grove &c. and sow it over with a pepper corn, and thou shalt &c. thou must reap it, too, with a piece of leather, whilst every grove &c. and bind it up with a peacock's feather, and thou shalt &c. thou must take it up in a bottomless sack, whilst every grove &c. and bear it to the mill on a butterfly's back. and thou shalt &c. and when these works are finished and done whilst every grove &c. i'll take and marry thee under the sun. and thou shalt &c. [footnote : all the second part may be omitted.] no. lullaby h.f.s. [music] sleep, baby sleep! dad is not nigh, tossed on the deep, lul-lul-a-by! moon shining bright, dropping of dew. owls hoot all night to-whit! to-whoo! sleep, baby sleep! dad is away, tossed on the deep, looking for day. in the hedge row glow-worms alight, rivulets flow, all through the night. sleep, baby sleep! dad is afar, tossed on the deep, watching a star. clock going--tick, tack--in the dark. on the hearth-brick, dies the last spark. sleep, baby sleep! what! not a wink! dad on the deep, what will he think? baby dear, soon daddy will come, bringing red shoon for baby at home. no. the gipsy countess part i. c.j.s. [music] there came an earl a riding by, a gipsy maid espyed he; "o nut-brown maid, from green-wood glade, o prithee come along with me." "in green-wood glade, fair sir!" she said, "i am so blythe, as bird so gay. in thy castle tall, in bower and hall, i fear for grief i'd pine away." "thou shalt no more be set in stocks, and tramp about from town to town, but thou shalt ride in pomp and pride in velvet red and broidered gown." "my brothers three no more i'd see, if that i went with thee, i trow. they sing me to sleep, with songs so sweet, they sing as on our way we go." "thou shalt not be torn by thistle and thorn, with thy bare feet all in the dew. but shoes shall wear of spanish leather and silken stockings all of blue." "i will not go to thy castle high, for thou wilt weary soon, i know, of the gipsy maid, from green-wood glade, and drive her forth in rain and snow." "all night you lie neath the starry sky in rain and snow you trudge all day, but thy brown head, in a feather bed, when left the gipsies, thou shalt lay." "i love to lie 'neath the starry sky, i do not heed the snow and rain, but fickle as wind, i fear to find the man who now my heart would gain." "i will thee wed, sweet maid," he said, "i will thee wed with a golden ring, thy days shall be spent in merriment; for us the marriage bells shall swing." the dog did howl, and screech'd the owl, the raven croaked, the night-wind sighed; the wedding bell from the steeple fell, as home the earl did bear his bride. no. the gipsy countess part ii. c.j.s. [music] three gipsies stood at the castle gate, they sang so high, they sang so low, the lady sate in her chamber late, her heart it melted away as snow, away as snow, her heart it melted away as snow. they sang so sweet; they sang so shrill, that fast her tears began to flow. and she laid down her silken gown, her golden rings, and all her show, all her show &c. [ ] she plucked off her high-heeled shoes, a-made of spanish leather, o. she would in the street; with her bare, bare feet; all out in the wind and weather, o. weather, o! &c. she took in hand but a one posie, the wildest flowers that do grow. and down the stair went the lady fair, to go away with the gipsies, o! the gipsies, o! &c. at past midnight her lord came home, and where his lady was would know; the servants replied on every side, she's gone away with the gipsies, o! the gipsies, o! &c. [ ] then he rode high, and he rode low, and over hill and vale, i trow, until he espied his fair young bride, who'd gone away with the gipsies, o! the gipsies, o! &c. [ ] o will you leave your house and lands, your golden treasures for to go, away from your lord that weareth a sword, to follow along with the gipsies, o! the gipsies, o! &c. o i will leave my house and lands, my golden treasures for to go, i love not my lord that weareth a sword, i'll follow along with the gipsies, o! the gipsies, o! &c. 'nay, thou shalt not!' then he drew, i wot, the sword that hung at his saddle bow, and once he smote on her lily-white throat, and there her red blood down did flow down did flow, &c. then dipp'd in blood was the posie good, that was of the wildest flowers that blow. she sank on her side, and so she died, for she would away with the gipsies, o! the gipsies, o! for she would away with the gipsies o! [footnote : in singing, these may be omitted.] [footnote : in singing, these may be omitted.] [footnote : in singing, these may be omitted.] no. the grey mare c.j.s. [music] young roger, the miller, went courting of late a farmer's sweet daughter called beautiful kate; now kitty was buxom, and bonny and fair, had plenty of humour, of frolic a share, and her father possessed an uncommon grey mare, a grey mare, a grey mare, an uncommon grey mare. so roger he dressed himself up as a beau, he comb'd down his locks, and in collars of snow, he went to the farmer, and said, "how d'y do? i love pretty kitty, to her i'll prove true; will you give me the grey mare and katherine too, the grey mare, the grey mare &c. "she's a very nice maiden, a-courting i'm come. lawks! how i would like the grey mare to ride home! i love your sweet daughter so much i declare, i'm ready my mill--and my stable--to share, with kitty the charming, and with the grey mare, the grey mare, the grey mare &c." "you're welcome to her, to her hand and her heart, but from the grey mare, man, i never will part." so said the old farmer,--then roger, "i swear, it is up with my courting, for kate i don't care, unless i be given as well the grey mare. the grey mare, the grey mare &c." the years had pass'd swiftly, when withered and grey, old roger, the miller, met katherine one day, said he, "i remember you, buxom and fair, as roses your cheeks and as broom was your hair and i came a courting!--ah, kate! the grey mare, the grey mare, the grey mare &c." "i remember your coming to court the grey mare very well, mr. roger, when golden my hair, and cheeks were as roses that bloom on the wall. but, lawks! mr. roger,--i can not recall that e'er you came sweet-hearting _me_, man, at all, but the mare, the grey mare that uncommon grey mare." no. the wreck off scilly h.f.s. [music] come all you brisk young sailors bold that plough the raging main, a tragedy i will unfold in story sad and plain. from my true love 'twas pressed was i the gallant ship to steer to indies west,--each heart beat high with confidence and cheer. a year was gone, and home at last, we turn'd with swelling sail, when--'ere the scilly over-passed there broke on us a gale. the boatswain up aloft did go. he went aloft so high. more angry did the ocean grow, more menacing the sky. to make the stripe in vain we tried the scilly rocks to clear, the thunder of the furious tide was filling every ear. there came a sharp and sudden shock,-- each thought of wife and home! the gallant ship was on a rock, and swept with wave and foam. of eighty seamen 'prised the crew, but one did reach the shore, the gallant vessel, good and true, was shattered aft and fore. the news to plymouth swift did fly, that our good ship was gone; and wet with tears was many an eye, and many a widow lone. and when i came to plymouth sound alive, of eighty dead, my pretty love, then false i found and to a landsman wed. o gentles all that live on land be-think the boys at sea, lo! here i stand with cap in hand, and crave your charity. no. henry martyn c.j.s. [music] in merry scotland, in merry scotland, there lived brothers three, they all did cast lots which of them should go, a robbing upon the salt sea. the lot it fell upon henry martyn, the youngest of the three, that he should go rob on the salt, salt sea, to maintain his brothers and he. he had not a sailed a long winter's night, nor yet a short winter's day, before he espied the king's gallant ship, come sailing along that way. how far, how far, cried henry martyn, how far are you going? said he for i am a robber upon the salt seas, to maintain my brothers and me. stand off, stand off! the captain he cried, the lifeguards they are aboard. my cannons are loaden with powder and shot; and every man hath a sword. for three long hours they merrily fought, for hours they fought full three. and many a blow it dealt many a wound, as they fought on the salt, salt sea. twas broadside against a broadside then, and at it, the which should win, a shot in the gallant ship bored a hole, and then did the water rush in. bad news! bad news, for old england bad news has come to the town, the king his vessel is wrecked and lost, an all his brave soldiers drown. bad news! bad news through the london street! bad news has come to the king, the lives of his guard they be all a lost, o the tidings be sad that i bring. o had i a twisted rope of hemp, a bowstring strong though thin; i'd soon hang him up to his middle yard arm, and have done with henry martyn. no. plymouth sound h.f.s. [music] o the fair town of plymouth is by the sea-side, the sound is so blue, and so still and so wide, encircled with hills and with forests all green, as a crown of fresh leaves on the head of a queen, o dear plymouth town, and o blue plymouth sound! o where is your equal on earth to be found. o the maidens of plymouth are comely and sweet, so mirthful of eye and so nimble of feet, i love all the lasses of plymouth so well, that the which i love best not a prophet can tell. o dear plymouth town, &c. o the bells of old plymouth float over the bay, my heart it does melt, as i'm sailing away. o be they a ringing when i do return, with thoughts matrimonial my bosom will burn. o dear plymouth town, &c. for the maidens of plymouth my love is so hot, with a bushel of rings i would marry the lot. but as i can't marry them all, well-a-day! perhaps it's as well that i'm sailing away. o dear plymouth town, &c. no. the fox c.j.s. [music] the fox went out one winter night, and prayed the moon to give him light, for he'd many a mile to go that night, before he reached his den, o! den, o! den, o! for he'd many a mile to go that night, for he'd many a mile to go that night, before he reached his den, o! at last he came to a farmer's yard, where ducks and geese were all afear'd, "the best of you all shall grease my beard, before i leave the town o! town, o! town, o! the best of you all &c." he took the grey goose by the neck, he laid a duck across his back, and heeded not their quack! quack! quack! the legs of all dangling down, o! down, o! down, o! and heeded not &c. then old mother slipper slopper jump'd out of bed and out of the window she pop't her head, crying "oh! john, john! the grey goose is dead, and the fox is over the down, o!" down, o! down, o! crying "o john, john &c." then john got up to the top o' the hill, and blew his horn both loud and shrill, "blow on" said reynard, "your music still, whilst i trot home to my den, o!" den, o! den, o! "blow on" said reynard &c. at last he came to his cosy den, where sat his young ones, nine or ten. quoth they, "daddy, you must go there again, for sure, 'tis a lucky town, o!" town, o! town, o! quoth they, "daddy, &c." the fox and wife without any strife, they cut up the goose without fork or knife, and said 'twas the best they had eat in their life, and the young ones pick'd the bones, o! bones, o! bones, o! and said 'twas the best, &c. no. furze bloom h.f.s. [music] there's not a cloud a sailing by, that does not hold a shower; there's not a furze-bush on the moor, that doth not put forth flower. about the roots we need not delve, the branches need not prune, the yellow furze will ever flower, and ever love's in tune! when the furze is out of flower, then love is out of tune. there's not a season of the year, nor weather hot nor cold, in windy spring, in watery fall, but furze is clad in gold. it blossoms in the falling snow, it blazes bright in june, and love, like it, is always here, and ever opportune. when the furze is out of flower, then love is out of tune. [ ] there's not a saucy lad i wot, with light and roguish eye, that doth not love a pretty lass, and kiss her on the sly, there's not a maiden in the shire from hartland point to brent, in velvet, or in cotton gown, that will his love resent. when the furze is out of flower, then love is out of tune. beside the fire with toasted crabs, we sit and love is there, in merry spring, with apple flowers, it flutters in the air. at harvest when we toss the sheaves, then love with them is toss't. at fall when nipp'd and sere the leaves, unnipp't is love by frost. when the furze is out of flower, then love is out of tune. [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] no. the oxen ploughing h.f.s. [music] prithee lend your jocund voices, for to listen we're agreed: come sing of songs the choicest, of the life the ploughboys lead. there are none that live so merry as the ploughboy does in spring when he hears the sweet birds whistle and the nightingales to sing. with my hump-a-long! jump-a-long! here drives my lad along! pretty, sparkle, berry good-luck, speedwell, cherry! we are the lads that can follow the plough. for it's, o my little ploughboy come awaken in the morn, when the cock upon the dunghill is a-blowing of his horn. soon the sun above brown willy,[ ] with his golden face will show; therefore hasten to the linney yoke the oxen to the plough. with my hump-a-long! &c. in the heat of the daytime it's but little we can do. we will lie beside our oxen for an hour, or for two. on the banks of sweet violets, i'll take my noontide rest, and it's i can kiss a pretty girl as hearty as the best. with my hump a long! &c. when the sun at eve is setting and the shadows fill the vale, then our throttles we'll be wetting, with the farmer's humming ale. and the oxen home returning we will send into the stall. where the logs and turf are burning, we'll be merry ploughboys all. with my hump a long! &c. o the farmer must have seed, sirs, or i swear he cannot sow. and the miller with his mill wheel is an idle man also. and the huntsman gives up hunting, and the tradesman stands aside, and the poor man bread is wanting, so 'tis we for all provide. with my hump a long! &c. [footnote : or any other suitable hill.] no. flora, the lily of the west c.j.s. [music: in d minor] 'twas when i came to england, some pleasures for to find, there i espied a damsel most pleasing to my mind; her rosy cheeks and shining eyes as arrows pierced my breast, her name was lovely flora, the lily of the west. her golden hair in ringlets hung, her dress was spangled o'er; she'd rings on every finger, brought from a foreign shore; 'twould ruin kings and princes, so richly was she dress'd, she far excelleth venus, this lily of the west. i courted her a fortnight, in hopes her love to gain, but soon she turn'd against me, which caused all my pain. she robb'd me of my freedom, she robb'd me of my rest, i roam, forsook of flora, the lily of the west. alas! where'er i wander, however much i will, the thought of that fair maiden abideth with me still; for ever i am downcast, for ever sore oppress'd, an outcast e'er from flora, the lily of the west. no. flora, the lily of the west c.j.s. [music: in g major] 'twas when i came to england, some pleasure for to find, there i espied a damsel most pleasing to my mind; her rosy cheeks and shining eyes as arrows pierced my breast, her name was lovely flora, the lily of the west. her golden hair in ringlets hung, her dress was spangled o'er; she'd rings on every finger, brought from a foreign shore; 'twould ruin kings and princes, so richly was she dress'd, she far excelleth venus, this lily of the west. i courted her a fortnight, in hopes her love to gain, but soon she turn'd against me, which caused all my pain. she robb'd me of my freedom, she robb'd me of my rest, i roam, forsook of flora, the lily of the west. alas! where'er i wander, however much i will the thought of that fair maiden abideth with me still; for ever i am downcast, for ever am oppress'd, an outcast e'er from flora, the lily of the west. no. the simple ploughboy c.j.s. [music] o the ploughboy was a ploughing with his horses on the plain, and was singing of a song as on went he. "since that i have fall'n in love, if the parents disapprove, 'tis the first thing that will send me to the sea." when the parents came to know that their daughter loved him so, then they sent a gang, and pressed him for the sea. and they made of him a tar, to be slain in cruel war; of the simple ploughboy singing on the lea. the maiden sore did grieve, and without a word of leave, from her father's house she fled secretlie, in male attire dress'd, with a star upon her breast, all to seek her simple ploughboy on the sea. then she went o'er hill and plain, and she walked in wind and rain, till she came to the brink of the blue sea. saying, "i am forced to rove, for the loss of my true love, who is but a simple ploughboy from the lea." [ ] now the first she did behold, o it was a sailor bold, "have you seen my simple ploughboy?" then said she. "they have press'd him to the fleet, sent him tossing on the deep, who is but a simple ploughboy from the lea." then she went to the captain, and to him she made complain, "o a silly ploughboy's run away from me!" then the captain smiled and said, "why sir! surely you're a maid! so the ploughboy i will render up to thee." then she pullèd out a store, of five hundred crowns and more, and she strewed them on the deck, did she, then she took him by the hand, and she rowed him to the land, where she wed the simple ploughboy back from sea. [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] no. fair lady, pity me c.j.s. [music] dear love, regard my grief, do not my suit disdain; o yield me some relief, that am with sorrows slain. pity my grievous pain long suffer'd for thy sake, do not my suit disdain no time i rest can take. these seven long years and more still have i loved thee; do thou my joys restore fair lady, pity me. while that i live i love so fancy urgeth me; my mind can not remove such is my constancy. my mind is nobly bent tho' i'm of low degree; sweet lady, give consent to love and pity me. these seven long years and more still have i loved thee; do thou my joys restore fair lady, pity me. no. the painful plough h.f.s. [music] o adam was a ploughboy, when ploughing first begun, the next that did succeed him was cain, his eldest son; some of the generation the calling still pursue, that bread may not be wanting, they labour at the plough. samson was the strongest man, and solomon was wise, and alexander conquering, he made the world his prize, king david was a valiant man, and many thousands slew, yet none of all these heroes bold could live without the plough. behold the wealthy merchant, that trades on foreign seas, and brings home gold and treasure, for such as live at ease, with spices and with cinnamon, and oranges also, they're brought us from the indies, by virtue of the plough. i hope there's none offended at me for singing this, for never i intended to sing you ought amiss. and if you well consider, you'll find the saying true, that all mankind dependeth upon the painful plough. no. at the setting of the sun c.j.s. [music] come all you young fellows that carry a gun, beware of late shooting when daylight is done; for 'tis little you reckon what hazards you run, i shot my true love at the setting of the sun in a shower of rain as my darling did hie all under the bushes to keep herself dry, with her head in her apron i thought her a swan, and i shot my true love at the setting of the sun. i'll fly from my country, i nowhere find rest i've shot my true love, like a bird in her nest. like lead on my heart lies the deed i have done, i shot my true love at the setting of the sun. in a shower, etc. in the night the fair maid as a white swan appears, she says, o my true love, quick dry up your tears, i freely forgive you, i have paradise won, i was shot by my love at the setting of the sun. in a shower, etc. o the years as they pass leave me lonely and sad, i can ne'er love another, and naught makes me glad. i wait and expect till life's little span done i meet my true love at the rising of the sun in a shower, etc. no. jolly fellows that follow the plough c.j.s. [music] 'twas early one morning at breaking of day, the cocks were a crowing, the farmer did say, come, arise, my good fellows, arise with good will, for your horses want something their bellies to fill. with rubbing and scrubbing, i swear and i vow, that we're all jolly fellows that follow the plough. we jump'd out of bed and slipp'd into our clothes, away to the stable each merrily goes. when six o'clock cometh, to breakfast we go, to good bread and cheese and the best of stingo. with rubbing and scrubbing, i swear and i vow, that we're all jolly fellows that follow the plough. when seven o'clock soundeth to work we do go, we hitch up our horses and halloo wee woo! at eight o' clock, lads, we are merry and bold, to see of us which the best furrow can hold. with rubbing and scrubbing, i swear and i vow, that we're all jolly fellows that follow the plough. the farmer came to us, and thus did he say, "what have you been doing lads, all the long day? you've not ploughed your acre, i swear and i vow, you are all lazy fellows that follow the plough." with rubbing and scrubbing, i swear and i vow, that we're all jolly fellows that follow the plough. the carter turns round with a twinkling eye, "we have all ploughed our acre, i tell you no lie, we have all ploughed our acre, i swear and i vow, so we're the right fellows that follow the plough." with rubbing and scrubbing, i swear and i vow, that we're all jolly fellows that follow the plough. the farmer he laughed for he lovèd a joke "it is past two o'clock, boys, 'tis time to unyoke. unharness your horses and rub them down well, and so i will give you a jug of brown ale." with rubbing and scrubbing, i swear and i vow, that we're all jolly fellows that follow the plough. so, all my fine fellows, wherever you be, come take my advice and be rulèd by me. draw your furrows aright; plough your acre and know that such are the fellows to follow the plough. with rubbing and scrubbing, i swear and i vow, that we're all jolly fellows that follow the plough. no. the golden vanity c.j.s. [music] a ship i have got in the north country and she goes by the name of the golden vanity, o i fear she'll be taken by a spanish ga-la-lie, as she sails by the low-lands low. to the captain then upspake the little cabin-boy, he said, what is my fee, if the galley i destroy? the spanish ga-la-lie, if no more it shall annoy, as you sail by the low-lands low. of silver and gold i will give to you a store; and my pretty little daughter that dwelleth on the shore, of treasure and of fee as well, i'll give to thee galore, as we sail by the low-lands low. then the boy bared his breast, and straightway leaped in, and he held all in his hand, an augur sharp and thin, and he swam until he came to the spanish galleon, as she lay by the low-lands low. he bored with the augur, he bored once and twice, and some were playing cards, and some were playing dice, when the water flowed in it dazzled their eyes, and she sank by the low-lands low. [ ] so the cabin-boy did swim all to the larboard side, saying captain! take me in, i am drifting with the tide! i will shoot you! i will kill you! the cruel captain cried, you may sink by the low-lands low. then the cabin-boy did swim all to the starboard side saying, messmates take me in, i am drifting with the tide! then they laid him on the deck, and he closed his eyes and died, as they sailed by the low-lands low. [ ] they sewed his body up, all in an old cow's hide, and they cast the gallant cabin-boy, over the ship's side, and left him without more ado adrifting with the tide, and to sink by the low-lands low. [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] no. the bold dragoon h.f.s. [music] a bold dragoon from out of the north, to a lady's house came riding; with clank of steel, and spur at his heel, his consequence noways hiding. "bring forth good cheer, tap claret and beer, for here i think of abiding, abiding, abiding. "the chamber best with arras be dress'd i intend to be comfortable. such troopers as we always make ourselves free, heigh!--lead my horse to the stable! give him corn and hay, but for me tockay, we'll eat and drink whilst able, able, aye! able. "the daintiest meat upon silver plate, and wine that sparkles and fizzes. wax candles light, make the chamber bright, and--as soldiers love sweet misses, my moustache i curl with an extra twirl, the better to give you kisses, kisses, aye! kisses." "there's cake and wine," said the lady fine, "there's oats for the horse, and litter. there's silver plate, there are servants to wait, and drinks, sweet, sparkling, bitter. tho, bacon and pease, aye! and mouldy cheese, for such as you were fitter, fitter aye! fitter. "your distance keep, i esteem you cheap tho' your wishes i've granted, partly. but no kisses for me from a chimpanzee," the lady responded tartly. "why! a rude dragoon is a mere baboon." and she boxed his ears full smartly, smartly, aye! smartly. no. trinity sunday h.f.s. [music] when bites the frost and winds are a blowing, i do not heed, i do not care; if johnny's by me, what if it be snowing. 'tis summer time with me all the year. the icicles they may hang on the fountain, and frozen over the farm yard pool. the bleak wind whistle across the mountain, no wintry blast our love can cool. o what to me the wind and the weather? o what to me the wind and the rain? my johnny loves me, and being together, why let it bluster--it blows in vain. i never tire, i never am weary, i drudge and think it is only play; as johnny loves me, and i am his deary, why--all the year it is holiday. i shall be wed upon trinity sunday, and then adieu to my holiday. come frost and frown the following monday. why then beginneth my workaday. if drudge and smudge begins on the monday, if scold and grumble--i do not care, my winter follow trinity sunday. i can't have summertime all the year. no. the blue flame c.j.s. [music] all under the stars, and beneath the green tree, all over the sward, and along the cold lea, a little blue flame a fluttering came, it came from the churchyard for you or for me. i sit by the cradle, my baby's asleep, and rocking the cradle, i wonder and weep. o little blue light, in the dead of the night, o prithee, o prithee no nearer to creep. why follow the church path, why steal you this way? why halt in your journey, on threshold why stay? with flicker and flare, why dance up my stair! o i would, o i would, it were dawning of day. all under the stars, and along the green lane, unslaked by the dew, and unquenched by the rain, of little flames blue to the churchyard steal two, the soul of my baby! now from me is ta'en. no. strawberry fair h.f.s. [music] as i was going to strawberry fair, singing, singing, butter-cups and daisies i met a maiden taking her ware, fol-de-dee! her eyes were blue and golden her hair, as she went on to strawberry fair, ri-fol, ri-fol, tol-de-riddle-li-do, ri-fol, ri-fol, tol-de-riddle-dee. "kind sir, pray pick of my basket!" she said, singing, &c. "my cherries ripe, or my roses red, fol-de-dee! my strawberries sweet, i can of them spare, as i go on to strawberry fair." ri-fol &c. your cherries soon will be wasted away, singing, &c. your roses wither and never stay, tol-de-dee! 'tis not to seek such perishing ware, that i am tramping to strawberry fair. ri-fol &c. i want to purchase a generous heart, singing, &c. a tongue that neither is nimble nor tart. tol-de-dee! an honest mind, but such trifles are rare i doubt if they're found at strawberry fair. ri-fol &c. the price i offer, my sweet pretty maid singing, &c. a ring of gold on your finger displayed, tol-de-dee! so come make over to me your ware, in church today at strawberry fair. ri-fol &c. no. the country farmer's son h.f.s. [music] i would not be a monarch great; with crown upon my head, and earls to wait upon my state, in broidered robes of red. for he must bear full many a care, his toil is never done, 'tis better i trow behind the plough, a country farmer's son. [ ] i would not be the pope of rome, and sit in peter's chair; with priests to bow and kiss my toe, no wife my throne to share. and never know what 'tis to go, with beagles for a run; 'tis better for me at liberty a country farmer's son. i would not be a merchant rich, and eat off silver plate. and ever dread, when laid abed some freakish turn of fate. one day on high, then ruin nigh, now wealthy, now undone, 'tis better for me at ease to be a country farmer's son. i trudge about the farm, all day, to know that all things thrive. a maid i see that pleaseth me, why then i'm fain to wive. not over rich, i do not itch, for wealth, but what is won, by honest toil, from out the soil, a country farmer's son. [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] no. the hostess' daughter h.f.s. [music] the hostess of the ring of bells a daughter hath with auburn hair; go where i will, o'er plain and hill, i do not find a maid more fair; she welcomes me with dimpled smiles, and e'en a kiss will not deny o! would for us the bells did ring! and we were wed--that maid and i! but as i travelled down the road, there went by me a packer-train; 'twas roger rawle, and sandy paul, and hunchback joe, and philip mayne. says roger, i have had a kiss, from that sly maiden at the bell, and i, said joe, and paul said so, and so did philip mayne as well. till weather-beaten as the sign that doth before the tavern swing, that maid will stay, and none essay, to make her his with bell and ring. methinks i'll take another road, where hap some modest maiden dwells, no saucy miss, with ready kiss, and then for us shall ring the bells. no. the jolly goss-hawk h.f.s. [music] i sat on a bank in trifle and play, with my jolly goss-hawk, and her wings were grey; she flew to my breast, and she there built her nest, i am sure pretty bird you with me will stay. she builded within, and she builded without, my jolly goss-hawk, and her wings were grey; she fluttered her wings, and she jingled her rings, so merry was she, and so fond of play. i got me a bell, to tie to her foot, my jolly goss-hawk, and her wings were grey; she mounted in flight, and she flew out of sight, my bell and my rings she carried away. i ran up the street, with nimblest feet, my jolly goss-hawk, and her wings were grey; i whooped and hallo'd, but never she shewed, and i lost my pretty goss-hawk that day. in a meadow so green, the hedges between, my jolly goss-hawk, and her wings were grey; upon a man's hand, she perch'd did stand, in sport, and trifle, and full array. who's got her may keep her as best he can, my jolly goss-hawk, and her wings were grey; to every man she is frolic and free, i'll cast her off if she come my way. no. the song of the moor c.j.s. [music] 'tis merry in the spring-time 'tis blithe upon the moor, where every man is equal, for every man is poor. i do what i've a mind to, and none can say me nay, i go where i'm inclin'd to, on all sides right of way. o the merry dartamoor! o the merry moor! i would not be where i'm not free, as i am upon the moor. 'tis merry in the summer, when furze is out and sweet, the bees about it humming, in honey bathe their feet. the plover and the peewit how cheerily they pipe, and underfoot the whortle is waxing blue and ripe. o the merry &c. 'tis merry in the fall-time when snipe and cock appear, and never see a keeper to say, no shooting here! the turf we stock for fuel and ask no better fire, and never pay a farthing, for all that we require. o the merry &c. 'tis merry in the winter the wind is on the moor, for twenty miles to leeward the people hear the roar. 'tis merry in the ingle beside a moorland lass, when watching turves a-glowing, the brimming bumpers pass. o the merry &c. no. on a may morning so early c.j.s. [music] as i walked out one may morning, one may morning so early; i there espied a fair pretty maid, all on the dew so pearly. o! 'twas sweet, sweet spring, merry birds did sing, all in the morning early. stay, fair one, stay! thus did i say, on a may morning so early; my tale of love, your heart will move, all on the dew so pearly. o! 'tis sweet, sweet spring, merry birds do sing, all in the morning early. no tales for me, kind sir, said she on a may morning so early; my swain is true, i don't want two all on the dew so pearly. o! 'twas sweet, sweet spring, merry birds did sing, all in the morning early. with lightsome tread, away she sped, this may morning so early; to meet her lad, and left me sad, all on the dew so pearly. o! 'twas sweet, sweet spring, merry birds did sing, all in the morning early. no. the spotted cow h.f.s. [music] one morning so gay, in the glad month of may, when i from my cottage strayed; as broke the ray of awakening day, i met a pretty maid. a neat little lass on the twinkling grass, to see, my foot i stayed. "my fair pretty maid, why wander?" i said, "so early, tell me now?" the maid replied, "pretty sir!" and sighed, "i've lost my spotted cow. she's stolen," she said, many tears she shed, "or lost, i can't tell how." "no further complain in dolorous strain, i've tidings will you cheer. i know she's strayed, in yonder green glade, come, love! i'll shew you where. so dry up your tears and banish fears, and bid begone despair." "i truly confess in my bitter distress, you are most good," said she. "with help so kind, i am certain to find my cow, so i'll with thee. four eyes, it is true, are better than two, and friend, four eyes have we." through meadow and grove, we together did rove, we crossed the flow'ry dale, both morn and noon, we strayed till the moon above our heads did sail. the old spotted cow, clean forgotten was now, for love was all our tale. now never a day, do i go my way, to handle flail or plough. she comes again, and whispers, "sweet swain, i've lost my spotted cow." i pretend not to hear, she shouts, "my dear, i've lost my spotted cow." no. three jovial welshmen c.j.s. [music] there were three jovial welshmen they would go hunt the fox. they swore they saw old reynard run over yonder rocks; with a whoop, whoop, whoop and a hel-lo, and a blast of my bugle horn; with my twank, twank, twank and my twank-i-diddle o, and thro' the woods we'll ride, brave boys, and thro' the woods we'll ride. with my bugle, bugle, bugle, and a blast of my bugle horn; with my fal-lal-lal and my fal-de-riddle o, and thro' the woods we'll ride, brave boys, and thro' the woods we'll ride. the first they espied was a woman, a combing up her locks. she swore she saw old reynard among the geese and ducks. with a &c. the second he was a parson, and he was dressed in black, he swore he saw old reynard hang on a huntsman's back. with a &c. the third he was a miller was grinding at his mill, he swore he saw old reynard run over yonder hill. with a &c. the fourth he was a blind man, as blind as blind could be, he swore he saw old reynard run up a hollow tree. with a &c. there never was a reynard run out that day at all, 'twas naught but one grey pussy sat purring on a wall. with a &c. o what a world of liars this is, as well appears. henceforth i'll trust my own eyes, and none but mine own ears. with a &c. no. well met! well met c.j.s. [music] well met, well met, my own true love! long time am i seeking of thee. i am lately come from the salt, salt wave, and all for the sake, sweet love, of thee. i might have had a king's daughter, she fain would have married me, but i did not hold for her crown of gold, and all for the sake, sweet love, of thee. i have seven ships that sail on the sea, it was one brought me to the land; i have mariners many to wait on thee to be all, sweet love, at thy command. a pair of slippers, love, thou shalt have, they are made of the beaten gold, they are lined within with a coney's skin, to keep thy feet, sweet love, from cold. a gilded boat thou too shalt have, and the oars be gilded also, and the mariners they shall pipe and sing as through the salt waves, sweet love, we go. a way of gold lies over the sea where the sun doth set in the west. and along that way thou shalt sail with me, to the land of lands, sweet love, that's best. no. poor old horse c.j.s. [music] o once i lay in stable, a hunter, well and warm, i had the best of shelter, from cold and rain and harm; but now in open meadow, a hedge i'm glad to find, to shield my sides from tempest, from driving sleet and wind. poor old horse, let him die! my shoulders once were sturdy, were glossy, smooth and round, but now, alas! they're rotten, i'm not accounted sound. as i have grown so aged, my teeth gone to decay, my master frowns upon me; i often hear him say, poor old horse, let him die! [ ] a groom upon me waited, on straw i snugly lay, when fields were full of flowers, the air was sweet with hay; but now there's no good feeding prepared for me at all, i'm forced to munch the nettles upon the kennel wall. poor old horse, let him die! my shoes and skin, the huntsman, that covets them shall have, my flesh and bones the hounds, sir! i very freely give, i've followed them full often, aye! many a score of miles, o'er hedges, walls and ditches, nor blinked at gates and stiles. poor old horse, let him die! ye gentlemen of england, ye sportsmen good and bold, all you that love a hunter, remember him when old, o put him in your stable, and make the old boy warm, and visit him and pat him, and keep him out of harm, poor old horse, till he die! [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] no. the dilly song c.j.s. [music] come, and i will sing you. what will you sing me? i will sing you one, o! what is your one, o? one of them is all alone, and ever will remain so. come, and i will sing you. what will you sing me? i will sing you two, o! what is your two, o? two of them are lily-white babes, and dress'd all in green, o. come, &c. i will sing you three, o! what is your three, o? three of them are strangers, o'er the wide world they are rangers. come, &c. i will sing you four, o! what is your four, o? four it is the dilly hour, when blooms the gilly flower. come, &c. i will sing you five, o! what is your five, o? five it is the dilly bird, that's never seen, but heard, o! come, &c. i will sing you six, o! what is your six, o? six the ferryman in the boat, that doth on the river float, o! come, &c. i will sing you seven, o! what is your seven, o? seven it is the crown of heaven, the shining stars be seven, o! come, &c. i will sing you eight, o! what is your eight, o? eight it is the morning break, when all the world's awake, o! come, &c. i will sing you nine, o! what is your nine, o? nine it is the pale moonshine, the pale moonlight is nine, o! come, &c. i will sing you ten, o! what is your ten, o? ten forbids all kind of sin, from ten again begin, o! no. a country dance c.j.s. [music] when lambkins skip, and apples are growing, grass is green, and roses ablow, when pigeons coo, and cattle are lowing, mist lies white in valleys below, why should we be all the day toiling? lads and lasses, along with me! done with drudgery, dust and moiling haste away to the green-wood tree. the cows are milked, the team's in the stable, work is over, and play begun, ye farmer lads all lusty and able, ere the moon rises, we'll have our fun, why should we, &c. [ ] the glow-worm lights, as day is afailing, dew is falling over the field, the meadow-sweet its scent is exhaling, honeysuckles their fragrance yield. why should we, &c. there's jack o'lantern lustily dancing in the marsh with flickering flame, and daddy-long-legs, spinning and prancing, moth and midge are doing the same, why should we, &c. so bet and prue, and dolly and celie, with milking pail 'tis time to have done. and ralph and phil, and robin and willie, the threshing flail must sleep with the sun. why should we, &c. upon the green beginneth our pleasure, whilst we dance we merrily sing. a country dance, a jig, and a measure, hand in hand we go in a ring. why should we, &c. o sweet it is to foot on the clover, ended work and revel begun. aloft the planets never give over, dancing, circling round of the sun. why should we, &c. so ralph and phil, and robin and willie, take your partners each of you now. and bet and prue, and dolly and celie, make a curtsey; lads! make a bow. why should we, &c. [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] no. constant johnny c.j.s. [music] charming molly, i do love thee, there's none other i adore; pierced by your beauteous eyes, my heart transfixed lies, say, dearest molly, you'll be mine for evermore. constant johnny, i reject thee, i thy fruitless suit deplore, your love i do decline, i will be no love of thine no, johnny, constant johnny, ne'er i'll see thee more. canst thou see young johnny bleeding down in cupid's rosy bower, see his transfixed heart, full of grief and full of smart, say, dearest molly, thou'lt be mine for evermore. now the lovers are united, fast in wedlock's chains secure, happy as the livelong day, often she to him doth say, o! johnny, dearest johnny, now we part no more. no. the duke's hunt c.j.s. [music] all in a morning very fair as i rode out to take the air i heard some to halloo clearly. there rode the duke of buckingham, and many a squire and yeoman came, dull sleep they had banished so early. there was dido, spendigo gentry too, and hero, and traveller that never looks behind him countess and towler, bonny-lass and jowler, were some of the hounds that did find him. old jack he courses o'er the plain, unwearied tries it back again, his horse and his hounds fail never. our hearty huntsman he will say, for ever and for e'er a day, hark! forward! gallant hounds together. there was dido, &c. the fox we followed, being young, our sport today is scarce begun, ere out of the cover breaking, away he runs o'er hill and dale, away we followed without fail. hark! forward! sleeping echoes awaking! there was dido, &c. shy reynard being well nigh spent, his way he to the water bent, and speedily crossed the river. to save his life he sought to swim, but dido sharp went after him, heigh! traveller destroyed his life for ever. there was dido, &c. so, whoo-too-hoo! we did proclaim god bless the duke of buckingham, our hounds they have gained great glory. this maketh now the twentieth fox, we've killed in river, dale and rocks, so here's an end to my story. there was dido, &c. no. the bell ringing h.f.s. [music] one day in october, neither drunken nor sober, o'er broadbury down i was wending my way. when i heard of some ringing, some dancing and singing, i ought to remember that jubilee day. _refrain_ 'twas in ashwater town, the bells they did soun' they rang for a belt and a hat laced with gold. but the men of north lew rang so steady and true, that never were better in devon, i hold. 'twas misunderstood, for the men of broadwood, gave a blow on the tenor should never have been. but the men of north lew, rang so faultlessly true, a difficult matter to beat them i ween. 'twas in ashwater town &c. they of broadwood being naughty then said to our party, we'll ring you a challenge again in a round, we'll give you the chance, at st. stephen's or launce- -ston the prize to the winner's a note of five pound. 'twas in callington town the bells next did soun' they rang, &c. when the match it came on, at good callington, the bells they rang out o'er the valleys below. then old and young people, the hale and the feeble, they came out to hear the sweet bell music flow. 'twas at callington town the bells then did soun' they rang, &c. those of broadwood once more, were obliged to give o'er, they were beaten completely and done in a round. for the men of north lew pull so steady and true, that no better then they in the west can be found. 'twas at ashwater town then at callington town they rang, &c. no. a nutting we will go h.f.s. [music] 'tis of a jolly ploughing-man, was ploughing of his land, he called, ho! he called, wo! and bade his horses stand. upon his plough he sat, i trow, and loud began to sing, his voice rang out, so clear and stout, it made the horse bells ring. for a nutting we will go, my boys, a nutting we will go, from hazel bush, loud sings the thrush, a nutting we will go! a maiden sly was passing by with basket on her arm, she stood to hear his singing clear, to listen was no harm. the ploughboy stayed that pretty maid, and clasped her middle small, he kissed her twice, he kissed her thrice ere she could cry or call. for a nutting &c. now all you pretty maidens that go nutting o'er the grass attend my rede, and give good heed, of ploughboys that you pass. when lions roar, on afric's shore, no mortal ventures near, when hoots the owl, and bears do growl, the heart is full of fear. for a nutting &c. and yet, 'tis said, to pretty maid, there is a graver thing, in any clime, at any time,-- a ploughboy that doth sing. so all you maidens, young and fair take lesson from my lay, when you do hear a ploughman sing, then lightly run away. for a nutting &c. no. down by a river side c.j.s. [music] down by a river-side, a fair maid i espied, lamenting for her own true love; lamenting, crying, sighing, dying; dying for her own true love. [music] did you not promise me, that i your wife should be? yet i deserted here must mourn; i who believed, now bereaved, grieved; i who believed, now bereaved, tarry here in tears forlorn. dry up your briny tears, and banish all your fears, for faithful i to you will prove; so now she's singing, clinging, church bells ringing, so now she's singing, church bells ringing, married to her own true love. no. the barley raking c.j.s. [music] 'twas in the prime of summer time, when hay it was a making; and harvest tide was coming on, and barley wanted raking; two woeful lovers met one day, with sighs their sad farewell to say, for john to place must go away, and betty's heart was breaking. lovers oft have proved untrue; 'las! what can poor maidens do? but hardly was her sweet-heart gone, with vows of ne'er forsaking; the foolish wench did so take on, to ease her bosom's aching-- she sent a letter to her love, invoking all the powers above, if he should e'er inconstant prove, to her and the barley raking. lovers oft have proved untrue; 'las! what can poor maidens do? now when this letter reached the youth, it put him in a taking; sure of each other's love and truth, why such a fuss be making? but being a tender hearted swain, from hasty words he did refrain, and wrote to her in gentle strain, to bid her cease from quaking. lovers oft have proved untrue; 'las! what can poor maidens do? "i've got as good a pair of shoes as e'er were made of leather; i'll pull my beaver o'er my nose, and face all wind and weather; and when the year has run its race, i'll seek a new and nearer place; and hope to see your bonnie face at time of the barley raking." lovers oft have proved untrue; 'las! what can poor maidens do? so when the year was past and gone, and hay once more was making; back to his love came faithful john, to find a rude awaking: for betty thought it long to wait, so she had ta'en another mate, and left her first love to his fate, in spite of the barley raking. damsels oft have proved untrue; 'las! what can poor lovers do? no. a ship came sailing h.f.s. [music] a ship came sailing over the sea as deeply laden as she could be; my sorrows fill me to the brim, i care not if i sink or swim. [ ] ten thousand ladies in the room, but my true love's the fairest bloom, of stars she is my brightest sun, i said i would have her or none. i leaned my back against an oak, but first it bent and then it broke, untrusty as i found that tree, so did my love prove false to me. down in a mead the other day, as carelessly i went my way, and plucked flowers red and blue, i little thought what love could do. i saw a rose with ruddy blush, and thrust my hand into the bush, i pricked my fingers to the bone, i would i'd left that rose alone! i wish! i wish! but 'tis in vain, i wish i had my heart again! with silver chain and diamond locks, i'd fasten it in a golden box. [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] no. the rambling sailor h.f.s. [music] i toss my cap up into the air, and away whil'st all are sleeping, the host may swear, and the hostess stare, and the pretty maids be weeping: there is never a place that i do grace, which a second time shall see my face; for i travel the world from place to place, and still am a rambling sailor. o when i come to london town, or enter any city, i settle down at the bell or crown, and court each lass that's pretty. and i say, "my dear, be of good cheer, i'll never depart, you need not fear!" but i traveled the country far and near and still am a rambling sailor. and if that you would know my name, i've any that you fancy, 'tis never the same, as i change my flame, from bet, to joan, or nancy. i court maids all, marry none at all, my heart is round, and rolls as a ball, and i travel the land from spring to fall, and still am a rambling sailor. no. willy coombe c.j.s. [music] 'twas in the month of may, when flowers spring, when pretty lambkins play, and thrushes sing. when young men do resort to walk about in sport not thinking any harm, at crantock games. crantock and newlyn men, all in one room, the first mark that was made, it proved my doom. my name is willy coombe, just twenty, in my bloom; just twenty in my bloom when i was shot. 'twas by a musket ball so swift did fly which pierced my body through, so i must die. my brother swift did ride; to truro town he hied. alas! alack-a-day, my cruel lot! the surgeon said 'twas o'er, none could me cure, bleeding all night, great pains i did endure. coroner and jury true my body well did view. and from this wound i die at crantock games. father, your son is dead, your sorrow bear mother, don't break your heart, o mother dear! sister, don't cry nor grieve, it will not you relieve no warning was i giv'n when i was shot. no. midsummer carol c.j.s. [music] 'twas early i walked on a midsummer morning, the fields and the meadows were deckèd and gay, the small birds were singing, the woodlands a-ringing, 'twas early in the morning, at breaking of day, i will play on my pipes, i will sing thee my lay! it is early in the morning, at breaking of day. o hark! and o hark! to the nightingales wooing, the lark is aloft piping shrill in the air. in every green bower the turtle-doves cooing, the sun is just gleaming, arise up my fair! arise, love, arise! none fairer i spie! arise, love, arise! o why should i die? arise, love, arise! go and get your love posies, the fairest of flowers in garden that grows, go gather me lilies, carnations and roses, i'll wear them with thoughts of the maiden i chose. i stand at thy door, pretty love, full of care, o why should i languish so long in despair? [ ] o why love, o why, should i banished be from thee? o why should i see my own chosen no more? o why look your parents so slightingly on me? it is all for the rough ragged garments i wore, but dress me with flowers, i'm gay as a king, i'm glad as a bird, when my carol i sing. arise, love, arise! in song and in story, to rival thy beauty was never a may, i will play thee a tune on my pipes of ivory, it is early in the morning, at breaking of day, i will play on my pipes, i will sing thee my lay! it is early in the morning, at breaking of day. [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] no. the blackbird in the bush h.f.s. [music] three fair maidens a milking did go, three maidens a milking did go, and the wind it did blow high, and the wind it did blow low, and it tossed their pails to and fro. then they met with a man they did know, o they met with a man they did know, and they said, have you the skill, and they said, have you the will, for to catch us a small bird or two? here's a health to the blackbird in the bush, likewise to the merry wood-do'e (dove). if you'll go along with me unto yonder flow'ring tree, i will catch you a small bird or two. so they went till they stayèd at a bush, so they went till they stayèd at two. and the birds they flew about, pretty birds flew in and out and he caught them by one and by two. so my boys we will drink down the sun, so my boys we will drink down the moon! for we birds are of one feather, and we surely flock together, let the people say little or none. no. the green bed h.f.s. [music] young sailor dick, as he stepped on shore, to his quarters of old return'd, the hostess glad, cries "dick my lad! what prize money have you earn'd?" "poor luck! poor luck! yet molly, my duck, your daughter i've come to see: get ready some supper, with pipes and grog, and the best green bed for me." "my daughter, she's gone out for a walk; my beds are all bespoken; my larder's bare, like the rum-keg there, and my baccy pipes all are broken." says dick, "i'll steer for another berth, i fear i have made too bold: but i'll pay for the beer that i've just drunk here," and he pulled out a hand-ful of gold. "come down molly, quick! here's your sweetheart dick has just come back from sea: he wants his supper, his grog and a bed, the best green bed it must be." "no bed," cries dick, "no supper, no grog, no sweetheart for me i swear! you shewed me the door when you thought me poor, so i'll carry my gold elsewhere." no. the loyal lover c.j.s. [music] i'll weave my love a garland, it shall be dressed so fine; i'll set it round with roses, with lilies, pinks and thyme. and i'll present it to my love when he comes back from sea, for i love my love, and i love my love, because my love loves me. blow summer breeze, o'er the sea bring my pretty love to me. i wish i were an arrow, that sped into the air; to seek him as a sparrow, and if he was not there, then quickly i'd become a fish to search the raging sea; for i love my love, and i love my love, because my love loves me. blow &c. i would i were a reaper, i'd seek him in the corn; i would i were a keeper, i'd hunt him with my horn. i'd blow a blast, when found at last, beneath the green-wood tree, for i love my love, and i love my love, because my love loves me. blow &c. no. the streams of nantsian c.j.s. [music] o the streams of nant-si-an in two parts divide, where the young men in dancing meet sweetheart and bride. they will take no denial, we must frolic and sing. and the sound of the viol o it makes my heart ring. on the rocky cliff yonder a castle up-stands; to the seamen a wonder above the black sands. 'tis of ivory builded with diamonds glazed bright, and with gold it is gilded, to shine in the night. over yonder high mountain the wild fowl do fly; and in ocean's deep fountain, the fairest pearls lie. on eagle's wings soaring, i'll speed as the wind; ocean's fountain exploring, my true love i'll find. o the streams of nant-si-an divide in two parts, and rejoin as in dancing do lads their sweethearts. so the streams, bright and shining tho' parted in twain, re-unite, intertwining, one thenceforth remain. no. the drunken maidens f.w.b. [music] there were three drunken maidens, came from the isle of wight. they drank from monday morning, nor stayed till saturday night. when saturday night did come, sirs! they would not then go out; not the three drunken maidens, as they pushed the jug about. then came in bouncing sally, with cheeks as red as bloom. "make space, my jolly sisters, now make for sally room. for that i will be your equal, before that i go out." so now four drunken maidens, they pushed the jug about. it was woodcock and pheasant, and partridges and hare, it was all kinds of dainties, no scarcity was there. it was four quarts of malaga, each fairly did drink out, so the four drunken maidens, they pushed the jug about. then down came the landlord, and asked for his pay. o! a forty-pound bill, sirs! the damsels drew that day. it was ten pounds apiece, sirs! but yet, they would not out. so the four drunken maidens, they pushed the jug about. "o where be your spencers? your mantles rich and fine?" "they all be a swallowed in tankards of good wine." "o where be your characters ye maidens brisk and gay?" "o they be a swallowed! we've drunk them clean away." no. tobacco is an indian weed c.j.s. [music] tobacco is an indian weed, grows green at morn, is cut down at eve; it shows our decay; we fade as hay. think on this,--when you smoke tobacco. the pipe that is so lily-white, wherein so many take delight, gone with a touch; man's life is such, think on this,--when you smoke tobacco. the pipe that is so foul within, shews how the soul is stained with sin; it doth require the purging fire. think on this,--when you smoke tobacco. the ashes that are left behind, do serve to put us all in mind, that unto dust, return we must. think on this,--when you smoke tobacco. the smoke that doth so high ascend, shows that our life must have an end; the vapours' gone, man's life is done. think on this,--when you smoke tobacco. no. fair susan c.j.s. [music] fair susan slumbered in shady bower, safe hid, she thought, from every eye; nor dreamed she in that tranquil hour her own true love was passing by. he gazed in rapture upon her beauty, sleep did her charms but more reveal; he deemed it sure a lover's duty from those sweet lips a kiss to steal. in shame and anger poor susan started, with eyes aflame she bade him go; "return no more!--for ever parted; cruel and base to use me so!" "by too much love i have offended, forgive me if i cause you pain; but if indeed our love be ended, pray give me back my kiss again." no. the false bride h.f.s. [music] i courted a maiden both buxom and gay, unheeding what people against her did say, i thought her as constant and true as the day. but now she is going to be married. o when to the church i my fair love saw go, i followed her up with a heart full of woe, and eyes that with tears of grief did o'erflow, to see how my suit had miscarried. o when in the chancel i saw my love stan', with ring on her finger, and true love in han', i thought that for certain 'twas not the right man, although 'twas the man she was taking. o when i my fair love saw sit in her seat i sat myself by her, but nothing could eat; her company, thought i, was better than meat, although my heart sorely was aching. o woe be the day that i courted the maid, that ever i trusted a word that she said, that with her i wander'd along the green glade, accurs'd be the day that i met her. o make me a grave that is long, wide and deep, and cover me over with flowers so sweet, that there i may lie, and may take my last sleep; for that is the way to forget her. no. the barley straw h.f.s. [music] as jan was hurrying down the glade, he met his sweetheart kit; "o whither so fast?" the maiden ask'd, "let's bide and talk a bit." "i'm going to the barn, and if you'll come, and help me thresh the stro', that task complete, why then my sweet, a ramble we will go." she gave consent, to work they went, as if 'twere only play; the flail he plied, whilst kit untied, the sheaves, and cleared away. o willing hands made labour light, and 'ere the sun was low, with arms entwined, these lovers kind, did down the vallies go. said jan, "thou art a helpful lass, wilt thou be mine for life?" "for sure!" she said. to church they sped, and soon were man and wife. a lesson then, for all young men who would a courting go, your sweetheart ask to share your task, and thresh the barley stro'. now many a year, this couple dear, they lived in harmony; and children had, both lass and lad, i think 'twas thirty-three. the sons so hale did wield the flail, and like their father grow; the maidens sweet, like mother were neat: and clean as the barley stro'. no. death and the lady c.j.s. [music] as i walked out one day, one day, all in the merry month of may, when lambs did skip and thrushes sing, and ev'ry bush with buds did spring. i met an old man by the way, his head was bald, his beard was grey, his coat was of the myrtle-green, but underneath his ribs were seen. he in his hand a glass did hold, he shook as one that shakes with cold. i asked of him what was his name, and what strange place from which he came. "my name is death, fair maiden, see lords, dukes and squires bow down to me; for of the branchy tree[ ] am i and you, fair maid, with me must hie." "i'll give you gold, if me you'll spare, i'll give you costly robes to wear!" "o no, sweet maid, make no delay your sand is run, you must away!" alas! alack! the fair maid died, and these the last sad words she cried: "here lies a poor, distressed maid, by death--and death alone betrayed." [footnote : what is meant by the "branchy tree" i do not know, but so the words run in all versions.] no. both sexes give ear h.f.s. [music] both sexes give ear to my fancy, in praise of sweet woman i sing, confined not to doll, sue, or nancy, the mate of the beggar or king. when adam was first a-created, and lord of the universe crown'd, his happiness was not completed, until that a helpmate was found. a garden was planted by nature, man could not produce in his life, but no rest had he till his creator discovered he wanted a wife. he had horses and foxes for hunting which most men love dearly as life, no relishsome food was a wanting but still--he was short of a wife. as adam was resting in slumber, he lost a small rib from his side, and when he awoke--'twas in wonder, to see a most beautiful bride. in transport he gazèd upon her, his happiness now was complete. he praisèd the bountiful donor, who to him had given a mate. she was not taken out of his head, sir, to rule and to triumph in man. nor was she took out of his foot, sir, by him to be trampled upon. but she was took out of his side, sir, his equal co-partner to be; so, united is man with his bride, sir, yet man is the top of the tree. then let not the fair be despisèd by man, as she's part of himself. let woman by man be a-prizèd as more than the world full of wealth. a man without woman's a beggar, tho' by him the world were possess'd but a beggar that's got a good woman with more than the world is he bless'd. no. i rode my little horse f.w.b. [music] i rode my little horse, from london town i came, i rode into the country, to seek myself a dame, and if i meet a pretty maid, be sure i'll kiss her then; and swear that i will marry her--but will not tell her _when_! i found a buxom widow, with many tons of gold, i lived upon her fortune, as long as it would hold. of pounds i took five hundred, bestrode my horse, and then, i promised i would marry her--but never told her _when_! a vintner had a daughter, the golden sun his sign, i tarried at his tavern, i drank his choicest wine; i drank out all his cellar, bestrode my horse, and then, i said the maid i'd marry,--but never told him _when_! the guineas are expended, the wine is also spent; the widow and the maiden, they languish and lament. and if they come to seek me, i'll pack them back again, with promises of marriage,--but never tell them _when_. my little horse i mounted, the world that i might see, i found a pretty maiden--as poor as poor could be. my little horse neglected, to london ran away, i asked if she would marry, and bade her name the day. no. among the new-mown hay c.j.s. [music] as i walked out one morn betime, to view the fields in may, sir, there i espied a fair sweet maid, among the new-mown hay, sir. among the new-mown hay. i said: 'good morning, pretty maid, how come you here so soon, say?' 'to keep my father's sheep,' she said, 'a thing that must be done, aye! among the new-mown hay. 'while they be feeding mid the dew, to pass the time away, sir! i sit me down to knit and sew, among the new-mown hay, sir! among the new-mown hay.' i ask'd if she would wed with me, all on that sunny day, sir! the answer that she gave to me was surely not a nay, sir! among the new-mown hay. then to the church we sped with speed and hymen join'd our hands, sir! no more the ewes and lambs she'll feed since she did make her answer, among the new-mown hay. a lord i be, a lady she, to town we sped straightway, sir! to bless the day, we both agree, we met among the hay, sir! among the new-mown hay. no. i'll build myself a gallant ship (solo or quartette) f.w.b. [music] i'll build myself a gallant ship, a ship of noble fame; and four and twenty mariners, shall box and man the same; and i will stand, with helm in hand, to urge them o'er the main. no scarf shall o'er my shoulders go, i will not comb my hair; the pale moonlight, the candle bright shall neither tell i'm fair. beside the mast i stand so fast, unresting in despair. the rain may beat, and round my feet the waters wash and foam, o thou north wind lag not behind but bear me far from home! my hands i wring, and sobbing sing, as over seas i roam. the moon so pale shall light my sail, as o'er the sea i fly, to where afar the eastern star is twinkling in the sky. i would i were with my love fair, ere ever my love die! no. colly, my cow c.j.s. [music] a story, a story, i'll tell you just now, it's all about killing of colly, my cow. ah! my pretty colly, poor colly, my cow! poor colly will give no more milk to me now. and that is the way my fortune doth go! says little tom dicker, pray what do you mean, by killing your colly when she was so lean? ah! my pretty colly, &c. then cometh the tripeman so trim and so neat, he bids me three ha'pence for belly and feet; ah! my pretty colly, &c. then cometh the tanner with sword at his side, he bids me three shillings for colly, her hide; ah! my pretty colly, &c. then cometh the horner who roguery scorns, he bids me three ha'pence for colly, her horns; ah! my pretty colly, &c. the skin of my colly was softer than silk, and three times a day did my colly give milk; ah! my pretty colly, &c. here's an end to my colly, she's gone past recall, i have sold my poor colly, hide, horns, feet and all. ah! my pretty colly, &c. three shillings and three pence are all for my pains, i've lost my poor colly, my milk and my gains. ah! my pretty colly, &c. no. within a garden h.f.s. [music] within a garden a maiden lingered, when soft the shades of evening fell, expecting, fearing, a footstep hearing, her love appearing, to say farewell. with sighs and sorrow their vows they plighted one more embrace, one last adieu; tho' seas divide, love, in this confide, love, whate'er betide, love, to thee i'm true. long years are over, and still the maiden seeks oft at eve the trysting tree; her promise keeping, and, faithful, weeping, her lost love sleeping across the sea. no. the bonny bird c.j.s. [music] i once lov'd a bird, and a bonny bird, and i thought to make him my own; but he loves a she far better than me, and has taken his flight and is flown. i once lov'd a bird, and a bonny bird, o i lovèd i vow and protest. i lovèd him well, and o! so very well i built him a nest in my breast. o since he is gone, i will let him alone, although that i ache and i burn. if he loves a she far better than me, then i hope he will not return. i lookèd to east and i lookèd to west the weather was hot and was calm. and then i did spy my own bonny bird was perch'd on another maid's arm. then up the green valley and down the green grove, as one distracted in mind, with whoop and halloo, in sorrow i rove no other such bird will i find. now if she have gotten my bonny bird, i never shall get him again. but though i have lost him for ever a day, i'll think of him still in my pain. no. the lady and prentice c.j.s. [music] 'twas of a brisk young lady and of a 'prentice boy. they courted one another, and he was all her joy; the 'prentice boy was banish'd unto a foreign shore, and sad at heart he fancied he'd never see her more. there came that way a squire a man of high degree, said he: 'i'll give you wages be servant unto me.' but oh! the fair young lady she piteously did cry all for the love she bore him she thought that she must die. now first he was in stable, with horses at the stall, and then advanced to table, and servèd in the hall. and next he was advancèd as butler to the same and for his good behaviour a steward last became. o then into a lottery he put his money down, he drew a prize and gainèd full twenty thousand pound. 'farewell, farewell my master! farewell, my lady kind! for i must seek my own true love that tarrieth behind.' he dress'd himself in velvet, in gold and silver braid; and so returned to england to his true love with speed. and when he did espy her t'embrace her did essay, but from his arms she started and frightened drew away. 'your gold and shining silver your velvets i defy i love a humble 'prentice i'll love him till i die.' 'o lady fair! my only, return unto my arms. i many years was banish'd and might not see your charms.' then closely she observed him, and knew him now again. her smiles dispelled her fears as sun disperseth rain. with kisses out of measure she clasped him to her heart, 'o now we meet together, we never more shall, part.' no. paul jones c.j.s. [music] an american frigate, the "richard" by name, mounted guns forty four and from new york she came, to cruise in the channel of old english fame, with a noble commander, paul jones was his name. we had not cruised long ere two sails we espies, a large forty four, and a twenty likewise. some fifty bright shippers, well loaden with store, and the convoy stood in for the old yorkshire shore. ['bout twelve was the hour when we came alongside, with long speaking trumpet: 'whence came you?' he cried. 'ho! answer me quickly, i'll hail you no more, or a thundering broadside i'll into you pour.'][ ] we fought them four glasses, four glasses so hot, till forty bold seamen lay dead on the spot. and fifty five wounded lay drenched in their gore, while loudly the cannons of paul jones did roar. [our carpenter frightened, to paul jones he came, our ship she leaks water, is likewise aflame. paul jones he made answer, thus to him replied, 'if we can do no better, we'll sink alongside.'][ ] the serapis wore round, our vessel to rake o then the proud hearts of the english did ache. the shot flew so frequent, so fierce and so fast, that the bold british colours were haul'd down at last. oh! now my brave boys, we have taken a prize, a large forty four, and a twenty likewise. god help the poor mothers, bereavèd who weep for the loss of their sons in the unfathom'd deep. [footnote : may be omitted when singing.] [footnote : may be omitted when singing.] no. the merry haymakers h.f.s. [music] the golden sun is shining bright, the dew is off the field; to us it is our main delight, the fork and rake to wield. the pipe and tabor both shall play, the viols loudly ring, from morn till eve each summer day, as we go hay-making. chorus: the pipe and tabor, &c. as we my boys hay-making go, all in the month of june, both tom and bet, and jess and joe their happy hearts in tune. o up come lusty jack and will, with pitchfork and with rake, and up come dainty doll and jill, the sweet, sweet hay to make. chorus: the pipe and tabor, &c. o when the haysel all is done, then in the arish grass, the lads shall have their fill of fun, each dancing with his lass. the good old farmer and his wife, shall bring the best of cheer, i would it were, aye, odds my life! hay-making all the year. chorus: the pipe and tabor, &c. no. in bibberley town c.j.s. [music] in bibberley town a maid did dwell, a buxom lass, as i've heard tell; as straight as a wand, just twenty two, and many a bachelor had her in view. ri fal de ral diddle, ri fal de ral dee, what ups and downs in the world there be! this maid so beautiful fair and free, was sought by a squire of high degree; he courted her honestly for his wife, but she couldn't venture so high in life. ri fal de ral &c. a tinker there came to mend the kettle, she fell in love with the man of metal; his songs and his jokes won her heart and her hand, and she promised with him in the church to stand. ri fal de ral &c. they wed, and this jovial mender of pots proved only a brute and the prince of sots; he beat her, he starved her, she gave him the slip, and back to bibberley town did trip. ri fal de ral &c. she found that the squire her former flame had wooed and married a wealthy dame; but a vacant place in the house she took, and, instead of his wife, she became his cook. ri fal de ral diddle, ri fal de ral dee; what ups and downs in the world there be! no. the marigold c.j.s. [music] 'twas east north east, so near the line so near as we could lie, we'd had scarcely left our loading port, 'ere ten sail of turks we spy. "come strike your colours ye english dogs, strike colours presently, come strike your colours ye english dogs, or they shall be struck by we." our captain being a valiant man, on quarterdeck did stand, "it ne'er shall be said that we did run while we have aboard a hand." o! then out spake our boatswain bold, to the gunner then spake he, "come plant your guns while they are cold both powder and shot are free." broadside to broadside we return'd from morn till day was done till three we sank, and three we burn'd and three away did run, till three we sank, and three we burn'd and three did sail away; and one we brought to merry england to show we'd won the day. now if you'd know our goodly ship and know our captain's name; sir thomas merrifield captain was of the marigold, ship of fame. a gallant man sir thomas was of famous bristow town a gallant crew were we aboard we gained us great renown. no. arthur le bride c.j.s. [music] i once had a cousin called arthur le bride, and he and i wandered adown the sea side, for our pleasure and pastime a watching the tide; o the weather was pleasant and charming. so gaily and gallant we went on a tramp, we met sergeant napier and corp'ral demant, and the neat little drummer that tended the camp, to beat the row-dow in the morning. good morning young fellows, the sergeant did cry, and the same to you sergeant we made a reply, there was nothing more spoken, we made to pass by. 'twas all on a christmas day morning. come! come my fine fellows, i pray you enlist, ten guineas in gold i will slap in your fist, and a crown in the bargain to kick up a dust, for to drink the king's health in the morning. [ ] o, no! mr. sergeant, we are not for sale we make no such bargain--your bribe won't avail, not tired of our country we care not to sail, tho' your offers look pleasant and charming. [ ] hah! if you insult me, without other words i swear by the king we will draw out our swords, and thrust thro' your bodies, as strength us affords, and leave you without further warning. we beat the bold drummer as flat as his shoe, we made a football of his row-de-dow-do, and the sergeant and corporal, knocked down the two, o we were the boys in the morning. the two little weapons that hung at their side, as we trotted away we threw into the tide, may old harry be with you, said arthur le bride for staying our walk in the morning. [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] [footnote : may be omitted in singing.] no. the keeper c.j.s. [music] o there was a keeper, a shooting did go, and under his arm he did carry a bow, and that for to bring down the buck and the doe; all in the green forest, the forest so green, where the red roses blossom to crown my queen. the very first doe that he shot at he miss'd, the second escaped by the breadth of his fist. the third doe was young, so he caught her and kiss'd; all in the green forest, the forest so green, where the red roses blossom to crown my queen. "my fair pretty doe, you no longer shall roam, for certainly henceforth with me you shall come, to tarry securely in my little home; all in the green forest, the forest so green, where the red roses blossom to crown my queen. "aside i will cast now my billets and bow, i'll tarry at home with my own pretty doe, as proud as a king of his sceptre, i trow; all in the green forest, the forest so green, where the red roses blossom to crown my queen." no. the queen of hearts c.j.s. [music] to the queen of hearts he's the ace of sorrow, he is here to-day, he is gone to-morrow; young men are plenty, but sweet-hearts few, if my love leave me, what shall i do? when my love comes in i gaze not around, when my love goes out, i fall in a swound; to meet is pleasure, to part is sorrow, he is here to-day, he is gone to-morrow. had i the store in yonder mountain, where gold and silver is had for counting, i could not count, for the thought of thee, my eyes so full that i could not see. i love my father, i love my mother, i love my sister, i love my brother; i love my friends, my relations too, but i'd leave them all for the love of you. my father left me both house and land, and servants many at my command; at my commandment they ne'er shall be, i'll forsake them all for to follow thee. an ace of sorrow to the queen of hearts, o how my bosom bleeds and smarts; young men are plenty, but sweet-hearts few, if my love leave me, what shall i do? no. the owl c.j.s. [music] of all the birds that ever i see, the owl is the fairest in her degree. for all the day long she sits in a tree, and when the night cometh, away flies she. to-whit! to-who! says she, to-who! cinamon, ginger, nutmegs and cloves, and brandy gave me my jolly red nose. the lark in the morn ascendeth on high and leaves the poor owl to sob and to sigh; and all the day long, the owl is asleep, while little birds blithely are singing, cheep! cheep! to-whit! to-who! says she, to-who! cinamon, ginger, &c. there's many a brave bird boasteth awhile, and proves himself great, let providence smile, be hills and be vallies all covered with snow, the poor owl will shiver and mock with ho! ho! to-whit! to-who! says she, to-who! cinamon, ginger, &c. no. my mother did so before me c.j.s. [music] i am a brisk and bonny lass, a little over twenty. and by my comely air and dress, of sweethearts i've got plenty. but i'll beware of wedlock's snare, tho' dying swains adore me, the men i'll tease, myself to please, my mother did so before me. with fine brocade and diamonds bright, like merry spring delighting, my heart, my humours all delight, for my sweet face's inviting. i take delight, both day and night, to be talked of in story. i'll have it said: here shines a maid! my mother did so before me. to parks and plays i often go, i'll waste each leasure hour; i'll walk and talk with every beau, and make them feel my power. if e'er a spark should fire my heart, from one who does adore me, i'll wed and kiss, in married bliss, my mother did so before me. so well i'll manage when i'm wed, my husband to perfection, and as good wives have always said, keep husbands in subjection. no snarling fool me e'er shall rule, nor e'er eclipse my glory, i'll let him see, mistress i'll be, my mother did so before me. no. a week's work well done c.j.s. [music] on monday morn i married a wife, i thought to live a sober life. as it fell out i were better dead, than mark the time when i was wed. laddy-heigh-ho! laddy-heigh-ho! fal-de-ral-li-do! laddy-heigh-ho! on tuesday morning to my surprise, a little before the sun did rise, she rattled her clapper, and scolded more, than ever i heard in my life before. laddy-heigh-ho! &c. on wednesday morning i went to the wood, i thought to do my wife some good. i cut me a twig of holly green, i trust the toughest i'd ever seen. laddy-heigh-ho! &c. i hung the stick up well to dry, i thought on thursday it to try, i laid it about her head and back, before my twig began to crack. laddy-heigh-ho! &c. on friday morning to my surprise, a little before the sun did rise, she rattled her clapper in scolding tone, i turn'd my back and left her alone. laddy-heigh-ho! &c. on saturday morn, as i may say, as she on her pillow consulting lay, a bogie arrived in fume and flame, and carried her off both blind and lame. laddy-heigh-ho! &c. on sunday, neighbours, i dine without a scolding wife and a brawling rout; enjoy my bottle, and my best friend, and surely this is a brave week's end. laddy-heigh-ho! &c. no. the old man can't keep his wife at home c.j.s. [music] the old man can't keep his wife at home, she dearly loves abroad to roam, she will but eat the choicest meat, and leave th'old man the bone. herself must have good cheer, herself drink humming beer. a merry life lives she, for her heart is full of glee. chorus: the old man can't keep his wife at home, she dearly loves abroad to roam, &c. the old man's wife went out to dine, and left him tuck'd in bed at home. she dressed so fine, drank red red wine, her face with pleasure shone. she capered and she danc'd, she like an ostrich pranc'd, and sang there's none so free, as old men's wives may be. chorus: the old man can't keep his wife at home, she dearly loves abroad to roam, &c. the old man began to crawl and cough'd; above the door he set a stone, then sat and quaff'd thin beer and laugh'd, till spasms made him groan. his wife so late came home, then clatter'd down the stone, it fell upon her head, it knocked her flat and dead. chorus: the old man don't keep a wife at home, not one who dearly loves to roam. odds bobs, of strife, and gadding wife the old man now has none. no. sweet farewell c.j.s. [music] will by mary sad reposes on a bank of prim-a-roses. sore is william's heart at leaving, tears that flow tell mary's grieving, sweet, farewell! dearest, farewell, farewell! i'm in the marching order. hark! i hear the colonel crying, drums are beating, colours flying. colours flying, drums are beating, boys! advance, there's no retreating sweet, farewell! &c. gallant boys! be stiff and steady, each man have his flint-lock ready! each man have his flask and powder! and his fire stock o'er his shoulder! sweet, farewell! &c. mary said, do not bereave me! do not break my heart and leave me! if you do, i will torment you, when i'm dead, my ghost will ha'nt you sweet, farewell! &c. nay, said william, my dear mary i with you nowise can tarry. duty calls--that naught can alter at its summons none must falter. sweet, farewell! &c. no. old adam the poacher c.j.s. [music] old adam was a poacher, went out one day at fall, to catch a hare for roasting and eating bones and all, in the sun expecting fun old adam smiling lay. o hare it is good eating, thus did old adam say. old adam was a poacher, went out one day at fall, to catch a hare for roasting, and eating, bones and all. a keeper that was passing, peer'd slyly through the brake saw adam with his springle; proceeded both to take. hare not his'n, so in prison old adam groaning lay. o hare it is good eating but not for him to-day, old adam was a poacher went out one day at fall went out that morning looking big returnèd, looking small. no. the evening prayer c.j.s. [music] matthew, mark and luke and john bless the bed that i lie on. four angels to my bed two to bottom, two to head, two to hear me when i pray, two to bear my soul away. monday morn the week begin, christ deliver our souls from sin. tuesday morn, nor curse nor swear, christes body that will tear. wednesday, middle of the week, woe to the soul christ does not seek. thursday morn, saint peter wrote joy to the soul that heaven hath bote, friday christ died on the tree to save other men as well as me. saturday, sure, the evening dead, sunday morn, the book's outspread. god is the branch and i the flower, pray god send me a blessed hour. i go to bed, some sleep to take, the lord, he knows if i shall wake. sleep i ever, sleep i never, god receive my soul for ever. notes on the songs . by chance it was. music and words dictated by james parsons, hedger, lew down; he had learned it from his father, "the singing machine." a second version of the melody was obtained from bruce tyndall, esq., of exmouth, who had learned it from a devonshire nurse in or . the melody was but a variant. it had lost the e[natural] that comes in so pleasantly. the tune was certainly originally in the dorian mode, the e[flat] being an alteration of a modern singer. we did not, however, feel justified in restoring the air to its early form, as we had no authority for so doing. the words of the song are to be found in a collection of early ballad books in the british museum, entitled "the court of apollo." there it consists of six verses, the first three of which are almost word for word the same as ours. in "the songster's favourite companion," a later collection, the same song occurs. there it is in three verses only, and in a very corrupt form. we are inclined to think that the song dates from the time of james i. or charles i. . the hunting of arscott of tetcott. this song, once vastly popular in north devon, and at all hunting dinners, is now nearly forgotten. the words have been published in "john arscott of tetcott" by luke, plymouth, n.d. a great many variations of the text exist. an early copy, dating from the end of the th century, was supplied me by r. kelly, esq., of kelly; another by a gentleman, now dead, in his grandmother's handwriting ( ), with explanatory notes. the date given in the song varies; sometimes it is set down as , sometimes as . john arscott, the last of his race, died in . the "sons of the blue" are taken to have been sir john molesworth of pencarrow, bart., william morshead of blisland, and braddon clode of skisdon. but neither sir john molesworth nor mr. morshead was, as it happens, a naval man. if the date were either or , it would fit john arscott of tetcott, who died in , and sir john molesworth of pencarrow, who was vice-admiral of cornwall; and the "sons of the blue" would be hender, sparke, and john, sons of sir john. the second john molesworth married jane, daughter of john arscott of tetcott, in . it seems probable, accordingly, that the song belonged originally to the elder john arscott, and was adapted a century later to the last john arscott. the date is not given with precision in the song; it is left vague as to the century--"in the year ' ." the author of the version of the song as now sung is said to have been one dogget, who was wont to run after the foxhounds of the last arscott. he probably followed the habit of all rural bards of adapting an earlier ballad to his purpose, and spoiling it in so doing. i think this, because along with much wretched stuff there occur traces of something better, and smacking of an earlier period. as dogget's doggerel has been printed, and as i have taken down a dozen variants, i have retained only what i deemed worthy of retention, and have entirely recast the conclusion of the song. john arscott is still believed to hunt the country, and there are men alive who declare positively that they have seen him and his hounds go by, and have heard the winding of his horn, at night, in the park at tetcott. mr. frank abbott, gamekeeper at pencarrow, but born at tetcott, informed me, concerning dogget: "once they unkennelled in the immediate neighbourhood of tetcott, and killed at hatherleigh. this runner was in at the death, as was his wont. john arscott ordered him a bed at hatherleigh, but to his astonishment, when he returned to tetcott, his wife told him all the particulars of the run. 'then,' said arscott, 'this must be the doing of none other than dogget; where is he?' dogget was soon found in the servants' hall, drinking ale, having outstripped his master and run all the way home." in the ms. copy of , the names of the "sons of the blue" were bob (robt. dennis of s. breock), bill (bill tickell), and britannia (sir j. molesworth). the tune, which is in the Ã�olian mode, was obtained through the assistance of mr. w.c. richards, schoolmaster at tetcott. we also had it from john benney, labourer, menheniot. mr. richards writes:--"this song is sung annually at the rent-audit of the molesworth estate at tetcott. thirty years ago an old man sang it, and the version i send you is as near the original, as sung by him, as can be secured. workmen on the estate often hum the air, and always sing it at their annual treats." the arscott property at tetcott passed by inheritance to the molesworths. half of the tune was employed by d'urfey, a devonshire man, in his "pills to purge melancholy," to the words, "dear catholic brother" (vi. p. , ed. - ). from d'urfey it passed into the "musical miscellany," , vi. p. , to the words, "come take up your burden, ye dogs, and away." from england the same half-tune was carried into wales, and jones, in his "musical relicks of the welsh bards," , i. p. , gives it set to the words of "difarwch gwyn dyfl." as benny's variant is interesting, i give it here-- [music: and sing fol-de-rol.] . upon a sunday morning. the melody taken down from robert hard, south brent. this is the song to which reference has been made in the introduction. it is not a genuine folk melody, but it is an interesting example of the way in which the folk muse reshapes an air. hard sang the words of charles swan-- "'twas on a sunday morning, before the bells did peal, a note came through the window, with cupid as the seal." these words were set to music by francis mori in . i give mori's tune, and advise that with it should be compared hard's variation of it. i have written fresh words to this variation-- [music: f. mori.] . the trees they are so high. words and melody taken down in first from james parsons, then from matthew baker. again in from richard broad, aged , of herodsfoot, near s. keyne, cornwall. again, the words, to a different air, from roger hannaford. another version from william aggett, a paralysed labourer of years, at chagford. mr. sharp has also obtained it in somersetshire. a fragment was sung at the folk-song competition at frome in april . mr. kidson has noted a version in yorkshire, miss broadwood another in surrey, see _folk-song journal_, vol. i. p. . apparently there exist two distinct variants of the ballad, each to its proper melody. johnson, in his "museum," professed to give a scottish version-- "o lady mary ann looks owre the castle wa', she saw three bonny boys playing at the ba', the youngest he was the flower among them a'; my bonny laddie's young, but he's growing yet." but of his version only three of the stanzas are genuine, and they are inverted; the rest are a modern composition. a more genuine scottish form is in maidment's "north country garland," edinburgh, ; but there the young man is fictitiously converted into a laird of craigstoun. it begins-- "father, said she, you have done me wrong, for ye have married me on a childe young man, and my bonny love is long agrowing, growing, deary, growing, growing, said the bonny maid." but the most genuine form is on an aberdeen broadside, b.m., , f. this, the real scottish ballad, has verses not in the english, and the english ballad has a verse or two not in the scottish. i have received an irish version as sung in co. tipperary; it is in six verses, but that about the "trees so high" is lacking. the rhyme is more correct than that of any of the printed versions, and the lines run in triplets. one verse is-- "o father, dear father, i'll tell you what we'll do, we'll send him off to college for another year or two, and we'll tie round his college cap a ribbon of the blue, to let the maidens know he is married." in one of the versions i have taken down (hannaford's and aggett's) there were traces of the triplet very distinct, and the tune was akin to the irish melody sent me, as sung by mary o'bryan, cahir, tipperary. portions of the ballad have been forced into that of "the cruel mother" in motherwell's ms., child's "british and scottish ballads," i. p. . in this a mother gives birth to three sons at once and murders them; but after they are murdered-- "she lookit over her father's wa', and saw three bonnie boys playing at the ba'." our melody is in the phrygian mode, a scale which is extremely scarce in english folk-song. the only other example we know is in ducoudray's book of the "folk melodies of brittany." the scotch have two airs, one in johnson's "museum," the other in "the british minstrel," glasgow, , vol. ii. p. , both totally distinct from ours. that the ballad is english and not originally scotch is probable, for fletcher quotes it in "the two noble kinsmen," . he makes the crazy jailer's daughter sing us a snatch of an old ballad-- "for i'll cut my green coat, a foot above my knee, and i'll clip my yellow locks, an inch below my eye, hey ninny, ninny, ninny; he's buy me a white cut (stick) forth for to ride, and i'll go seek him, through the world that is so wide, hey ninny, ninny, ninny." in the ballad as taken down from aggett-- "i'll cut my yellow hair away by the root, and i will clothe myself all in a boy's suit, and to the college high, i will go afoot." i have had versions also from mary langworthy, stoke flemming, in the hypodorian mode, and from w.s. vance, penarth, as sung by an old woman at padstow in , now dead. mr. sharp gives a version in "folk songs from somerset," no. . . parson hogg. this was sung by my great-uncle, thomas snow, esq., of franklyn, near exeter, when i was a child. i have received it also from mr. h. whitfeld, brushmaker, plymouth. the words may be found, not quite the same, but substantially so, in "the new cabinet of love," _circ._ , as "doctor mack." in oliver's "comic songs," _circ._ , it is "parson ogg, the cornish vicar." it is also in "the universal songster" ( ), ii. p. . it is found on broadsides. . cold blows the wind. the words originally reached me as taken down by the late mrs. gibbons, daughter of sir w.l. trelawney, bart., from an old woman, who, in , was nurse in her father's house. since then we have heard it repeatedly, indeed there are few old singers who do not know it. there are two melodies to which it is sung, that we give here, and that to which "childe the hunter" is set in this collection. the ballad is always in a fragmentary condition. the ballad, under the title of "the unquiet grave," is in professor child's "british ballads," no. . he gives various forms of it. the idea on which it is based is that if a woman has plighted her oath to a man, she is still bound to him, after he is dead, and that he can claim her to follow him into the world of spirits, unless she can redeem herself by solving riddles he sets her. see further on this topic under "the lover's tasks," no. . verses and are not in the original ballad. i have supplied them to reduce the length and give a conclusion. . the sprig of thyme. taken down from james parsons. after the second verse he broke away into "the seeds of love." joseph dyer, of mawgan in pyder, sang the same ballad or song to the same tune, and in what i believe to be the complete form of words-- "o once i had plenty of thyme, it would flourish by night and by day, till a saucy lad came, return'd from the sea, and stole my thyme away. "o and i was a damsel fair, but fairer i wish't to appear; so i wash'd me in milk, and i clothed me in silk, and put the sweet thyme in my hair. "with june is the red rose in bud, but that was no flower for me, i plucked the bud, and it prick'd me to blood, and i gazed on the willow tree. "o the willow tree it will twist, and the willow tree it will twine, i would i were fast in my lover's arms clasp't, for 'tis he that has stolen my thyme. "o it's very good drinking of ale, but it's better far drinking of wine, i would i were clasp't in my lover's arms fast, for 'tis he that has stolen my thyme." the song, running as it does on the same theme and in the same metre as "the seeds of love," is very generally mixed up with it, and miss broadwood calls her version of it, in "english county songs," p. , "the seeds of love, _or_ the sprig of thyme." the "seeds of love" is attributed by dr. whittaker, in his "history of whalley," to mrs. fleetwood habergham, who died in . he says: "ruined by the extravagance and disgraced by the vices of her husband, she soothed her sorrows by some stanzas yet remembered among the old people of her neighbourhood." see "the new lover's garland," b.m. ( , , b ); a northumbrian version in "northumbrian minstrelsy," , p. ; a scottish version in "albyn's anthology," , i. p. ; a somersetshire in "folk songs from somerset," no. ; a yorkshire in kidson's "traditional tunes," p. . as the two songs are so mixed up together, i have thought it best to re-write the song. the melody was almost certainly originally in the Ã�olian mode, but has got altered. . roving jack. taken down, words and melody, from william aggett, chagford, and from james parsons, lew down. an inferior version of the words is to be found among catnach's broadsheets, ballads, b.m. ( , b, vol. vii.), also one printed in edinburgh, ballads ( - ), b.m. ( , f). note what has been said relative to this tune, which is in the Ã�olian mode, under , "by chance it was," with which it is closely related. . brixham town. words taken down from jonas coaker, aged , and blind. the melody was given us by mr. john webb, who had heard him sing it in former years. another version to the same air was obtained from north tawton. again, another was given me by the hon. a.f. northcote, who took it down in from an itinerant pedlar of years at buckingham. the words and tune were clearly composed at the time of the commonwealth, - . . green broom. words and melody taken down from john woodrich, blacksmith; he learned both from his grandmother when he was a child. the hon. j.s. northcote sent me another version taken down from an old woman at upton pyne. again, another from mr. james ellis of chaddlehanger, lamerton; another from bruce tyndall, esq., of exmouth, as taken down from a devonshire cook in or . this, the same melody as that from upton pyne. woodrich's tune is the brightest, the other the oldest. the same ballad to different tune in "northumbrian minstrelsy," , p. . the song is in d'urfey's "pills to purge melancholy," , vi. p. , in verses, with a different conclusion. broadside versions by disley and such. also in "the broom man's garland," in "lxxxii. old ballads" collected by j. bell, b.m. ( , , c ). bell was librarian to the society of antiquaries, newcastle-on-tyne, - . mr. kidson has obtained a version in north yorkshire. another is in "english county songs," p. . in "gammer gurton's garland," _circ._ , are three verses. . as johnny walked out. words and melody from james parsons. the original words are in six stanzas, and these i have compressed. the words with some verbal differences as "set by mr. dunn" are in "six english songs and dialogues, as they are performed in the public gardens," n.d., but about . then in _the london magazine_, ; in "apollo's cabinet," liverpool, ; in "clio and euterpe," london, . our melody was obtained also by mr. t.s. cayzer, at post bridge, in , and we have taken down four or five versions. the tune is totally different from that by "mr. dunn." . the miller and his sons. taken down, music and words, from j. helmore, miller, south brent. the words occur in the roxburgh collection, iii. p. . it is included in bell's "songs of the english peasantry," p. ; and is in the "northumbrian minstrelsy," newcastle, . in the north of england it is sung to the air of "the oxfordshire tragedy," chappell, p. . our air bears no resemblance to this. . ormond the brave. this very interesting ballad was taken down, words and music, from j. peake, tanner, liskeard; it was sung by his father about . it refers to the duke of ormond's landing in devon in . ormond fled to france in the first days of july, "a duke without a duchy," as lord oxford termed him, when it was manifest that the country was resolved on having the hanoverian elector as king, and was unwilling to summon the chevalier of st. george to the throne. at the end of october the duke of ormond landed in devon at the head of a few men, hoping that the west would rise in the jacobite cause, but not a single adherent joined his standard, and he returned to france. the devonshire squires were ready to plant scotch pines in token of their jacobite sympathies, but not to jeopardise their heads and acres in behalf of a cause which their good sense told them was hopeless. i have met with the ballad in a garland, b.m. ( , , b ). this, however, is imperfect. it runs thus-- "i am ormond the brave, did you ever hear of me? who lately was banished from my own country. they sought for my life and plundered my estate, for being so loyal to queen anne the great. i am ormond, etc. "says ormond, if i did go, with berwick i stood, and for the crown of england i ventured my blood, to the boyne i advanced, to tingney (quesnoy?) also, i preserved king william from berwick his foe. "i never sold my country as cut-purses do, nor never wronged my soldiers of what was their due. such laws i do hate, you're witness above, i left my estate for the country i love. "although they degrade me, i value it not a straw, some call me jemmy butler, i'm ormond you know. (_rest of verse missing._) "but in the latter days our late mistress anne, disprove my loyalty if you can, i was queen anne's darling, old england's delight, sacheverel's friend, and fanatic's spite." when peake sang the song to mr. sheppard and me, he converted german elector into german lecturers. the impeachment and attainder of the duke in was a cruel and malicious act. when he was in the netherlands acting in concert with prince eugene, he was hindered from prosecuting the war by secret instructions from queen anne. when quesnoy was on the point of capitulating, he was forced to withdraw, as he had received orders to proclaim a cessation of arms for two months. after the death of queen anne, the new whig ministry was resolved on his destruction, and he fled to france, where, although he had been loyal to william of orange, and had fought under him at the boyne, and had also been one of the first to welcome george i., he threw himself into the cause of the pretender, in a fit of resentment at the treatment he had received. he died on th november at avignon, but his body was brought to england and buried in henry vii.'s chapel, westminster. swift, writing in the hour of his persecution, gives his character at great length. "the attainder," says he, "now it is done, looks like a dream to those who will consider the nobleness of his birth; the great merits of his ancestors, and his own; his long, unspotted loyalty; his affability, generosity, and sweetness of nature.... i have not conversed with a more faultless person; of great justice and charity; a true sense of religion, without ostentation; of undoubted valour; thoroughly skilled in his trade of a soldier; a quick and ready apprehension; with a good share of understanding, and a general knowledge of men and history." mackay, in his "characters of the court of great britain," says of him when governor in ireland:--"he governs in ireland with more affection from the people, and his court is in the greatest splendour ever known in that country. he certainly is one of the most generous, princely, brave men that ever was, but good-natured to a fault." . john barleycorn. this famous old song has gone through several recastings. the earliest known copy is of the age of james i. in the pepysian collection, i. , printed in black letter by h. gosson ( - ). other copies of charles ii.'s reign in the same collection, i. , and the ewing collection, by the publishers clarke, thackeray, and passenger, to the tune of "shall i lye beyond thee." chappell concludes that this was a very early ballad. "the language is not that of london and its neighbourhood during james's reign. it is either northern dialect--which, according to puttenham, would commence about miles from london--or it is much older than the date of the printers," roxburgh ballads, ii. p. . this ballad begins-- "as i went through the north country i heard a merry greeting, a pleasant toy and full of joy-- two noblemen were meeting." these two noblemen are sir john barleycorn and thomas goodale. the sixth verse runs-- "sir john barlycorne fought in a boule who wonne the victorie, and made them all to fume and sweare that barlycorne should die. "some said kill him, some said drowne, others wisht to hang him hie; for as many as follow barlycorne shall surely beggars die. "then with a plough they plow'd him up, and thus they did devise, to burie him quicke within the earth, and sware he should not rise. "with harrowes strong they combèd him and burst clods on his head, a joyfull banquet then they made when barlycorne was dead." then the ballad runs on the same as ours. burns got hold of this ballad, and tinkered it up into the shape in which it appears in his collected works, altering some expressions, and adding about six stanzas. he in no way improved it. jameson, in his "popular ballads," edinburgh, , tells us that he had heard it sung in morayshire before that burns' songs were published. dixon, in his collection of the "songs of the english peasantry," , says that "john barleycorn" was sung throughout england to the tune of "stingo, or oil of barley," which may be found in chappell, from the "dancing master," in which it occurs from to . but this is not the air to which it is set in the broadsides above referred to, nor is it that to which it is sung in the west of england. dr. barrett has given a different "john barleycorn" in his "english folk-songs," and another is in the _folk-song journal_, vol. i. p. . the words as now sung may be found in "the mountain of hair garland," b.m. ( , c ), _circ._ . it is also among such's broadsides. words and air were taken down by mr. bussell, from james mortimore, a cripple, at princetown, in . a version taken down in sussex, to a different tune, is seen in the _folk-song journal_. this begins-- "there were three men came out of the west, they sold their wheat for rye; they made an oath and a solemn oath, john barleycorn should die." one verse is not in our version-- "and in the mash-tub he was put, and they scalded him stark blind. and then they served him worse than that they cast him to the swine." . sweet nightingale. in "ballads and songs of the peasantry of england," by robert bell, london, , the author says: "this curious ditty, which may be confidently assigned to the th century ... we first heard in germany at marienberg on the moselle. the singers were four cornish miners, who were at that time, , employed at some lead mines near the town of zell. the leader, or captain, john stocker, said that the song was an established favourite with the miners of cornwall and devonshire, and was always sung on the pay-days and at the wakes; and that his grandfather, who died thirty years before, at the age of a hundred years, used to sing the song, and say it was very old. the tune is plaintive and original." unfortunately mr. bell does not give the tune. the air was first sent me by e.f. stevens, esq., of the terrace, st. ives, who wrote that the melody "had run in his head any time these eight and thirty years." we have since had it from a good many old men in cornwall, and always to the same air. they assert that it is a duet, and was so set in our first edition. mr. bell did not know much of the subject, or he would have been aware that so far from the song being of the th century, it was composed by bickerstaff for "thomas and sally" in , and was set to music by dr. arne. i have, however, adopted bell's words instead of those of bickerstaff, as shorter. the cornish melody is quite distinct from that by arne, and is not earlier or later than the second half of the th century. . widdecombe fair. at present the best known and most popular of devonshire songs, though the melody is without particular merit. the original "uncle tom cobley" lived in a house near yeoford junction, in the parish of spreyton. his will was signed on january , , and was proved on march , . he was a genial old bachelor. mr. samuel peach, his oldest relation living, tells me, "my great-uncle, who succeeded him, with whom i lived for some years, died in , over eighty years of age; he married, but left no children." we have obtained numerous variants of the air, one taken down from r. bickle, two bridges, is an early form of the melody; but as that we give is familiar to most devonshire men, we have retained it. the names in the chorus all belonged to residents at sticklepath. mr. c. sharp has taken down a variant as "midsummer fair" in somersetshire. the words so far as they went were the same, but each verse ended in a jingle instead of names. . ye maidens pretty. the words and melody from james parsons. the fullest broadside version, but very corrupt, is one published at aberdeen, ballads, b.m. ( , f, p. ); another, shorter, by williams of portsea. in both great confusion has been made by some ignorant poetaster in enlarging and altering, so that in many of the verses the rhymes have been lost. this is how the aberdeen broadside copy begins-- "you maidens pretty in country and city with pity hear, my mournful tale; a maid confounded, in sorrow drownded, and deeply wounded, with grief and pain." in the third line the "pity" has got misplaced, and "sad complain" has been turned into "mournful tale," to the loss of the rhyme. verse has fared even worse. it runs-- "my hardened parents gave special order that i should be close confined be (_sic._) within my chamber far from all danger, or lest that i should my darling see." a parody on the song was written by ashley, of bath, and sung in "bombastes furioso," rhodes' burlesque, in , to the irish tune of "paddy o'carrol." this appears also in "the london warbler," vols., n.d., but about , vol. i. p. -- "my love is so pretty, so gay, and so witty, all in town, court, and city, to her must give place. my lord on the woolsack, his coachman did pull back, to have a look, full smack, at her pretty face," etc. a catnach broadside, "the cruel father and the affectionate lovers," is a new version of the original ballad. words and melody are probably of the elizabethan age; an air to which this ballad has been recovered from tradition in surrey resembles ours, and is a corruption of the earlier melody. the ballad goes back to a remote antiquity. the french have it, a "complainte romanesque," of which tiersot says: "it was known in past ages, as is shown by a semi-literary imitation, published in a song-book of the beginning of the th century. and in our own day, poets and literary men, such as gerard de nerval, prosper mérimée, m. auguste vitu, have given their names to it, having picked it up as a precious thing from oral recitations by the peasants of our provinces." it is the ballad of a princess loving a knight, "qu' n'a pas vaillant six deniers." the king loys, her father, has imprisoned her in the highest of his towers-- "elle y fut bien sept ans passés sans qu' son pèr' vint la visiter; et quand l'y eut sept ans passés, son père la fut visiter."--tiersot, _op. cit._ p. . there can, i think, be no doubt that it is an old troubadour lay which has been re-composed in elizabethan times, and has since been somewhat degraded. . the silly old man. a ballad that was sung by the late rev. g. luscombe something over half a century ago. he was curate of bickleigh, and by ancestry belonged to a good old devonshire family, and he was particularly fond of ancient west of england songs. another version, from old suey stephens, a charwoman at stowford; another, as sung in , received from dr. reed in tiverton. miss mason, in her "nursery rhymes and country songs," , gives a slight variant, also from devonshire. the ballad is in dixon's "songs of the english peasantry," , as taken down by him from oral recitation in yorkshire in . it exists in a chap-book, under the title of "the crafty farmer," published in . in yorkshire the song goes by the name of "saddle to rags"; there, and elsewhere in the north of england, it is sung to the tune of "the rant," better known as "how happy could i be with either." it has been published as a scottish ballad in maidment's "ballads and songs," edinburgh, . it is given in kidson's "traditional tunes." the words also in "a pedlar's pack," by logan, edinburgh, . the tune to which this ballad is sung in devonshire is quite distinct. . the months of the year. still a popular song among farm labourers. three versions of the air and words were taken down--one at south brent, one at belstone, one at post bridge. the air is clearly an old dance tune. the version we preferred was that given us by j. potter, farmer, of merripit, post bridge. for like songs, see "english county songs," p. , and barrett's "folk-songs." barrett has the same air as ours, but in triple time. that a similar song should be found on the continent is not wonderful; see "les douze mois de l'année" in coussemaker: "les flamands de france," p. . . the chimney sweep. taken down from j. helmore, miller, south brent. the first verse occurs in one of james catnach's chap-books: "the cries of london," _circ._ . the tune is possibly based on one used by the savoyard sweeps, for tiersot refers to one such: "avec sa bizarre vocalise descendante, d'un accent si étrange dans sa rudesse montagnarde-- "ramonez-ci, ramonez-là, sh-a-a-a-ah la cheminée du haut en bas." and this corresponds with the passage, "aye and there," with its curious descent in our tune: tiersot, "hist. de la chanson populaire en france," paris, , p. . . the saucy sailor. words and melody taken from james parsons. a broadside with a different ending printed by disley, pitts, such & hodges. also tozer's "forty sailors' songs," boosey, no. . the usual air to which this song is sung in devon is of a much earlier character; but we give this as more agreeable to modern ears. barrett gives the song in his "english folk-songs," no. , to a different tune. . blue muslin. taken down, words and music, from john woodrich, blacksmith. muslin was introduced into england in , and cork in . both are spoken of as novelties, and muslin is sung to the old form of the word, mous-el-ine. miss f. crossing sent me another version of the words, taken down from an old woman in south devon, in or about -- "'my man john, what can the matter be?' 'i love a lady, and she won't love me.' 'peace, sir, peace, and don't despair, the lady you love will be your only care; and it must be gold to win her.' "'madam, will you accept of this pretty golden ball, to walk all in the garden, or in my lady's hall?' 'sir, i'll accept of no pretty golden ball,' etc. "'madam, will you accept of a petticoat of red, with six golden flounces around it outspread?' "'madam, will you accept of the keys of my heart, that we may join together, and never, never part?' "'madam, will you accept of the keys of my chest, to get at all my money, and to buy what you think best?' "'sir, i will accept of the keys of your chest, to get at all your money, and to buy what i think best; and i'll walk and i'll talk with you.' "'my man john, there's a box of gold for you, for that which you told me has come true, and 'twas gold, 'twas gold that did win her.'" another version comes from yorkshire ("halliwell nursery rhymes," th ed., ); another from cheshire (broadwood, "english county songs," p. ); another in mason's "nursery rhymes" (metzler, , p. ). melodies different from ours. . the death of parker. words and melody taken down from samuel fone, mason, blackdown. it is identical with one obtained in yorkshire by mr. kidson. "the death of parker" is found on broadsides, and is in "the lover's harmony," n.d., printed by pitts, of seven dials. it is in logan's "pedlar's pack," p. , and in ashton's "modern street ballads," london, , p. . on april , , when admiral bridport, commanding the line-of-battle ships at portsmouth and spithead, signalled for the fleet to prepare for sea, the men, by a preconcerted agreement, refused to raise anchors till they had obtained redress for their grievances, which had been sent in the form of a petition to lord howe, two months before, and which had remained unnoticed. the lords of the admiralty endeavoured for some days, but ineffectually, to reduce the men to obedience. at last the grievances complained of were redressed by the action of lord bridport, who also obtained his majesty's pardon for the offenders. however, in may, the sailors at portsmouth, thinking that the government did not intend to keep faith with them, came ashore and committed great excesses. shortly after this the fleet at sheerness exhibited a mutinous spirit, and this broke out into open mutiny at the nore. at the head of the men was richard parker, a devonshire man. the obnoxious officers were sent ashore, and the red flag was hoisted. altogether twenty-five ships were included in the mutiny. the mutineers seized certain store-ships, fired on some frigates that were about to put to sea, and blockaded the mouth of the thames. all attempts at conciliation having failed, it became necessary to resort to stringent measures. ships and gunboats were armed, batteries were erected on shore; the mutineers were prevented from landing to obtain fresh water and provisions; and all buoys and beacons were removed, so as to render egress from the thames impossible. one by one the ships engaged in the mutiny began to drop off, and at last the _sandwich_, parker's flagship, ran in under the batteries and delivered up the ringleader. parker was hung at the yard-arm on june . the ballad was composed at the time, and obtained a wide circulation by appearing on broadsides. at the exeter assizes in , john c. parker, son of richard parker, obtained a verdict against his aunts for the possession of an estate called shute, which had belonged to his father's elder brother. the question turned upon the legitimacy of the plaintiff, which was proved by his mother, a woman who exhibited the remains of uncommon beauty, and who was a scottish woman, married to richard parker in . . the helston furry dance. on may , annually, a festival is held at helston, in cornwall, to celebrate the incoming of spring. very early in the morning a party of youths and maidens go into the country, and return dancing through the streets to a quaint tune, peculiar to the day, called the "furry dance." at eight o'clock the "hal-an-tow" is sung by a party of from twenty to thirty men and boys who come into the town bearing green branches, with flowers in their hats, preceded by a single drum, on which a boy beats the furry dance. they perambulate the town for many hours, stopping at intervals at some of the principal houses. at one o'clock a large party of ladies and gentlemen, in summer attire--the ladies decorated with garlands of flowers, the gentlemen with nosegays and flowers in their hats, assemble at the town hall, and proceed to dance after the band, playing the traditional air. they first trip in couples, hand in hand, during the first part of the tune, forming a string of from thirty to forty couples, or perhaps more; at the second part of the tune the first gentleman turns with both hands the lady behind him, and her partner turns in like manner with the first lady; then each gentleman turns his own partner, and then they trip on as before. the other couples, of course, pair and turn in the same way, and at the same time. the dancing is not confined to the streets; the house doors are thrown open, and the train of dancers enters by the front, dances through the house, and out at the back, through the garden, and back again. it is considered a slight to omit a house. finally the train enters the assembly room and there resolves itself into an ordinary waltz. as soon as the first party is finished, another goes through the same evolutions, and then another, and so on, and it is not till late at night that the town returns to its peaceful propriety. there is a general holiday in the town on flora day, and so strictly was this formerly adhered to, that anyone found working on that day was compelled to jump across pengella, a wide stream that discharges its waters into loo pool. as this feat was almost impracticable, it involved a sousing. the festival has by no means ceased to be observed; it has rather, of late years, been revived in energetic observance. the "helston furry dance" is a relic of part of the old english may games. these originally comprised four entirely distinct parts. st. the election and procession of the king and queen of the may, who were called the summer king and queen. nd. the morris dance, performed by men disguised, with swords in their hands. rd. the "hobby horse." th. the "robin hood." in the helston performance we have a fragment only of the original series of pageants; at padstow the hobby-horse still figures. i have given the two padstow songs in "a garland of country song," , no. . the helston furry dance tune was printed in davies gilbert's "christmas carols," nd ed., . his form is purer than ours, which is as now sung. edward jones had already published it in his "bardic museum," vol. ii. ( ) as "the cornish may song," and george johnson in his "welsh airs," vol. ii. ( ). . blow away, ye morning breezes. taken down, words and music, from robert hard. this curious song was to be sung by two sopranos; that is to say, one voice taunts the other, and the second replies, then both unite in the chorus. we have omitted the retort, which consists simply in the application of the same words to the first singer. it is certainly an early composition. one passage in it occurs in "the knight and the shepherd's daughter," in percy's "relicks," and child's "english and scotch ballads"-- "would i had drunk the water cleare when i had drunk the wine, rather than any shepherd's brat should be a lady of mine. would i had drunk the puddle foule when i had drunk the ale," etc. the burden or chorus, "blow away," etc., occurs also in the ballad of "the baffled knight." . the hearty good fellow. taken down, words and music, from robert hard. this ballad is found on a broadside by pitts, entitled "adventures of a penny." the first verse there runs-- "long time i've travelled the north country seeking for good company. good company i always could find, but none was pleasing to my mind. sing whack, fal de ral, etc., i had one penny." the rest is very much the same as our version. i also heard it sung by a worker at the aller potteries, near newton abbot. mr. kidson has obtained a traditional version in yorkshire, and mr. c. sharp one in somersetshire from eliza hutchins of langport. as the accent came wrong in the version we received from hard, we have adopted that as given by eliza hutchins. . the bonny bunch of roses. of this we have taken down a great number of versions. the melody is always the same. the youth in the printed broadside copies is always napoleon bonaparte. history does not agree with what is said of the hero in the song. it is almost certainly an anti-jacobite production, adapted to napoleon, with an additional verse relative to moscow. in the broadside versions the song is given "to the tune of the bunch of roses, o!" indicating that there was an earlier ballad of the same nature. this was a favourite fo'castle song in the middle of the nineteenth century. there is a version of it in christie's "traditional ballads." one has also been recovered by mr. kidson in yorkshire. the song was such a favourite that a public-house near wakefield bears "the bonny bunch of roses, o!" as its sign. . the last of the singers. the melody taken down from william huggins, mason, of lydford, who died in march . he had been zealously engaged that winter going about among his ancient musical friends collecting old songs for me, when he caught a chill and died. the words he gave were those of the ballad, "the little girl down the lane," and were of no merit. i have therefore discarded them and written fresh words, and dedicate them to the memory of poor old will. . the tythe pig. words and air taken from robert hard. sung also by j. helmore. the song appears on broadsides by disley, jackson of birmingham, harkness of preston, catnach, and others. there are ten verses in the original. i have cut them down to seven. . old wichet. taken from thomas darke of whitstone. he had learned it in from a fellow labourer. sung also by james parsons, samuel fone, and j. woodrich. it is said to be still popular in the north of england. a scottish version in herd's collection, , and in johnson's "musical museum," edinburgh, - , vol. v. p. . "old wichet" is in the roxburgh collection, and bell has printed it in his "ballads and songs of the english peasantry." dr. arnold recast the song to a tune of his own in "auld robin gray," . the scottish version begins-- "the good man cam hame at e'en and hame cam he. and there he saw a saddle horse where nae horse should be." dr. arnold begins-- "'twas on christmas day, my father he did wed, three months after that, my mother was brought to bed." in the original english song the final line to each stanza runs-- "old wichet went a cuckold out, and a cuckold he came home." but in one version taken down-- "when honest men went out, under a horned moon." i have thought it advisable to modify the last line of each stanza, and to compose a last stanza, so as to give to the song a less objectionable character. a somewhat similar ballad exists in france, as "marianne," in lemoine, "chansons du limousin," limoges, ; in daymard, "vieux chants populaires de quercy," cahors, ; "le jaloux," in bladé, "poésies populaires de gascogne," . but, in fact, all these songs are the versification of an old troubadour tale, that is given in barbazan, "fabliaux et contes des poètes françois xi.-xiv. siècles," as the "chevalier à la robe vermeille," t. iii. p. . alphonse daudet, in "numa roumestan," introduces a great portion of the ballad. he says, "c'est sur un air grave comme du plain-chant." in the midst of the song, the person reciting it breaks off, and transported by enthusiasm exclaims: "Ã�a, voyez-vous, mes enfants, c'est _bo_ (beau) comme du shakespeare." . jan's courtship. words and air from mr. r. rowe, longabrook, milton abbot. another set, slightly different, from mr. crossing; another, practically identical, from mr. chowen, brentor. as "robin's courtship," the song was recovered by mr. e.t. wedmore of bristol, in somersetshire. it has also been noted in the same county by mr. sharp as "william the rose," sung to the tune of "lillibulero." it is found in "the universal songster," _circ._ , as "poor bob." in the "roxburgh ballads," vi. pp. - , is what is probably the earliest form--"come hither my dutiful son, and take counsel of me." this was sung to the air "grim king of the ghosts." another version is referred to in the "beggars' opera," act iii. sc. viii., "now roger i'll tell thee, because thou'rt my son." our tune is rugged, and somersetshire in character. it is in the Ã�olian mode. . the drowned lover. taken down from james parsons. this is a very early song. it first appears as "captain digby's farewell," in the "roxburgh ballads," iv. p. , printed in . in playford's "choice ayres," , i. p. , it was set to music by mr. robert smith. then it came to be applied to the death of the earl of sandwich, after the action in sole bay, . a black letter ballad, date _circ._ , is headed, "to the tune of the earl of sandwich's farewell." the original song consisted of three stanzas only; it became gradually enlarged and somewhat altered, and finally sam cowell composed a burlesque on it, which has served more or less to corrupt the current versions of the old song, printed on broadsides by catnach, harkness, and others. the black letter ballad of begins-- "one morning i walked by myself on the shoar when the tempest did cry and the waves they did roar, yet the music of the winds and the waters was drownd by the pitiful cry, and the sorrowful sound, oh! ah! ah! ah! my love's dead. there is not a bell but a triton's shell, to ring, to ring, to ring my love's knell." "colonel digby's lament," , begins-- "i'll go to my love, where he lies in the deep, and in my embrace, my dearest shall sleep. when we wake, the kind dolphins together shall throng, and in chariots of shells shall draw us along. ah! ah! my love is dead. there was not a bell, but a triton's shell, to ring, to ring out his knell." a second version of the melody, but slightly varied from that we give, was sent us by mr. h. whitfeld of plymouth, as sung by his father. our air is entirely different from that given by playford, and is probably the older melody, which was not displaced by the composition of mr. r. smith. the song is sung to the same melody, but slightly varied, in ireland. . childe the hunter. words taken in a fragmentary form from jonas coaker. he had used up the material of the ballad, incorporating it into a "poem" he had composed on dartmoor, and vastly preferred his own doggerel to what was traditional. the Ã�olian melody given is that to which the misses phillips, who were born and reared at shaw, on dartmoor, informed me that they had heard the ballad sung about . we also obtained this air to "cold blows the wind." it is unquestionably an early harp tune, not later than the reign of henry vii. for the story of childe of plymstock, see murray's "handbook of devon," ed. , p. ; more fully and critically in w. crossing's "ancient crosses of dartmoor," , p. . . the cottage thatched with straw. taken down, words and melody, from john watts, quarryman, alder, thrushleton. this is one of the best known and, next to "widdecombe fair," most favourite songs of the devon peasantry. mr. kidson has noted the song from a worcestershire man. so far we have not been able to trace either words or melody, though neither can be earlier than the beginning of the nineteenth century, and the song has all the character of a published composition, and no spontaneous composition of a peasant. . cicely sweet. words and air sent me by j.s. hurrell, esq., kingsbridge, who had learned them in the middle of last century from mr. a. holoran, a devonshire schoolmaster. it has already been published as "sylvia sweet" in dale's "collection," _circ._ . two verses are given by halliwell as traditional in his "nursery rhymes," th ed., , p. . . a sweet, pretty maiden. melody taken down from james parsons. the words of his ballad were interesting and poetical, but did not fit the tune. it began-- "a maiden sweet went forth in may, nor sheet nor clout she bare, she went abroad all on the day to breathe the fresh spring air. before that she came back again the maiden bore a pretty son, and she roll'd it all up in her apron." the theme is the same as "she roun't in her apron" in johnson's "musical museum," v. p. ; and as it was quite impossible for us to print it, i have set to the air another song. . the white cockade. words and tune from edmund fry. the words of this ballad are often mixed up with those of "it was one summer morning, as i went o'er the grass." the song used to be well known in lancashire and yorkshire. several versions are given in kidson's "traditional tunes." as we heard the song, the cockade was described as green, but there never was a green cockade. i have somewhat altered the words. the jacobite song of the "white cockade" is totally distinct. a barnstaple ware punch-bowl with cover i have seen in the parish of altarnon, cornwall, has on the cover the figure of a piper with his dog, and the inscription, "piper, play us the white cockade." this can hardly refer to the scottish song and tune. in "stray garlands," b.m. ( , a, b), is "the blue cockade," but this is a fusion of the two ballads. . the sailor's farewell. words and music from j. helmore. a broadside version by williams of portsea, wright of birmingham, b.m. ( , c ). as helmore and his wife sang the verses alternately, we have so arranged it. . a maiden sat a-weeping. words and melody from james parsons. again, from will aggett, chagford, identically the same. in our opinion a delicately beautiful song. the tune probably of the sixteenth century. . the blue kerchief. words and melody from john woodrich, locally known as "ginger jack." the words have appeared, with slight variations, on broadsides in ten verses. catnach issued a parody on it, "the bonny blue jacket." in dr. barrett's "english folk-songs," he uses this tune for "paul jones." . come to my window. this is a very early song, and the melody is found substantially the same from the time of queen elizabeth. in beaumont and fletcher's "knight of the burning pestle," printed in and again in , the merchant sings snatches of the song-- "go from my window, love, go; go from my window, my dear; the wind and the rain will drive you back again, you can not be lodged here. "begone, begone, my juggy, my puggy, begone, my love, my dear! the weather is warm, 'twill do thee no harm, thou canst not be lodged here."--act iii. in fletcher's "monsieur thomas," , a maid sings-- "come to my window, love, come, come, come! come to my window, my dear: the wind and the rain shall trouble thee again, but thou shalt be lodged here."--act iii. sc. iii. in fletcher's "the woman's prize," , jaques says-- "a moral, sir; the ballad will express it: the wind and the rain have turn'd you back again, and you cannot be lodged there."--act i. sc. iii. it is evident that this ballad was very familiar in the latter part of the th century, and we find that on march , - , john wolfe had a licence to print a ballad, entitled "goe from my window." it was one of those early songs parodied in "ane compendious booke of godly and spirituall songs," edinburgh, . this begins-- "quho (who) is at my windo, who, who? goe from my windo; goe, goe. quha calls there, so like a strangere? goe from my windo, goe!" at the end of heywood's "rape of lucrece," , is-- "begone, begone, my willie, my billie, begone, begone, my deere; the weather is warm, 'twill doe thee no harm, thou canst not be lodged here." and in this form it appears in "wit and drollery," , p. . in "pills to purge melancholy," , iv. , is another version of the song, beginning, "arise arise, my juggy, my puggy." the tune is found in what is erroneously called queen elizabeth's "virginal book," and in "a new book of tablature," ; and in morley's "first book of concert lessons," ; and in robinson's "schoole of musick," . in the "dancing master," from to , the tune is given under the title of "the new exchange, or durham stable," but altered into - time to fit it for dancing. the tune in its original form may be seen in chappell, i. p. . chappell has also given a traditional form of the air as obtained at norwich. dr. barrett has given another in his "english folk-songs," no. , but without saying where he picked it up. we obtained ours from john woodrich; he heard it in an ale-house near bideford in , from an old man, who recited a tale, in which the song comes in in snatches. he had been soaked by the rain, and he told the tale as he dried himself by the kitchen fire. the story is this-- two men courted a pretty maid; one was rich, the other poor; and the rich man was old, but she loved the young poor man. her father, in spite of her tears, forced her to marry the rich man; but her other suitor came under her window and tapped, and when the husband was away she admitted him. so passed a twelvemonth, and she had a little child. then, one night, the lover came under the window, thinking her goodman was from home. with his tapping the husband awoke, and asked what the sound was. she said that an ivy leaf, fluttered by the wind, struck the pane. but fearing lest the lover should continue to tap, she began to sing, as she rocked the cradle-- "begone, begone, my willie, my billy, begone my love and my dear. o the wind is in the west and the cuckoo's in his nest, and you cannot have a lodging here." again the lover tapped, and the husband asked what that meant. she said that a bat had flown against the window. then she sang-- "begone, begone, my willie, my billy, begone, my love and my dear. o the weather it is warm and it cannot do thee harm, and thou canst not have a lodging here." then the lover called, and the husband asked what that was. she said it was the hooting of an owl; and then she sang-- "begone, begone, my willie, my billy, begone my love and my dear. o the wind and the rain have brought him back again, but thou canst not have a lodging here." again the lover rapped; then she sprang out of bed, threw abroad the casement, and sang-- "begone, begone, my willy, you silly, begone, my fool and my dear. o the devil's in the man, and he cannot understan', that to-night he cannot have a lodging here." this is almost certainly the original framework to which these snatches of song belong. but there was another version of the story in a ballad entitled "the secret lover, or the jealous father beguil'd, to a west country tune, or alack! for my love and i must dye," printed by p. brooksby, between and , given by mr. ebsworth in the "roxburgh ballads," vi. p. . this begins-- "a dainty spruce young gallant, that lived in the west, he courted a young lady, and real love professt, and coming one night to her, his mind he thus exprest-- and sing, go from my window, love, go! "'what, is my love a sleeping? or is my love awake?' 'who knocketh at the window, who knocketh there so late?' 'it is your true love, lady, that for your sake doth wait.' and sing, go from my window, love, go!" here the father, and not the husband, is the person who is troublesome to the lovers. that this is an adaptation, and not the original form of the story, is obvious from the line-- "and the cuckoo's in his nest," a play on the word cuckold. a still later version, _circ._ , is given by ebsworth, "roxburgh ballads," vi. p. . messrs. moffat and kidson have given the song in the "minstrelsy of england," n.d., but , p. . so also dr. barrett in his "english folk-songs," no. . i have recast the words. the song may derive from a tale used by boccaccio in his "decameron," vii. . . tommy a lynn. this song is alluded to in the "complaynt of scotland," ; it is probably the "ballett of tomalin," licensed to be printed in - . a snatch of it occurs in wager's play: "the longer thou livest the more fool thou art," _circ._ -- "tom a lin and his wife and his wife's mother they got over the bridge all three together. the bridge was broken, and they fell in, the devill go with you all, quoth tom a lin." it was printed in ritson's "north country chorister," durham, ; and it occurs in "the distracted sailor's garland," b.m. ( , , c ). "bryan o' lynn was a gentleman born," as sung by "mr. purcell's celebrated irish vocalists," is in the "dublin comic songster," dublin, . halliwell gives the song in his "popular rhymes," , p. , and one verse in his "nursery rhymes," no. . mr. j. phillips, who founded the aller vale potteries, in a lecture on the condition of dartmoor in , says: "for roughing it on the moor, warm waterproof coats were made by using a sheep's skin, the wool on the inside. warm caps of rabbit skin were common, with lappets over the ears. an old rhyme sung by the boys was-- "old harry trewin, no breeches to wear, he stole a ram's skin to make a new pair. the shiny side out and the woolly side in, and thus doth go old harry trewin." we have taken down the song twice from thomas dart and from james parsons. what "a bone of my stover" signifies i am unable to say. . the green bushes. words and melody taken down from robert hard. another sent me by mr. crossing, heard by him on dartmoor from a labouring man in . the same as this taken down from james parsons. this latter sent by me to miss broadwood, who has published it in her "county songs," p. . in buckstone's play of "the green bushes," , nelly o'neil sings snatches of this song, one verse, "i'll buy you fine petticoats," etc., in act ., and that and the following verse in act iii. nowhere is the complete ballad given. that, however, owing to the popularity of the drama, was published soon after as a "popular irish ballad sung by mrs. fitzwilliam." later it was attributed to the husband of that lady, mr. e.f. fitzwilliam, but it was not published in his lifetime. the words are substantially old, in this form are a softening down of an earlier ballad which has its analogue in scotland, "my daddie is a cankered carle," each verse of which ends-- "for he's low down, he's in the broom that's waiting for me." the english form is "whitsun monday," an early copy of which is in one of the collections in the british museum, date about . each verse ends-- "and 'tis low down in the broom she's waiting there for me." broadsides by disley and such. in a collection of early ballad books in the british museum is "the lady's book of pleasure," printed in cow lane, _circ._ . this contains a ballad that begins-- "as i was a walking one morning in may, i heard a young damsel to sigh and to say, my love is gone from me, and showed me foul play, it was down in the meadow, among the green hay." another, with green bushes in place of green hay, published by hodges of seven dials, b.m. ( , b ). for other versions, see kidson's "traditional tunes"; joyce's "ancient irish music," ; petrie's "ancient music of ireland," . the irish air is not the same as ours. . the broken token. words and melody from robert hard. broadside forms as "the brisk young sailor," or as "fair phoebe"; as "the dark eyed sailor," by such, and wheeler of manchester; and as "the sailor's return," by catnach. a version is published in christie's "traditional ballads," and mr. kidson obtained it in yorkshire to a tune different from ours. the same as ours was noted down by mr. s. reay about - from a ballad singer at durham. . the mole catcher. taken down from j. hockin, south brent, by h. fleetwood sheppard in . the original words were very gross, and i did not note them. in the british museum is an early garland, and in the list of contents on the cover is "the mole catcher," but the song has been torn out, probably for the same reason that prevented me from taking it down. all i copied was the beginning of the song. i have supplemented this with fresh words. . the keenly lode. mr. bussell and i spent a week in at the lugger inn, fowey, collecting songs. we met there one day an old miner, who asked us if we knew "the keenly lode," and on our saying that we did not, he gave us a long song on mining, that, however, lacked point. i have therefore re-composed the song. the air is that employed for "the crocodile," an extravagant ballad, which has been published by miss broadwood in her "county songs." her tune is practically the same as ours, but there are some differences. "the crocodile" is a very popular ballad among old song-men, but no one would care to sing it in a drawing-room or at a concert, because it is vastly silly. "a keenly lode" is a lode that promises well. a "bâll" is a mine in cornish. in cornwall every old man is termed "uncle." we have taken down "the meat pie" to the same air. . may day carol. melody and words noted down a good many years ago by j.s. cayzer, esq. it was sung, till of late years, in my neighbourhood, where a bunch of flowers at the end of a stick was carried about by children. it was customary in england for a lover on may morning to take a green bough to the house of the beloved. if she opened the door and took it in, this was a token of acceptance. at the puritan epoch this custom was altered, and the song was converted into a carol with a moral to it, see "notes and queries," third series, ix. p. ; hone's "every day book," , i. p. ; chambers' "book of days," i. p. . herrick refers to the custom of youths bringing their may bushes to the maids of their choice:-- "a deale of youth ere this is come back, and with white thorn laden home, some have dispatched their cakes and cream, before that we have left to dream." the melody is a very early one in the dorian mode, and resembles that of the carol, "the moon shines bright," broadwood's "county songs," p. . the carol is still sung in cornwall. . the lovers' tasks. this very curious song belongs, as i was told, in cornwall, to a sort of play that was wont to be performed in farmhouses at christmas. one performer, a male, left the room, and entered again singing the first part. a girl, seated on a chair, responded with the second part. the story was this. she had been engaged to a young man who died. his ghost returned to claim her. she demurred to this, and he said that he would waive his claim if she could perform a series of tasks he set her. to this she responded that he must, in the first place, accomplish a set of impossible tasks she would set him. thus was he baffled. "in all stories of this kind," says professor child, "the person upon whom a task is imposed stands acquitted if another of no less difficulty is devised which must be performed first." this ballad and dramatic scene corresponds with that in "cold blows the wind" (no. ). there, in the original, the ghost desires to draw the girl underground, when she is seated on his grave. she objects, and he sets her a task-- "go fetch me a light from dungeon deep, wring water from a stone, and likewise milk from a maiden's breast, that never babe had none." she answers the requirement-- "she stroke a light from out a flint, an icebell squeezed she, and likewise milk from a johnnis' wort, and so she did all three." icebell is icicle. by this means she was quit. in the version i have given i have altered this to suit the song for modern singing. in "the elfin knight," child's "british ballads," no. , an elf appears to the damsel and sets her tasks. if she cannot accomplish these, she must accompany him to the elf world. here we have a substitution of a fairy for a ghost. in an ulster broadside in the british museum ( , k ) we have a later substitution. a low-born gamekeeper gets a damsel of high degree into his power, and will not release her unless she can solve a series of riddles. this she does, and so makes her escape. of the northumbrian ballad, "lay the bent to the bonny broom," child, no. , there are two versions. in one given by miss mason, "nursery rhymes and country songs," a stranger comes to the door of a house where are three sisters, and demands that one shall follow him or answer a series of riddles. then ensues a contest of wit, and the girl escapes the obligation of following the mysterious stranger. who he is is not ascertained. in the other version it is different; he is a knight, and he offers to marry the girl who can solve his riddles. the youngest sister effects this, so he marries her. it is the same in the corresponding cornish ballad of "genefer gentle and rosemarie," originally given by gilbert in his "cornish christmas carols," nd ed., p. , and reprinted by child. to the same category belongs the song, "go no more a-rushing, maids, in may," that we have taken down from several singers, and which is given as well by miss mason, and by chappell, i. p. , where the task is to solve riddles-- "i'll give you a chicken that has no bone, i'll give you a cherry without a stone, i'll give you a ring that has no rim, i'll give you an oak that has no limb." the solution is-- "when the chicken is in the egg it has no bone, when the cherry is in bloom it has no stone, when the ring is a-melting it has no rim, when the oak is in the acorn it has no limb." but the story about the setting of the puzzle has fallen away. we did obtain a ballad in cornwall about the ghost visiting the damsel and demanding that she should keep her engagement, but the metre was not the same as that of the "lovers' tasks." apparently at some remote period a maiden who was pledged to a man was held to belong to him after he was dead, and to be obliged to follow her lover into the world of spirits, unless she could evade the obligation by some clever contrivance. when this idea fell away, either an elf was substituted or a man of low birth, or else the whole story was dropped; or, again, it was so altered that a knight was put in the place of the ghost, and it became the privilege of the shrewd girl who could answer the riddles to be taken as his wife. the setting of hard tasks occurs in german folk-tales, as in "rumpelstiltskin," where the girl has to spin straw into gold. in the "gesta romanorum," ed. osterley, p. , one of the most popular collections of stories in the middle ages, is a corrupt reminiscence of the tale. a king delayed to take a wife till he could find one sagacious enough to make him a shirt without seam out of a scrap of linen three inches square. she retorts that she will do this when he sends her a vessel in which she can do the work. jacques de voragine wrote his "golden legend" in or about . in that he tells this tale. a bishop was about to succumb to the blandishments of the devil in female form, when a pilgrim arrived. either the damsel or the palmer must leave, and which it should be was to be determined by the solution of riddles. the pilgrim solved two. then the fiend in female form asked: "how far is it from heaven to earth?" "that you know best, for you fell the whole distance," replied the palmer, and the fiend vanished. then the pilgrim revealed himself as st. andrew, to whom the bishop had a special devotion. the classic tale of [oe]dipus and the sphinx will be remembered in connection with delivery from death by solving riddles. in norse mythology we have the contest in conundrums between odin and the giant vafthrudnir. the rabbis tell of the queen of sheba proving solomon with hard questions, which are riddles. the historians of tyre, as josephus informs us, recorded that an interchange of riddles went on constantly between solomon and hiram, each being under an engagement to pay a forfeit of money for every riddle that he could not solve. solomon got the best of hiram, till hiram set a tyrian boy to work, who both solved the riddles of solomon, and set others which solomon could not answer. we have a later version of this story in the ballad of king john and the abbot of canterbury, who, unable to solve the king's riddles, set his cowherd to do this, and he accomplished it successfully. we took down the ballad and air from philip symonds of jacobstow, cornwall, also from john hext, two bridges, and from james dyer of mawgan. the burden, "and every grove rings with a merry antine," is curious; _antine_ is antienne--anthem. in "gammer gurton's garland," , the burden is "parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme." in one of motherwell's mss. it stands, "every rose grows merry wi' thyme." these are attempts made to give sense where the meaning of the original word was lost. in _folk-song journal_, vol. i. p. , is a version from sussex: "sing ivy, sing ivy." . lullaby. noted by me from recollection, as sung by a nurse, anne bickle of bratton clovelly, about . james olver of launceston also knew the tune. the words i have re-composed to the best of my ability. . the gipsy countess. the melody of the first part from james parsons, that of the second from john woodrich. versions also from peter cheriton, shoemaker, oakford, near tiverton; william setter and george kerswell, two bridges, dartmoor. robert browning composed on this theme his poem, "the flight of the duchess," having heard a beggar woman sing the ballad. mrs. gibbons told me she heard the whole ballad sung by her nurse in cornwall, about . the scottish version of the ballad is that of "johnny faa," in allan ramsay's "tea-table miscellany," , from which it passed into all collections of scottish songs. allan ramsay's version turns on a story--utterly unhistorical--that lady jean hamilton, married to the grim covenanter, john, earl of cassilis, fell in love with, and eloped with, sir john faa of dunbar, who came to the castle disguised as a gipsy along with some others. she was pursued, and faa and his companions were hung. no such an event took place. the scotch are wont to take an old ballad, give it local habitation and name, and so make it out to be purely scottish. my impression is that this was an old english ballad dealt with by ramsay. it may have been so adapted for political purposes, as a libel on lady cassilis, who was the mother of bishop burnet's wife. an irish form of the ballad in the british museum ( , k ). for a full account of the "johnny faa" ballad, see child's "english and scottish ballads," no. . he is of opinion that the english ballad is taken from the scottish. i think the reverse is the case. parsons sang right through without division of parts. i have made the division, so as to allow of the use of both airs; but actually the second is a modern corruption of the first, and is interesting as showing how completely a melody may undergo transformation. mr. sharp has given a somersetshire version of the ballad in his "folk songs from somerset," no. . . the grey mare. the melody and a fragment of the song were taken down from j. hockin, south brent, and again from james olver. neither could recall all the words. there are two forms of the ballad on broadsides. both are printed by mr. kidson in his "traditional tunes." mr. sheppard recast the words. . the wreck off scilly. words and melody from james parsons. the ballad as sung consisted of seven verses. broadside by catnach. the last verse in this is nonsense, and i have re-written this verse. under the title "the rocks of scilly," it occurs, in twenty-two verses, in "the sailor's tragedy," glasgow, . . henry martyn. words and melody from roger luxton, halwell. again, from matthew baker, james parsons, and from a shepherd on dartmoor. the versions slightly differed, as far as words went. in one, henry martyn receives his death-wound; in another, it is the king's ship that is sunk by the pirate. mr. kidson has printed two versions of the song in his "traditional tunes," from yorkshire sources. miss broadwood has also collected it, _folk-song journal_, vol. i. p. , in sussex. henry martyn is a corruption of andrew barton. in , a portuguese squadron seized a richly laden ship, commanded by john barton, in consequence of which letters of reprisal were granted by james iv. to the three sons, andrew, robert, and john, and these were renewed in . hall, in his "chronicle," under , says that king henry viii. being at leicester, tidings reached him that andrew barton so stopped the king's ports that the merchant vessels could not pass out, and he seized their goods, pretending that they were portuguese. sir edward howard, lord high admiral, and sir thomas howard were sent against him. their two ships were separated, but a fight ensued, in which andrew was wounded, and his vessel, the _lion_, was taken. he died of his wounds. the ballad was re-composed in the reign of james i., and this is published in percy's "relicks" and in evans' "old ballads." for an account of sir andrew barton, see child's "english and scottish ballads," no. . the ballad in full in percy's ms. book is in sixty-four stanzas. our form of the ballad is probably earlier, but it is incomplete. i have added the last verse to give a finish to the story. the tune is in the Ã�olian mode. . plymouth sound. melody taken down from roger luxton to a song of this name. there are three songs that go by the title of "plymouth sound" on broadsides, by keys, of devonport, and by such; but all are coarse and undesirable. i have therefore written fresh words to this delicious air. . the fox. in the early part of last century this song was sung at all harvest suppers in the west of england. it is known elsewhere, but not to the same tune. a version of "the fox" in the tenth volume of "notes and queries," , is spoken of as "an old cornish song." in "gammer gurton's garland," _circ._ , is one verse of the song. it occurs in "the opera, or cabinet of song," edinburgh, . halliwell, in his "nursery rhymes," percy soc., , gives a fuller version than ours. he begins-- "the fox and his wife they had a great strife, they never eat mustard in all their life; they eat their meat without fork or knife, and loved to be picking a bone, e-no!" in a collection of songs in the british museum is the ballad on a broadside by harkness of birmingham. it begins-- "the fox went out of a moon-shiny night, when the moon and the stars they shined so bright; i hope, said the fox, we'll have a good night, when we go to yonder town, o! mogga, mogga, reynard. the wheel it goes round, and we'll tally-ho th' hounds, and i wish i was through the town, o!" the tune we give was taken down from james parsons. there were two other airs to which it was sung in other parts of england. these i give-- [music: the fox, ii.] [music: iii.] . furze bloom. the melody from roger luxton to the words of the ballad, "gosport beach," which could not possibly be inserted here. i have accordingly written fresh words to it, embodying the folk-saying in devon and cornwall-- "when the furze is out of bloom, then love is out of tune." . the oxen ploughing. this song was known throughout devon and cornwall at the beginning of the th century. it went out of use along with the oxen at the plough. we found every old singer had heard it in his boyhood, but none could recall more than snatches of the tune and some of the words. we were for three years on its traces, always disappointed. then we heard that there was an old man at liskeard who could sing the song through. mr. sheppard and i hastened thither, to find that he had been speechless for three days, and that his death was hourly expected. one day i found an old white-headed and white-bearded man cutting ferns in the hedges at trebartha in cornwall. his name was adam landry. we got into conversation. i had heard he was a singer, and i asked after this especial song. he knew it. i sat down among the cut fern and learned it from him, singing it over and over till i had it by heart, and then drove home eighteen miles, warbling it the whole way, and went to my piano and fixed it. later we found a labouring man, joseph dyer, at mawgan-in-pyder, who could sing the song through. mr. sharp has also taken this down note for note in north devon from an old farmer, mr. lake of worlington, who remembered the use of oxen ploughing. a very similar folk-song is found in france, with its refrain, naming the oxen-- "aronda, vironda, charbonné, maréchaô, motet et roget, mortaigne et chollet, ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! mon mignon, he! he! he! he! he! he! mon valet." see george sand's account of the song in "le mare au diable," c. ; tiersot, _op. cit._, p. . . flora, the lily of the west. two melodies have been noted down to this ballad, one from matthew baker, the old cripple on lew down, the other from samuel fone. the first is identical with one obtained in yorkshire by mr. kidson. the words are on broadsheets by such, fortey, barr of leeds, etc. in the original the lover betrayed by flora stabs to the heart the "lord of high degree" who has supplanted him-- "i walked up to my rival with a dagger in my hand, and seized him from my false love, and bid him boldly stand; then, mad with desperation, i swore i'd pierce his breast, and i was betrayed by flora, the lily of the west." he is tried for murder, but "a flaw was in the indictment found," and he escapes the gallows. and the ballad winds up-- "although she swore my life away, she still disturbs my rest, i must ramble for my flora, the lily of the west." i have thought it well to cut out the murder and the trial. the ballad has clearly an irish origin, what air is used for it in ireland i am unable to say. it has been generally accepted that the ending of a phrase on the same three notes is characteristic of irish music. it is not more so than of english folk airs. "flora, the lily of the west" was wont to be sung annually at the revel at st. breward's on the bodmin moors, and can be traced back there to . there henry hawken, sexton at michaelstow, hard by, acquired it, and from him the first melody was taken down as well by the rev. w.j. wyon, vicar of st. issey, in . . the simple ploughboy. this charming ballad was taken down, words and music, from j. masters, bradstone. the broadside versions that were published by fortey, hodges, taylor of spitalfields, ringham of lincoln, and pratt of birmingham, are all very corrupt. the version of old masters is given exactly as he sang it, and it is but one instance out of many of the superiority of the ballads handed down traditionally in the country by unlettered men, to those picked up from the ballad-mongers employed by the broadside publishers. a version of the song, "it's of a pretty ploughboy," is given in the _folk-song journal_, vol. i. p. , as taken down in sussex. the words are very corrupt, and they closely resemble those on broadsides. . fair lady pity me. taken down from a labouring man at exbourne. the melody is ancient and dates from the tudor period. the words are a fragment from "the noble lord's cruelty," "roxburgh ballads," ed. ebsworth, vi. - . its date is before . but that was to be sung to the tune, "dainty come thou to me," which is in chappell, ii. p. . a ballad, "the four wonders of the land," printed by p. brocksby, - , was set to the tune, "dear love regard my grief," which are the initial words of this song, and shows that already the long ballad had been broken up. this song has already been given, arranged by dr. bussell, who took it down, in "english minstrelsie," iv. p. . . the painful plough. words and melody from roger huggins, mason, lydford. it is in reality a much longer song. under the title of "the ploughman's glory" it runs to verses. bell gives in his "ballads of the english peasantry." it is found on broadsides. in the original it consists of a contention between a ploughman and a gardener as to which exercises the noblest profession. our air is not the same as that to which the song is sung in the midlands and south-east of england. dr. barrett gives the song in his "english folk-songs," no. , to a north country air. . at the setting of the sun. this very curious ballad has been taken down twice, from samuel fone by mr. sheppard, and again by mr. cecil sharp from the singing of louie hooper and lucy white at hambridge, somerset, to a different air. fone had forgotten portions of the song. the man who mistakes his true love for a swan because she had thrown her apron over her head as a protection from the rain is tried at the assizes for the murder-- "in six weeks' time when the 'sizes came on, young polly appeared in the form of a swan, crying jimmy, young jimmy, young jimmy is clear, he never shall be hung for the shooting of his dear." and he is, of course, acquitted. in fone's version she appears in dream to her lover as a swan, and comforts him, but the sequel of the story he could not recall. the ballad is found in a fragmentary condition in kent-- "o cursed be my uncle for lendin' of a gun. for i've bin' and shot my true love in the room of a swan." and the apparition of the girl says-- "with my apron tied over me, i 'peared like unto a swan, and underneath the green tree while the showers did come on." this was heard in , sung by a very old man at a harvest supper at haverstall doddington, near faversham. the transformation of the damsel into a swan stalking into the court is an early feature, and possibly the ballad may be a degraded form of a very ancient piece. this ballad, arranged as a song with accompaniment by mr. ferris tozer, has been published by messrs. weeks. mr. sharp has given the song to a different air in his "folk-songs from somerset," no. . . all jolly fellows that follow the plough. this song is very generally known. we have picked up four variants of the tune. miss broadwood gives one from oxfordshire and one from hampshire, but hers lack the chorus. mr. c. sharp has also gathered three. he says: "i find that almost every singer knows it, the bad singers often know but little else. perhaps it is for this reason that the tune is very corrupt, the words are almost always the same." in the second verse we have the breakfast described as consisting of bread and cheese and stingo. in miss broadwood's version the breakfast consists of cold beef and pork; the drink is not specified. . the golden vanity. taken down, words and air, from james oliver. the ballad was printed as "sir walter raleigh sailing in the lowlands, showing how the famous ship called the _sweet trinity_ was taken by a false galley; and how it was recovered by the craft of a little sea-boy, who sunk the galley," by coles, wright, vere, and conyers ( - ). in this it is said that the ballad is to be sung "to the tune of the lowlands of holland," and in it there is ingratitude shown to the poor sea-boy of a severe character. in this version there are fourteen verses. it begins-- "sir walter raleigh has built a ship, in the netherlands. and it is called the _sweet trinity_, and was taken by the false gallaly, sailing in the lowlands." it has been reprinted in child, no. , as also the earliest form of the ballad from the pepys collection. by writing some of the words as "awa'" and "couldna'," it has been turned into a scottish ballad. under the form of "the goulden vanity," it is given with an air (of no value) in mrs. gordon's "memoirs of christopher north," , ii. p. , as sung at a convivial meeting at lord robertson's, by mr. p. fraser of edinburgh. we obtained the same ballad at chagford as "the yellow golden tree." "sir walter raleigh," says mr. ebsworth, in his introduction to the ballad in the "roxburgh ballads" (v. p. ), "never secured the popularity, the natural affection which were frankly given to robert devereux, the earl of essex. raleigh was deemed arrogant, selfish, with the airs of an upstart, insolent to superiors, unconciliating with equals, and heartlessly indifferent to those in a lower position. the subject of the ballad is fictitious--sheer invention, of course. the selfishness and ingratitude displayed by raleigh agreed with the current estimate. he certainly had a daughter." in the ballad in the pepys collection the _sweet trinity_, a ship built by sir walter raleigh, has been taken by a galley of a nationality not specified. he asks whether any seaman will take the galley and redeem his ship: the reward shall be a golden fee and his daughter. a ship-boy volunteers and with his auger bores fifteen holes in the galley and sinks her, and releases the _sweet trinity_. then he swims back to his ship and demands his pay. the master will give golden fee but not his daughter. the ship-boy says, farewell, since you are not so good as your word. in the stall copy of the ballad, the master refuses to take the boy on board after he had sunk the galley, and threatens to shoot him, and the boy is drowned. then he is picked up, is sewed in a cow-hide and thrown overboard. mr. kidson has obtained no less than four different versions from sailors. a version from sussex is in _folk-song journal_, vol. i. p. . another in miss broadwood's "english county songs." it is also in ferris tozer's "sailors' songs and chanties." the black letter ballad of "sir walter raleigh sailing in the lowlands low ... or the _sweet trinity_" was priced in russell smith's catalogue, £ , s. . the bold dragoon. words and melody taken down by w. crossing, esq., many years ago, from a labouring man on dartmoor, now dead. the words were very corrupt. we took down the words and tune from moses cleve at huckaby bridge, dartmoor. an early version of the words as "the jolly trooper," in "the lover's garland," n.d., but of the beginning of the th century. the original is too coarse for reproduction and is lengthy. i have condensed the ballad and softened it down. the press mark in the british museum is , , c . . trinity sunday. melody noted down by t.s. cayzer, esq., in , at post bridge, from a moor man. the original words were unsuitable, a broadside ballad of a murder.[ ] i have written fresh words. [footnote : printed on broadside by catnach as "oxford city."] in connection with this charming air, i will give mr. cayzer's account of taking it down in , which he has kindly extracted for me from his diary:--"this air, together with 'as johnny walked out' (no. ), i got from dartmoor; nor shall i soon forget the occasion. the scene was a lonely one (i think two bridges, but it may have been post bridge). it had been raining all day. there was not a book in the house, nor musical instrument of any kind, except two hungry pigs and a baby that was being weaned. towards nightfall there dropped in several miners and shepherds, and i well remember how the appearance of these gentiles cheered us. we soon got up a glorious fire--such a fire as peat only can make, and drew the benches and settles round. by the friendly aid of sundry quarts of cyder i, before long, gained the confidence of the whole circle, and got a song from each in turn; and noted down two that were quite new to me: no easy matter, considering that they were performed in a strange mixture of double bass and falsetto. the action with which they accompanied the singing was extremely appropriate. they always sing standing." many a similar evening have mr. sheppard, mr. bussell, and i spent in like manner over the peat fire with the burly, red-faced moor men and shepherds, standing to sing their quaint old songs, and very happy evenings they have been. the same melody was taken down by miss wyatt edgell from an old woman near exeter, in . the words sung to it related to the same oxford tragedy, but were a version different from the stall copy. . the blue flame. melody taken down by mr. w. crossing, from an old moor man, to "rosemary lane." roger luxton and james parsons also sang "rosemary lane" to the same air. the words are objectionable. moreover, in other parts of england, this broadside song is always sung to one particular air. we therefore thought it well to put to our melody entirely fresh words. it was a common belief in the west of england that a soul after death appeared as a blue flame; and that a flame came from the churchyard to the house of one doomed to die, and hovered on the doorstep till the death-doomed expired, when the soul of the deceased was seen returning with the other flame, also as a flame, to the churchyard. . strawberry fair. melody taken down from james masters. this is a very old song. it is found with music in "songs and madrigals of the th century," published by the old english plain-song society, . the ballad was recast "kytt has lost her key," which is given by dr. rimbault in his "little book of songs and ballads gathered from ancient music books," , p. . we have been forced to re-write the words, which were very indelicate. the air was used, in or about , by beuler, a comic song writer, for "the devil and the hackney coachman"-- "ben was a hackney coachman sure, jarvey! jarvey!--here i am, your honour." i have never found a singer who had any knowledge of beuler's song, but all have heard "strawberry fair," and some men of seventy or eighty years of age say they learned it from their fathers. . the country farmer's son. taken down from james woolrich, a labourer, at broadwood widger. the original ballad, "the constant farmer's son," is found on a broadside by ross of newcastle. i have re-written the song. the fine, robust tune belongs to the end of the th century. see _folk-song journal_, i. p. . . the hostess' daughter. taken down from j. masters, bradstone. the coarseness of the original words obliged me to re-write the song. . the jolly goss-hawk. melody taken down from h. westaway to "the nawden song," which begins-- "i went to my lady the first of may, a jolly goss-hawk and his wings were grey, come let us see who'll win my fair ladye--you or me." to the nd of may is "a two twitty bird," then "a dushy cock," a "four-legged pig," "five steers," "six boars," "seven cows calving," "eight bulls roaring," "nine cocks crowing," "ten carpenters yawing," "eleven shepherds sawing," "twelve old women scolding." mr. c. sharp has taken it down in somersetshire. a scottish version in chambers' "popular rhymes of scotland," ; as "the yule days," a northumbrian version; "the xii. days of christmas," with air not like ours, in "northumbrian minstrelsy," newcastle, , p. . a breton version, "gousper ou ar ranad" in "chansons populaires de la basse bretagne," by luzel, , p. . the west of england song has got mixed up with the "goss hawk," another song. see "the fond mother's garland," b.m. ( , , c ). a companion song to this is "the bonny bird," given further on in this collection, no. . the song, in devonshire, goes by the name of "the nawden song." . the song of the moor. the melody was taken down at merrivale bridge, dartmoor, from a quarryman named nankivel, commonly known as "old capul." to this air he sang a farcical ballad, "the infant," quite unworthy of it. i have, accordingly, written fresh words to a really good swinging tune. the original began as follows-- "o when i was an infant, to london i did go, among the french and spaniards my gallantry to show. and when i reached the eastern shore, i let my head hang down, i tripped over baganells (?) and never touched the ground. fal-de-ral-de, etc. "so when i reached the eastern shore, i met a giant high, he lookèd down upon me, and bade me pass him by. he challenged me to dance and sing, to whistle and to run, i beat him out of all his wits, and kill'd him when i'd done. "the people in amazement stood, to see what i had done, they gave me silver plate, about a fifty ton. i made myself a little box, about three acres square, i filled it to the very top, with my bright silver ware." and so on through a string of absurdities. it is apparently a modernised version of "the jovial broomman," by r. climsall, published by r. harper, - . "roxburgh ballads," ed. chappell, i. p. . . on a may morning so early. this melody belongs to the ballad "i'm seventeen on sunday." this begins-- "as i walked out one may morning, one may morning so early, o there i spied a fair pretty maid all on the dew so pearly. with a fa-la-la, with a fa-la-la, all on the dew so pearly. "o where are you going my fair pretty maid? o where are you going my lambie? then cheerfully she answered me, on an errand for my mammie. "how old are you, my fair pretty maid? how old are you, my honey? then cheerfully she answered me, i'm seventeen on sunday." for good reasons we could not give the words as taken down, so mr. sheppard wrote fresh words to the tune. the ballad was obtained from roger huggins, lydford, and from william bickle, bridestowe, but it is known and sung throughout devon and cornwall. the original ballad was altered by burns to "the waukrife mammy" for johnson's "museum," iv. p. , and allan cuningham also arranged a song on the same theme, as the original was objectionable. lyle gives it in his "ballads," , saying: "this ballad, in its original dress, at one time, from my recollection, was not only extremely popular, but a great favourite among the young peasantry of the west of scotland. to suit the times, however, we have been necessitated to throw out the intermediate stanzas, as their freedom would not bear transcription, whilst the second and third have been slightly altered from the recited copy." an irish version (re-written) to the irish air, by joyce, "ancient irish music," , no. . he says: "i cannot tell when i learned the air and words of this song, for i have known them as long as my memory can reach back. for several reasons [the original words] could not be presented to the reader." burns, when forwarding the ditty to johnson, said of it: "i picked up this old song and tune from a country girl in nithsdale; i never met with it elsewhere in scotland." the words may be found on broadsheets, printed by such and by bebbington, manchester. mr. kidson has recovered several versions in yorkshire, and one is given in the _folk-song journal_, vol. i. p. , as taken down in sussex, and two were in vol. ii. p. noted down by mr. sharp in somerset. our tune is in the dorian mode. . the spotted cow. words and air from james parsons, j. helmore, h. smith, and j. woodrich. mr. sharp has also taken it down in n. devon and in somerset. the earliest form of the words is found in a garland printed by angus of newcastle, b.m. ( , , c ). there are later broadside versions. the words also in fairburne's "everlasting songster," _circ._ . mr. kidson gives the song in his "traditional tunes," p. , but to a melody different from ours. about dr. berg set the song, recast in a scotch form: "as jamie gang'd blithe his way along the banks of tweed," to be sung at ranelagh. as sung, the ballad consists of four lines in a stanza, and the two last are repeated; and it is in seven stanzas. to shorten the ballad i have made each stanza consist of six lines. our tune is not that of dr. berg. but it is redolent of the art-music of the th or early th century, and hardly possesses the character of folk-made song. still, it is very freely sung by old people in devon and somerset. . three jovial welshmen. taken down from "old capul," nankivel, merrivale bridge. the song is given in halliwell's "nursery rhymes of england," . it is probably a very old ballad, for in a ballad, "choice of inventions," printed by f. coles, - , in the roxburgh collection (ed. chappell, i. p. ), is given a pot-pourri of scraps, "several sorts of the figure three," and it begins-- "there were three men of gotham, as i've heard say, that needs would ride a hunting upon st. david's day. through all the day they hunting were, yet no sport could they see, untill they spide an owle as she sate on a tree. the first man said 'twas a goose, the second man said nay, the third man said 'twas a hawke, but his bells were falne away." the tune to which it was to be sung was "rock the cradle, sweet john," for which, see chappell, i. p. . another, and more modern version, is that of "the three jovial huntsmen"-- "it's of three jovial huntsmen an' a hunting they did go; an' they hunted, an' they hallo'd, an' they blew their horns also," which has been illustrated by caldecott. the original ballad is in "the woody chorister," b.m. ( , e ). this is one of the ballads mr. incledon johns heard sung on the outskirts of dartmoor in , mentioned in his book, already noticed, published in . a version, "six jovial welshmen," is given in vol. i. p. , _folk-song journal_, from sussex. it runs-- "it's of six jovial welshmen, six jovial men were they, and they would all a hunting ride, upon st. david's day. then fill each glass and let it pass, no sign of care betray, we'll drink and sing, 'long live the king!' upon st. david's day." "when crook-back'd richard wore the crown, as regent of the land, no policy could pull him down, nor his proud foe withstand. a tribute he from them did seek, which they refused to pay, and in their caps they wore a leek, upon st. david's day. then fill each glass, and let it pass, etc." this is probably a re-edition of the older song. . well met, well met, my own true love. the words are a cento from the lengthy ballad of the "carpenter's wife," which, as we have taken it down, consists of twenty verses. the black letter broadside, "the carpenter's wife," is a peculiarly interesting ballad. it is the story of one jane reynolds of plymouth, who had plighted her troth to a seaman. as they were about to be married, he was pressed and carried off to sea. three years later, news arrived that he was dead, and then she married a carpenter, and lived with him for five years, and bore him three children. at the end of seven years an evil spirit assumed the likeness of her dead lover, and appeared to her, and induced her to leave with him. he carried her off, and she was never seen again. the husband, in despair, hung himself. such is the theme of a lengthy ballad in the roxburgh collection, ed. chappell, iii. p. . there are copies as well in the pepys and ewing collections. it was printed by f. coles ( - ), gilbertson ( - ), vere ( - ), and w. oney ( - ). it was a sorry composition. now, the traditional ballad, as compared with the printed ballad, is superior at every point. it begins abruptly with the address of the sailor to the carpenter's wife, without the long story that precedes his attempt to cajole her to elope. moreover, there is in it no intimation that the tempter is an evil spirit in the form of the dead lover, and when she has eloped, she pines not for three, but for her one babe, whom she has deserted. thirteen of the verses of the traditional ballad are found in "the rambler's garland," b.m. ( , c ). a form closely resembling our devon ballad is in buchan's "ballads of the north of scotland," i. p. , but is longer, consisting of twenty-six stanzas. kinloch, motherwell, and laidlaw have also portions of it. laidlaw, in a letter to scott, january , , says of the ballad, as sung to him by walter grieve: "he likewise sung part of a very beautiful ballad which i think you will not have seen.... the tune is very solemn and melancholy, and the effect is mixed with a considerable proportion of horror." see child, no. . the printed ballad that is in the roxburgh collection is, i feel convinced, a clumsy re-writing of the earlier ballad, so as to convey a moral, as its title implies, "a warning to married women." james harris is the demon lover. in the traditional ballad, when the carpenter's wife has eloped, she falls into deep depression-- "i do not weep for your gold, she said, nor do i weep for your fee, but by the masthead stands my baby dead, and i weep, i weep for my dead babie.... "she had not a-been upon the seas but six days of the week, before that she lay as cold as clay and never a word, one word did speak. "they had not a-been upon the seas of weeks but three and four, but down to the bottom the ship did swim and never was heard of, heard of more." there is another ballad running on somewhat similar lines, "the undutiful daughter," who is in like manner enticed away; but the ship will not proceed, and lots are cast who is to be thrown overboard. the lot falls on the girl, and she is cast into the sea, but the body swims before the ship and reaches land first. this ballad we have taken down several times. the last verse (six) i have added to make some sort of conclusion to the song. what the air is to which the ballad is sung in scotland i do not know. . poor old horse. words and melody from matthew baker. the song is given in bell's "ballads of the english peasantry," p. , as sung by the mummers in the neighbourhood of richmond, yorkshire. he says: "the rustic actor who sings this song is dressed as an old horse, and at the end of every verse the jaws are snapped in chorus. it is a fine composition, and is now ( ) printed for the first time." this is not so; it has long existed on broadside by hodges of seven dials, and such, etc. the midland air of the song in mason's "nursery rhymes and country songs," . mr. kidston has obtained several versions of the song in yorkshire and lancashire. a fine setting was sung at the folk-song competition at kendal in . it is given in _folk-song journal_, vol. i. pp. and . in "sailors' songs and chanties," boosey & co., the song is given under the title of "the dead horse." in derbyshire, at christmas, boys and young men were wont, and may be still are wont, to go about, one dressed as a horse, with a horse's skull in his hands or affixed to his head; then this song was sung by the attendants and money asked for the feeding of the beast, and the head was made to snap its jaws. the song is also given in topcliff's "melodies of the tyne and wear," n.d., but _circ._ , and is also found on broadsides by such. mr. sharp has given a version in his "folk-songs from somerset," no. . . the dilly song. an almost endless number of versions of this song have been taken down, and have been sent to us. it is known throughout cornwall, and is, indeed, still sung in the chapels. when a party of amateurs performed the "songs of the west" in cornwall, , the dilly song always provoked laughter among the good folk at the back of the halls. this puzzled the performers, till they learned that folk laughed because this was their familiar chapel hymn. in the text i have given the version of the words with least of the religious element in them. here are some of the other versions-- . "god's own son, or christ's natures"; or "the strangers o'er the wide world rangers"; or "the lily-white maids." . "three is all eternity"; "three are the thrones." the strangers are probably the wise men from the east. . "the gospel preachers"; "the evangelists." . "the ferryman in the boat"; "the nimble waiters." . "the cherubim watchers"; "the crucifix"; "the cherrybird waiters." . "the crown of heaven"; "the seven stars." . "the great archangel"; "the angels"; "the daybreak." . "the nine delights," _i.e._ the joys of mary; "the moonshine." . "the commandments"; "begin again." . "the eleven disciples"; "they that go to heaven." there are similar verses in german and flemish; a scottish version in chambers' "popular rhymes," , p. . also found in brittany: luzel, "chansons populaires," , p. . there is a mediæval latin form, beginning "unus est deus." a hebrew form is printed in mendez: "service for the first night of the passover," london, ; a moravian form in wenzig: "slavischer märchen-schatz," , p. . it is also sung in the eifel, schmitz: "sitten u. bräuche des eifler volkes," trier, , p. . a greek form is in sanders: "volksleben der neugriechen." see also: coussemaker, "chants populaires des flamands," gand, ; villemarqué, barzas breis, , and later editions. the lily-white boys are probably the gemini, or sign for spring. in the "queen-like closet, or rich cabinet," , are instructions for embroidering emblems of the months. "may is to be clothed in a robe of _white and green_, and his sign must be gemini." "the ferryman in the boat" is perhaps charon. in other versions five is the dilly-bird, or the dilly-hour, "when blooms the dilly-flower." some are obviously merely adopted as rhymes, as "six the crucifix." in cornwall and devon the song goes by the name of "the dilly song." what the meaning of "dilly" is must remain uncertain. possibly it signifies the festal song (welsh, _dillyn_, pretty, gay). the song used to be sung by eton boys. it was introduced by sir arthur sullivan into "the yeomen of the guard"; he, i believe, heard it sung by a sailor. his melody bears a certain relationship to ours. the song requires to be sung by at least two persons, a questioner and the responder. . country dance. this dance tune, called "the mallard," because of some silly words that go to it relative to the gobbling up of a mallard. it begins-- "oh, what have i ate, and what have i ate? i have eaten the toe of a mallard. toe and toe, nevins and all, and i have been to ballery allery, and so good meat was the mallard." the singer proceeds to eat the foot, then the leg, the thigh, the rump, the wing, the back, the breast, the neck, the head; and then the dance was concluded. a breton version in luzel, p. . i have written fresh words to the tune. this tune is in the dorian mode. as sung by j. masters, the e was sharpened in the rd bar but flattened on the repetition of the same phase in the penultimate bar. mr. sheppard, when arranging the song, flattened the e throughout. it must be one thing or the other. flattened throughout, it makes a charming melody, but the last flattened e was probably due to the singer's memory failing him in the latter part of the air, but serving him at the beginning of the tune. mr. sharp has accordingly retained the e natural throughout. the opening phrase is similar to the plain-song easter carol, "_o filii et filiæ_." this was a melody used in french folk-song for the welcoming in of spring. in fact, a may song. it forced its way into the service of the church, and was adopted and used for the easter sequence. see tiersot, _op. cit._, pp. , . it is certainly curious finding the same in devonshire folk-music. neither mr. sheppard nor i observed it; it was pointed out by mr. sharp. . constant johnny. words and melody taken down from roger luxton. it was a dialogue, and so mr. sheppard had arranged it. such lover dialogues are and were very commonly sung in farmhouses. ravenscroft gives one in broad devonshire in his "brief discourse," , entitled, "hodge trellindle and his zweethart malkyn." our ballad seems to be based on "doubtful robin and constant nanny," _circ._ , in the "roxburgh ballads." these dialogue songs between a lover and his lass were very popular. addison, in _the guardian_ of , gives snatches of a west country ballad of this kind, and shows how vastly superior it is to the pastorals of dresden china shepherds and shepherdesses of pope and philips. . the duke's hunt. words and melody taken from james olver, again at stoke gabriel, again at mary tavy, again at menheniot. this is a mere cento from a long ballad, entitled "the fox chase," narrating a hunt by villiers, second duke of buckingham, in the reign of charles ii. it is in the roxburgh collection, and was printed by w. oury, _circ._ . the ballad is there said to be sung "to an excellent tune, much in request." we suspect that the melody we give is the original tune handed down traditionally, and never before published. mr. sharp has noted down the same song and melody from a singer at east harptree, somerset. . the bell ringing. words and air from william george kerswell, two bridges, dartmoor; sung also by james down, blacksmith, broadwood widger. broadbury down is the highest ridge of land between dartmoor and the atlantic. . a nutting we will go. taken down from j. gerrard, an old man, nearly blind, at cullyhole, near chagford, from robert hard, and again at menheniot, and also from james parsons. bunting, in his "irish melodies," , gives the same tune to a fragment of the same words, and says that he took it down in from duncan, a harper. duncan remembered a portion of a tune he had heard, perhaps, from english soldiers, and eked it out with some other tune. then came s. lover, and he took this air from bunting, and wrote to it "the lowbacked car." but the original melody is found, not only in devon and cornwall, but also in the north, and mr. kidson gives it in his "traditional tunes," as "with henry hunt we'll go," a song sung in manchester in connection with the arrest of hunt in . to the same air was set "the plains of waterloo." "the lowbacked car" has become popular through its words, and the inartistic quality of a patchwork tune has been forgiven for their sake. the words "the nutgirl" occur on broadsides by fortey, such, etc. see ballads collected by crampton, b.m. ( , , h), and ( , b ); but these are without the chorus. the printed broadside has lost somewhat. for gerard's-- "his voice rang out so clear and stout, it made the horse-bells ring," it gives-- "his voice was so melodious, it made the valleys ring." the broadside ballad consists of fourteen verses, and is very gross. i have had to considerably tone down the words. an earlier broadside by pitts has the chorus. the same air was employed for the ballads, "in january last, on monday at morn," for "the brags of washington," , for "calder fair," and "to rodney we will go." it is given in the third edition of "scotch, irish, and foreign airs," glasgow, . a version is in _folk-song journal_, vol. i. p. , as taken down in sussex. this version begins-- "and as this brisk young farmer was ploughing up his land, he called to his horses and bade them gently stand. he sat himself down a song to begin, his voice was so melodious, made the valleys to ring. and as this brisk young damsel was nutting in the wood, his voice was so melodious, it charmed her as she stood; she had no longer power in that lonely wood to stay, and what few nuts she'd got, poor girl, she threw them all away." . down by a river side. taken down from the singing of james townsend, holne. he had learned it from his grandfather, who had been parish clerk of holne for fifty years and died in , over eighty years old. a version, recovered in surrey, is given in the _folk-song journal_, vol. i. p. . . the barley rakings. taken down from roger hannaford, lower widdecombe, dartmoor. the words exist in broadside versions by such, bingham of lincoln, robertson of wigton, etc. such's version consists of six verses, the others of four. hannaford's verses and were unlike those of bingham and robertson, but resembled and of such. he had not and of such. he had a curious line in verse : "they had a mind to _style_ and play" (the anglo-saxon _styllan_, to leap or dance), not found in the printed copies. as none of these versions would be tolerable to polite ears, mr. sheppard has modified the words considerably. the melody to which "barley rakings" is sung in other parts of england is wholly different. ours is probably an early dance tune, originally in the mixolydian mode, which has undergone modification in oral transmission. . a ship came sailing over the sea. this curious song was obtained by the late rev. s.m. walker of saint enoder, cornwall, from a very old man in his parish, and it was sent me by miss octavia l. hoare. we heard the same from old sally satterley at huckaby bridge, dartmoor. she was the daughter of an old crippled singing man on the moor. i have told the story of the way in which she as a young bride with her husband took possession of a house built all in one day, in my dartmoor idylls, "jolly lane cott." sally is now dead, and her house has been rebuilt and vulgarised. one verse, running-- "i put my finger into the bush thinking the sweetest rose to find, i prickt my finger to the bone, and yet i left the rose behind," is found in "the distressed virgin," a ballad by martin parker, printed by j. coles, - . parker seems to have taken the lines into his ballad from one previously existing. two of the stanzas, and , occur in the scottish song, "wally, wally up the bank," in "orpheus caledonicus," , no. ; the stanzas and in the song in "the scot's musical museum," - , vi. p. . in "the wandering lover's garland," _circ._ , are two of the verses worked into another ballad. we took down the song a third time from william nichols of whitchurch, near tavistock. it was a song of his grandmother's, who seventy years ago was hostess of the village inn. . the rambling sailor. words and music from roger hannaford. a hornpipe tune. there are several versions of this on broadsides. originally the song was "the rambling soldier," and so appears at the middle and latter end of the th century. then some poetaster of catnach's re-wrote it as "the rambling sailor," destroying all the point and wit of the original, which wit and point were not very choice. but as in the west, the ditty is set to a hornpipe tune, we have retained the song as one of a sailor, only modifying the words where objectionable. the earliest copy of "the rambling soldier" that i have seen was in the possession of dr. barrett; a later copy, _circ._ , by whiting of birmingham, ballads, b.m. ( , c ). "the rambling sailor," by disley, _circ._ , in ballads collected by crampton, b.m. ( , ), vol. viii. mr. sharp has taken this song and air down in n. devon and somerset four or five times, in every case with a flattened th in the mixolydian mode. our version is clearly a modernised edition of the older tune. . willie combe. this ballad is known throughout the length and breadth of cornwall, but it is sometimes mixed up with another, "the alternon volunteer." we have taken it down at least a score of times. some of those from whom we have had it are thomas morris, parish clerk of fowey; j. libby, coachman at tredethy, bodmin; anthony pascoe, liskeard; and anne painter, east looe. the incident referred to in the ballad is the accidental shooting of william combe or coome of st. agnes, at the revel or village feast at crantock in . in the parish register at this date is the entry: "william coome of st. agnes, a youth about years of age, who att the ffeast att this parish rec'd his death of a shot; buried may ." crantock feast is on may . there are a good many more verses in the original than are here given. they have no poetic merit; and the tune is not very original, but has a certain plaintive sweetness. . midsummer carol. words and tune from william aggett of chagford. a very early and curious melody of the same date as the "may day carol," no. ; and the words belong to a similar custom. compare with this "lemonday" in our "garland of country songs." originally doubtless an Ã�olian, perhaps a dorian tune, that has been corrupted and modernised. . the blackbird. the melody and words taken down from james parson, roger hannaford, and john voysey, labourer, lew down. i re-wrote the ballad for the first edition, but in this i have restored the original words, only slightly modifying them. a broadside version has nine stanzas, and ends-- "so here's a health to the bird in the bush, likewise to the linnet and thrush; for birds of a feather will all flock together, let their parents say little or much." the same ballad in lyle's collection, , "from recollection; air plaintive and pastoral." a broadside version of this ballad in nine stanzas by williamson of newcastle. song and air are given also in kidson's "traditional tunes," , as taken down in yorkshire; but that version of the melody is inferior to ours. a welsh version of the tune comes nearer to ours. . the green bed. taken down from j. masters. we heard "the outlandish knight" sung to the same melody by richard gregory on dartmoor. "the green bed" exists as a broadside ballad in six double verses. mr. sheppard has re-written the ballad, and has condensed the story. the air somewhat resembles "the girl i left behind me." see "philander's garland," _circ._ , b.m. ( , , c ). see _folk-song journal_, vol. i. p. . . the loyal lover. words and air from sally satterley, huckaby bridge, again from anne roberts, scobbetor, widdecombe. the words exist in part in "collin and phoebe's garland," b.m. ( , , c ). but this has two verses only. see also _the lover's magazine_, london, , b.m. ( , , c ). this air has been harmonised in the dorian mode, though as the th of the scale is absent, it might have been treated as an Ã�olian tune. . the streams of nantsian. properly "the streams of lovely nancy." taken down by miss templer from the singing of harvesters in ; also by us from matthew ford, menheniot; matthew baker, lew down; and james oliver, launceston. matthew baker said that he learned it, when aged ten, in . the ballad was printed by keys of devonport, _circ._ , with four verses, of which verse was an importation from another ballad. in other broadside versions, the short original, consisting of four verses only, has been swelled out with scraps from other ballads to fill available space. broadsides by catnach, whiting of birmingham, etc. . the drunken maidens. taken down from edmund fry, lydford. this old ballad is found in "charming phillis' garland," _circ._ . it is in a broadside by crashaw of york, reprinted in logan's "pedlar's pack," , p. . the last verse has had to be modified. a breton version, "merc'hed caudan," is given by luzel, ii. . . tobacco is an indian weed. this old and famous song was written, it is thought, by george withers, as mr. collier found a copy of it in ms. of the date of james i., with his initials to it. it is found in "merry drollery complete," , and on a broadside dated . we give the tune to which it is sung around dartmoor and in cornwall; this is entirely distinct from that to which it is sung elsewhere, as printed by chappell, ii. p. , which is the air given by d'urfey in his "pills to purge melancholy," , iii. . a somerset version was sung at the folk-song competition at frome, . snatches of the song are given in "handy andy," so that we may assume that it is also well known among the irish peasantry; another instance of the way in which english songs have travelled into ireland. we took down our tune from john potter, merripit, postbridge, and from anne roberts, scobbetor, and h. westaway, belstone; also one obtained from an old man at newton abbot, sent to me. in the original ballad, reprinted in bell's "songs and ballads of the english peasantry," there are many more stanzas than we can give here. . fair susan slumbered. music taken down from george cole, quarryman, rundlestone, dartmoor. the words were so utterly worthless that mr. sheppard wrote a fresh copy of verses to the melody. cole's first verses ran-- "in yonder grove sat a lovely creature, who she is, i do not know; but i'll go court her for her feature, whether she'll answer me yes or no! "o maiden i am come a-courting if your favour i can gain; if that you will but entertain me, then i'm sure i'll call again." the original words are to be found in "the vocal library," london, , no. , : "as a fair maid walked." . the false bride. words and music taken down from old sally satterley. the earliest copy in print with which i am acquainted is in "the new pantheon concert," , b.m. ( , , e ). a re-writing of the theme is on a broadside by such, "when i heard he was married i stood not alone"; it is no. . see also a "collection of old ballads," in the b.m., vol. i. p. , "the forlorn lover." mr. c. sharp has obtained a fine air to the same words, and has published it in "folk-songs from somerset," no. . . barley straw. taken down from the singing of mr. g.h. hurell, the blind organist at chagford, as he heard it sung by a carpenter, william beare, in . the words were very coarse, consequently mr. sheppard re-wrote the song. the air was used by a.s. rich, without its most characteristic passages, for hunneman's comic "old king cole," pub. _circ._ . much the same tune is in akerman's "wiltshire tales," , as a wiltshire harvest home, p. . harmonised in the Ã�olian mode, though the seventh of the scale is absent. . death and the lady. this was first sent to me by captain hall munro, of ingesdon house, newton abbot, as sung by an old man there. subsequently we obtained the same from roger hannaford. this is quite different from the "dialogue of death and the lady," found in black letter broadsides, and given by bell in his "songs of the english peasantry," p. . the tune to this latter is given by chappell, i. p. . in carey's "musical century," , is given the air of "death and the lady" as "an old tune." but this melody and ours have nothing in common. what is the signification of "branchey tree" in connection with death, i am at a loss to say. "death and the lady" was one of the ballads sung by farmer williams in "the vicar of wakefield." . both sexes give ear to my fancy. this old song is a favourite with the peasantry throughout england. the words are printed in bell's "songs of the english peasantry," p. . he says, "we have had considerable trouble in procuring a copy of the old song, which used, in former days, to be very popular with aged people resident in the north of england. it has been long out of print, and handed down traditionally. by the kindness of mr. s. swindells, printer, manchester, we have been favoured with an ancient printed copy." in the original the song consists of ten verses. the earliest copy of it that i know is in "the lady's evening book of pleasure," about . it will be found in a collection of garlands made by mr. j. bell about , and called by him "the eleemosynary emporium." it is in the british museum. the air is found in "vocal music, or the songster's companion," nd ed., , to the song, "farewell, ye green fields and sweet groves," p. . it was taken into "the tragedy of tragedies, or tom thumb," , as the air to "in hurry, posthaste for a licence," and was attributed to dr. arne. in "die familie mendelssohn," vol. ii., is a scrap of music written down by felix mendelssohn, dated leipzig, th august , which is identical with the first few bars of this melody. but the earliest form of the air is in j.s. bach's "comic cantata," where a peasant sings it. we took the song down from john rickards, lamerton, and again from j. benney, menheniot. mr. kidson prints a yorkshire version in his "traditional tunes," . miss l. broadwood has noted it down from the singing of a baker at cuckfield, sussex. dr. barrett gives our melody to "the gallant hussar," no. . we have also taken it down to this ballad; so has mr. sharp in somerset. . i rode my little horse. words and music from edmund fry, lydford, and again from john bennett, a labourer at chagford, and from john hunt, a shepherd, postbridge. compare with this the ballad in d'urfey's "pills to purge melancholy," named "jolly roger twangdillo," , i. p. . a broadside copy of the ballad exists, printed by jennings, of waterlane, london, _circ._ . the same theme is used in a ballad in the pepysian collection. see ebsworth, "roxburgh ballads," vii. . each verse ends-- "i vow i will marry, but i know not when." . among the new-mown hay. bell, in his "ballads and songs of the peasantry," p. , gives this song. he says that it is "a village version of an incident which occurred in the cecil family." tennyson composed his "lord of burleigh" on the same topic. so did moore his song, "you remember helen, the hamlet's pride." but it may well be questioned whether either of these compositions comes up to the grace of the little "village version" of the tale. the ballad, however, is probably earlier than the cecil marriage, and refers to some other legendary mésalliance. henry cecil, afterwards earl and still later first marquis of exeter, saw, loved, and married a farmer's daughter named sarah hoggins, at bolas magna in staffordshire, in , he under the assumed name of john jones. she was then aged seventeen, and he aged thirty-seven. moreover, he was married at the time to miss vernon, a worcestershire lady, to whom he had been united in . in , henry cecil obtained a divorce from his wife, emma vernon, and then was married in his proper name to sarah hoggins, at st. mildred's, bread street, in the city of london. not fully six years later the "cottage countess" died; and after three years the widower espoused a divorcée, sometime wife of the eighth duke of hamilton. happily no question as to the legitimacy of the children arose. henry, the eldest, was not born till . he died the same year; but his brother, brownlow, born two years later, lived to succeed his father in . these plain facts take away most of the romance of the story of the "cottage countess." moreover, henry cecil did not meet his sarah among the new-mown hay. he arrived at bolas in a chaise in a snow-storm, late in november , and was lodged for a few nights in the farm. there he saw sarah, who with friends was dancing. she was then only fifteen and a half years old. cecil left, but returned in eighteen months and married her, as already said, under an assumed name, and before he was quit of his first wife. the whole story has been told in _chambers's edinburgh journal_, part (sixth series), december , . melody taken down from james dingle, coryton. . i'll build myself a gallant ship. the words are a cento from a long ballad. the complete song was taken down from j. watts, quarryman, thrushleton. the entire ballad is in logan's "pedlar's pack," p. . there are several broadside versions. a scottish version in herd, "ancient and modern scottish songs," , ii. p. . the air to which this is sung in scotland is that to which burns composed "of a' the airts the wind can blaw." joyce gives an irish version in his "ancient irish music," no. . besides watts' ballad, we had the fragment we give to the same air from richard cleave, since dead, at the "forest inn," huckaby bridge. never shall i forget the occasion. mr. bussell and i drove across dartmoor in winter in a furious gale of wind and rain to huckaby in quest of an old man who, we had been informed, was a singer. we found the fellow, but he yielded nothing, and our long journey would have been fruitless, had we not caught richard cleave and obtained from him this air, which drive cost me a bronchitis attack that held me a prisoner for six weeks. the song is given under the title "the lowlands of holland," in the _folk-song journal_, vol. i. p. , as taken down in sussex. . colly my cow. this is a portion of an old ballad in the roxburgh collection, ed. chappell, iii. p. -- "little tom dogget, what doest thou mean, to kill thy poor colly now she's so lean? sing oh! poor colly, colly my cow; for colly will give me no more milk now. pruh high, pruh hoe, pruh high, pruh hoe, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, tal-dal daw." printed by t. passinger ( - ) at the seven stars on london bridge. the ballad is also found in the rawlinson collection and elsewhere. it was afterwards sung in a shortened form at the concerts in marylebone gardens, and is printed in "the marylebone concert," n.d. in the heading to the old ballad we have-- "a country swain of little wit, one day did kill his cow, because she went astray." but it is probable that the song originally turned on a different theme. on the th september , a man was killed by a protestant in the rue de la harpe, at paris, for singing the song "de colas." this song was composed by a seditious faction, with the intent of provoking the huguenots, upon the subject of a cow which had walked into one of their conventicles during the performance of divine service. the cow, which belonged to a poor peasant named colas, was killed by the huguenots for her sacrilegious act. thereupon the catholics made a collection in every town and village in france to raise a sum for the indemnification of colas. the day after the murder the singing of the song of "colas his cow," was forbidden under the penalty of the gallows, and it was even dangerous for anyone to hum the tune in the street ("concert room anecdotes," , ii. p. ). the song must have been brought to england and adapted to english words after the restoration, and as the story of the occasion of the killing of the cow was forgotten, it was altered. the tune is very old, and we had it from an aged woman at kingsweare, who sang "the abbot of canterbury" to it. but this has its own tune, given by chappell, i. p. . i have added the final verse. . within a garden. taken down from harry smith, two bridges, dartmoor. the original words were so poor, and so closely resembled those of "the broken token" (no. ), that mr. shepherd wrote fresh words. the original began-- "a fair maid walking in her garden, a brisk young sailor came passing by; and he stepped up to her, thinking to woo her, and said, 'fair maid, can you fancy i?' "'you seem to talk like some man of honour, some man of honour, you seem to be; how can you fancy such a poor young woman, not fit your servant for to be?'" the ballad is published by such as "the young and single sailor," no. . it is also in "the vocal library," london, , p. . it was printed on broadside by catnach as "the sailor's return." we obtained it again from james parsons. . the bonny bird. always sung as "my bonny boy." it is the companion song to the "jolly goss hawk" (no. ). words and melody from mary langworthy, stoke fleming. we have taken this down from two other singers, but not to the same tune; one j. doidge, of chillaton, gave us an air characteristic and good. miss broadwood has the song in her "county songs," pp. - , but to a different melody. in all the versions taken down from oral recitation, the word is boy and not bird, but _bird_ is the original word. the ballad was printed by j. coles, - , and by w. thackeray, - , and is in the douce collection of early broadsides in the bodleian library; also in the pepysian collection, and is printed by ebsworth in the roxburgh ballads, viii. p. . it was originally sung to "cupid's trepan," also called "up the green forest," and "bonny, bonny bird." this air is given by chappell, ii. p. , but this differs from our tune entirely, as also from that given by miss broadwood. the ballad has not, as yet, been traced earlier than the reign of charles ii. it begins-- "once i did love a bonny brave bird, and thought he had been all my own; but he loved another far better than me, and has taken his flight and is flown, bonny boys, and has taken his flight and is flown. "up the green forest, and down the green forest, like one distracted in mind, i hoopt and i hoopt, and i flung up my hood, but my bonny bird i could not find." a later version is found, _circ._ , in single sheet broadsides, in the british museum ( , ). "cupid's trepan or up the green forest" was priced in russell smith's catalogue at £ , s. d. . the lady and apprentice. taken down twice, the tune here given is that sung with these words by samuel fone. we got the melody also from sally satterley, but with her the words were in confusion. the ballad runs on the same lines, and is almost identical with "the lady who fell in love with a 'prentice boy," printed as a broadside by pitts, - ; also by harkness of preston. a copy in the british museum ( , d). this ballad begins like that of "cupid's garden," which is well known. but the ballad is a mere cooking up by a balladmonger of the earlier theme, and very badly done. the melody is actually the same as that of "love's tale" in our "garland of country song." . paul jones. taken down from a good many singers on and around dartmoor. the melody is in the mixolydian mode, and is very early and rugged, far older than the period of paul jones himself. mr. c. sharp says: "in my opinion the tune should perhaps never be harmonised at all. the whole air is cast in the chord of the dominant th, and, in the opinion of most authorities, this chord should end the song; but in view of the popular preference for a concord rather than a discord as the concluding harmony, i have ended with the usual cadence." paul jones was the terror of our coasts; he was born near kirkcudbright in . his real name was john paul. when the rupture took place between great britain and america, he enlisted under the revolutionary flag, and assumed the name of paul jones. his daring disposition, and his knowledge of the british coast, pointed him out as a fitting leader in marauding schemes. towards the end of he was actively employed, as commander, in fitting out the _ranger_ privateer, mounting eighteen guns, and manned with a crew of men. we have not the space for narrating his daring exploits; his life has often been written, and a good notice of him will be found in the "dictionary of national biography." the fight described in the ballad took place on september , . the body of paul jones was removed from paris, where he died, to america in . the ballad is found on broadsides. it is given by logan in his "pedlar's pack," p. . dr. barrett, in his "english folk-songs," no. , has the ballad to the tune we have given here to "the bonny blue kerchief," to which paul jones is quite unsuited. . the merry haymakers. this quaint carol-like song was taken down from john woodrich, who learned it, about , and he says that it was his father's favourite song, also from james parsons. neither knew the words in their entirety, but they may be found in "west country garlands," b.m. ( , , b ), and among the broadsheets of pitts, about the beginning of the nineteenth century, beginning "in the merry month of june." the words also in bell's "ballads of the english peasantry," p. . dr. brushfield of budleigh salterton has kindly sent me a ms. copy of the end of the seventeenth century or early in the eighteenth. the words, however, did not fit the tune comfortably, and i was constrained to re-write the song. "the merry haymakers" is in d'urfey's "pills," and as a broadside printed by c.b. (bates), , was priced in russell smith's catalogue, , at three guineas. . in bibberly town. the air taken down from john bennett, chagford. in broadsides the place is "beverley town," and is entitled "the beverley maid and the tinker," printed by catnach, b.m. ( , c ); as "the tinker's frolic," in a garland in the british museum, printed by swindells, manchester ( , , b ); as "the tinker and chambermaid," a broadside by harkness, preston ( , d). it begins-- "in beverley town a maid did dwell, a buxom lass, i knew her well. her age it was just twenty-two, and for a man she had in view." it is a coarse ballad, and mr. sheppard re-wrote it. the first phrase in the melody is apparently a modernised edition of an older one. the rest of the air is ancient, and in the mixolydian mode. . the marigold. this ballad was first taken down by davies gilbert in from an old man named john hockin, in his eighty-sixth year, at st. erth, cornwall. the melody, which is very early, was, curiously enough, used by william aggett for hook's song, "on board the ninety-eight." hook was born in , and the melody is probably two centuries earlier than his time. there was another bristol ballad, "the honour of bristol, showing how the angel gabriel of bristol fought with three spanish ships, who boarded us seven times, wherein we cleared our decks, and killed five hundred of their men, and wounded many more, and made them flye into cales when we lost but three men, to the honour of the angel gabriel of bristol," priced in russell smith's catalogue at £ , s. d. we have taken down the ballad, "come all ye worthy christian men," to this melody, which is in the dorian mode. a fragment of this latter ballad is given in _folk-song journal_, vol. i. p. , taken down in sussex, in five verses. we have had it twice: once from j. dingle, coryton, and once as learned in by george radford, from a blind fiddler at washfield, near tiverton, and "pricked down" by h. pinkney, gardener, washfield. mr. sharp has also met with it in rackenford, n. devon. the air in sussex is not the same. in "hakluyt's voyages," vol. iii. ( ), is an account of "the voyage of the ship called the marigold of mr. hill of redrife unto cape breton and beyond, to the latitude of degrees and a half, , written by rd. fisher, master hille's man of redriffe." so also hakluyt mentions "the marigold tunnes in burthen, furnished with men, whereof ten were mariners," which is stated to have "departed out of falmouth, the st june, ," commanded by richard strong, "bound for an island within the straights of s. peter on the backe side of newfoundland to the s.w. in the lat. of degrees." in latimer's th century "annals of bristol" is mention made of a ship "the marigold," under the date - , of seventy tons, owned by mr. ellis. it was granted letters of marque to prey upon the enemy's commerce; but no mention is made of sir thomas merrifield. the _redrife_ above is redcliffe, bristol. bristol was spelled _bristow_ in maps of the city published in and , but in one of it is spelled bristoll. i have been unable to find sir thomas merrifield in any lists of knights; but before the reign of james i. no official record of knights was kept. . arthur le bride. taken down from sam fone, mary tavy, by mr. bussell, in . sam told us that this was his father's favourite song. he had learned it from his father when he was quite a child, for the elder fone deserted his family, and was never heard of again. but one day sam, when aged eighteen, saw a workman standing at a cottage door, talking to someone within, and he had his hand against the door-post, clutching it as he leaned forward. sam exclaimed: "that's my father's hand!" the man turned about, and without showing his face, walked away. when sam came from his work in the evening he made enquiries, and ascertained that a stranger had been lodging in the cottage for a few nights, but was gone. he asked the woman of the house about her lodger. "well," said she, "i don't know his name, nor nothing about him. but he asked me for a tallow candle, and melted it up into his boots." "that was my father. it was a trick of his," said sam, promptly. and that was the last ever seen of the man. there was one more verse in the original, omitted to reduce the lengthy ballad to singable proportions. . the keeper. this song was taken down from peter sandry, st. ervan's. he had a bad cold, and could not reach the upper notes. but we got the same tune from mr. jas. ellis, chaddlehanger, lamerton, and also from miss templer, from the singing of harvesters in ; but in both these latter cases to the words of "green broom." a copy of the ballad will be found in a "garland," b.m., , , c ; but this has a chorus to it-- "jack my master, sing you well, very well, with my derry down, with my down, down, down." i have been compelled to re-write most of the song, which in the original is very gross. it is certainly an ancient composition. . the queen of hearts. sung by a workman engaged on the burrow-tor reservoir at sheepstor, the water supply for plymouth, . a quaint little song. it has been printed on broadside by bachelar, b.m., in vol. vi. p. , of several volumes of broadsides i gave to the b.m. this begins-- "o my poor heart, my poor heart is breaking for a false young man, or i am mistaking: he is gone to ireland, for a long time to tarry, some irish girl i am afraid he will marry." this is obviously an addition to fill out space in the broadside. the ballad has a flavour of the period of charles ii. . the owl. this song occurs in part in king henry viii.'s music-book, "deuteromelia," published in . it was set by mr. freeman as a glee in "the essex harmony," vol. i. , p. . in beaumont and fletcher's play, "the knight of the burning pestle," , old merrythought trolls out snatches of songs, and amongst others-- "nose, nose, jolly red nose, and who gave thee this jolly red nose? cinnamon, ginger, nutmegs, and cloves, and they gave me this jolly red nose." mr. bussell noted down the melody from james olver, tanner of launceston, in . of the words, olver could not recall the line that follows "and all the day long the owl is asleep," and i have had to supply what lacked. i give this song because it is interesting to note the changes that the air has undergone since it was performed as a three man's song before king henry viii. it will be noticed that olver has not got all that portion of the song beginning "to whom drink'st thou." chappell has given "of all the birds," in i. p. . on the other hand, in "deuteromelia," only the first verse is given; olver had three. a re-writing of the song "of all the birds on bush or tree" in "the thrush," london, , has two stanzas. the second concerns the lark. . my mother did so before me. this song is based on the old english ditty "my father was born before me," as may be seen at once by comparing the first few lines-- "i am a lusty, lively lad now come to one and twenty, my father left me all he had, both gold and silver plenty. "now he's in grave, i will be brave, the ladies shall adore me, i'll court and kiss, what hurt's in this? my father did so before me." the first appearance of this ballad is in thomas jordan's "london triumphant," . it was taken by d'urfey into his "pills to purge melancholy," vol. i., and . the air appears in the "dancing master" as "jamaca," th edition, , and in those subsequent. the tune we give was taken down to the song from s. fone by mr. sheppard in . "my mother did so before me" occurs without music in "the nightingale," a song-book published in edinburgh, , and is given by logan in his "pedlar's pack," , from a chap-book of . it occurs also on a broadside by pitts of seven dials. it is also in "the quaver," lond. . the tune we have taken down is certainly based on the early air as given in the "dancing master." it is in chappell, ii. p. . . a week's work well done. this popular song, relished by married men, was taken down from richard hard a little over a month before he died. in the original it is much longer. there are in all eleven verses. the first four are concerned with the happiness of the man previous to his marriage. but i find that most singers begin with the fifth verse. the ballad is found in "west country garlands," date _circ._ , b.m., , b . it actually begins thus-- "o when that i was a bachelor brave, enjoying of all that my soul could have; my silver and guineas i then let fly, i cock'd my beaver, and, who but i? "i roved about, and i roved awhile, till all the ladies did on me smile; from noble lady to country joan, both gentle and simple, were all mine own. "my rapier it was a bilboa blade, my coat and waistcoat were overlaid with silver spangles, so neat and gay, as i were a king in some country play. "besides, i had such a flattering tongue, the ladies laughed whene'er i sung; i had a voice so sweet and fine that every lady's heart was mine." . the old man can't keep his wife at home. the curious rugged melody was taken down from a very old fiddler named william andrews, at sheepstor, by mr. bussell. the old fellow did not recall all the words, but remembered the story. according to his account this was a dance tune to which the performers sang in accompaniment to the music and tramp of feet. i have had to re-compose the ballad from the fragment and the story. it bears a family resemblance to "the old couple" given in "the garland of country song," p. . in the story the old man locks his wife out. she threatens to drown herself, and throws a stone into the well. the old man, when he hears the splash, descends, opens the door, and goes forth to see whether his wife really has drowned herself. at once she slips in at the open door and locks him out. the story is very ancient. it occurred in the lost sanscrit book of tales of which persian and arabic and turkish versions exist, and which filtered into europe through greek and latin and hebrew translations. this story came into dolopathos and the seven wise masters. the french and latin versions were made in the th century. but the story had already got to europe through the converted jew, peter alphonsus, who inserted it in his "disciplina clericalis," written in . from this it got into some of the versions of the "gesta romanorum," and finally into boccaccio's "decameron," seventh day, tale . to give the whole story in ballad form would have made the ballad too long; i have therefore reduced it to three verses, and have given it, from the man's point of view, a happier termination. the tune is clearly a bagpipe air with drone. . sweet, farewell. taken down from samuel fone, of mary tavy, in , the music noted by mr. bussell. fone had forgotten the two last lines of verse and the two first of verse . the air is pleasant, but the words are naught. . old adam, the poacher. this curious melody was taken down by mr. bussell from the fiddling of william andrews, sheepstor. we saw the old man a little over a year before his death. he brought out and lent us a collection of ms. violin tunes, but all of these were well-known, old-fashioned dance airs. then he played to us several not in his book that were traditional at sheepstor. this was one of them, a dance tune; but he could not recall the words, only he knew that they told of the adventures of "old adam, the poacher." mr. sheppard arranged this for "english minstrelsy," but did not perceive that the first four lines of air have to be repeated to complete the tune; and in taking the melody from the fiddler, one could not detect at first, not knowing the words, where the tune precisely ended. it seems, however, obvious that there is a repeat of the first strain. i wrote the words. . evening prayer. some fifty years ago this was the only, or almost the only, prayer used by village children. it was said or chanted far more extensively than the lord's prayer. the children had, however, cut down the hymn to one verse. the complete song, as "prayer of the week," was obtained from an old woman in the workhouse at tavistock. where the passage occurs purporting to come from the epistles of st. peter it would be hard to say. the tune, as it stands, is in the major mode, and is so harmonised. but if the last note were g instead of e[flat]--as, indeed, it is in the two previous repetitions of the same phrase--the melody would then be in the phrygian mode. the termination in e[flat] is probably a modern corruption. something very much like this prayer is found throughout europe. here is the quercy version, sung also in poitou, gascony, and brittany-- "father of habit, our lord salutes you. he is at the head, he is at the feet; he is now, he is hereafter. on the bed, when i lie, five angels are me by, two to head and two to feet, the mother of god in the midst, whilst i sleep. i need not fear fire and flame and sudden death," etc. daymard, "chansons populaires," cahors, . it is probably the "white paternoster" referred to in "the miller's tale," by chaucer-- "lord jhesu crist, and seynte benedight, bless this hous from every wikkede wight, fro nyghtesmare werye the witte (white) pater-noster." white, in his "way to the true church," , insists on "the prodigious ignorance" which he found among his parishioners when he entered on his ministrations. he gives what he calls "the white paternoster":-- "white paternoster, saint peter's brother, what hast i' th' one hand? white book leaves. what hast i' th' t'other hand? heaven yate keyes. open heaven yates, and streike hell yates: and let every crysome child creep to its own mother, white paternoster, amen." this, however, is not the same. but in the magical treatise, "enchiridion papæ leonis," rome, , it runs-- "petit pate nôtre blanche que dieu fit, que dieu dit, que dieu mit en paradis. au soir me allant coucher je trouve trois anges à mon lit couchés, un aux pieds, deux au chevet, la bonne vierge marie au milieu, qui me dit que je me arrette, que rien ne doute." this was to be recited thrice at eve, thrice in the morning, and it would secure paradise. the white paternoster was proscribed by the church as superstitious: "le tableau de la vida del parfet crestia," by p. amilha, , p. . see victor hugo, "les miserables," iv. p. . a form used on the cornish moors, and repeated by a boy at alternon, runs-- "ding dong, the parson's bell, very well my mother. i shall be buried in the old churchyard, by the side of my dear brother. my coffin shall be black, two little angels at my back, two to watch, and two to pray, and two to carry my soul away. when i am dead and in my grave, and all my bones are rotten, jesus christ will come again when i am quite forgotten." the boy was taught this by his aunt. in the "townley mysteries," p. , the shepherds watching their flocks by night repeat a form of this prayer. see also ady's "candle in the dark," london, , p. ; also a paper in the _archæologia_, xxvii. p. , by the rev. lancelot sharpe; and halliwell's "nursery rhymes," no. ccxl. * * * * * songs in the first edition omitted from this are-- fathom the bowl. the squire and the fair maid. my lady's coach. an evening so clear. the warson hunt. the rout is out. why should we be dullards sad? nancy. farewell to kingsbridge. something lacking. the wrestling match. broadbury gibbet. the orchestra. fair girl, mind this when you marry. cupid, the ploughboy. come, my lads, let us be jolly. a single and a married life. the saucy ploughboy. the everlasting circle. hunting the hare. dead maid's land. shower and sunshine. the first edition is still kept in stock, so that such persons as desire these ballads, and such others as are retained in this, but treated differently, as duets and quartettes, can obtain them from the publishers. * * * * * [illustration: printed by c.g. roder, limited, willesden junction london, n.w.] none proofreaders the anti-slavery harp: a collection of songs for anti-slavery meetings compiled by william w. brown, a fugitive slave. . preface. the demand of the public for a cheap anti-slavery song-book, containing songs of a more recent composition, has induced me to collect together, and present to the public, the songs contained in this book. in making this collection, however, i am indebted to the authors of the "liberty minstrel," and "the anti-slavery melodies," but the larger portion of these songs has never before been published; some have never been in print. to all true friends of the slave, the anti-slavery harp is respectfully dedicated, w. w. brown. boston, june, . songs. have we not all one father? am i not a man and brother? air--bride's farewell. am i not a man and brother? ought i not, then, to be free? sell me not one to another, take not thus my liberty. christ our saviour, christ our saviour, died for me as well as thee. am i not a man and brother? have i not a soul to save? oh, do not my spirit smother, making me a wretched slave; god of mercy, god of mercy, let me fill a freeman's grave! yes, thou art a man and brother, though thou long hast groaned a slave, bound with cruel cords and tether from the cradle to the grave! yet the saviour, yet the saviour, bled and died all souls to save. yes, thou art a man and brother, though we long have told thee nay; and are bound to aid each other, all along our pilgrim way. come and welcome, come and welcome, join with us to praise and pray! o, pity the slave mother. air--araby's daughter. i pity the slave mother, careworn and weary, who sighs as she presses her babe to her breast; i lament her sad fate, all so hopeless and dreary, i lament for her woes, and her wrongs unredressed. o who can imagine her heart's deep emotion, as she thinks of her children about to be sold; you may picture the bounds of the rock-girdled ocean, but the grief of that mother can never be known. the mildew of slavery has blighted each blossom, that ever has bloomed in her path-way below; it has froze every fountain that gushed in her bosom, and chilled her heart's verdure with pitiless woe; her parents, her kindred, all crushed by oppression; her husband still doomed in its desert to stay; no arm to protect from the tyrant's aggression-- she must weep as she treads on her desolate way. o, slave mother, hope! see--the nation is shaking! the arm of the lord is awake to thy wrong! the slave-holder's heart now with terror is quaking, salvation and mercy to heaven belong! rejoice, o rejoice! for the child thou art rearing, may one day lift up its unmanacled form, while hope, to thy heart, like the rain-bow so cheering, is born, like the rain-bow, 'mid tempest and storm. the blind slave boy. air--sweet afton. come back to me, mother! why linger away from thy poor little blind boy, the long weary day! i mark every footstep, i list to each tone, and wonder my mother should leave me alone! there are voices of sorrow, and voices of glee, but there's no one to joy or to sorrow with me; for each hath of pleasure and trouble his share, and none for the poor little blind boy will care. my mother, come back to me! close to thy breast once more let thy poor little blind one be pressed; once more let me feel thy warm breath on my cheek, and hear thee in accents of tenderness speak! o mother! i've no one to love me--no heart can bear like thine own in my sorrows a part; no hand is so gentle, no voice is so kind, o! none like a mother can cherish the blind! poor blind one! no mother thy wailing can hear, no mother can hasten to banish thy fear; for the slave-owner drives her, o'er mountain and wild, and for one paltry dollar hath sold thee, poor child! ah! who can in language of mortals reveal the anguish that none but a mother can feel, when man in his vile lust of mammon hath trod on her child, who is stricken and smitten of god! blind, helpless, forsaken, with strangers alone, she hears in her anguish his piteous moan, as he eagerly listens--but listens in vain, to catch the loved tones of his mother again! the curse of the broken in spirit shall fall on the wretch who hath mingled this wormwood and gall, and his gain like a mildew shall blight and destroy, who hath torn from his mother the little blind boy! ye sons of freemen. air--marseilles hymn. ye sons of freemen wake to sadness, hark! hark, what myriads bid you rise; three millions of our race in madness break out in wails, in bitter cries, break out in wails, in bitter cries, must men whose hearts now bleed with anguish, yes, trembling slaves in freedom's land, endure the lash, nor raise a hand? must nature 'neath the whip-cord languish? have pity on the slave, take courage from god's word; pray on, pray on, all hearts resolved--these captives shall be free. the fearful storm--it threatens lowering, which god in mercy long delays; slaves yet may see their masters cowering, while whole plantations smoke and blaze! while whole plantations smoke and blaze; and we may now prevent the ruin, ere lawless force with guilty stride shall scatter vengeance far and wide-- with untold crimes their hands imbruing. have pity on the slave; take courage from god's word; pray on, pray on, all hearts resolved--these captives shall be free. with luxury and wealth surrounded, the southern masters proudly dare, with thirst of gold and power unbounded, to mete and vend god's light and air! to mete and vend god's light and air; like beasts of burden, slaves are loaded, till life's poor toilsome day is o'er; while they in vain for right implore; and shall they longer still be goaded? have pity on the slave; take courage from god's word; toil on, toil on, all hearts resolved--these captives shall be free. o liberty! can man e'er bind thee? can overseers quench thy flame? can dungeons, bolts, or bars confine thee, or threats thy heaven-born spirit tame? or threats thy heaven-born spirit tame? too long the slave has groaned, bewailing the power these heartless tyrants wield; yet free them not by sword or shield, for with men's hearts they're unavailing; have pity on the slave; take courage from god's word; toil on! toil on! all hearts resolved--these captives shall be free! freedom's star. air--silver moon. as i strayed from my cot at the close of the day, i turned my fond gaze to the sky; i beheld all the stars as so sweetly they lay, and but one fixed my heart or my eye. shine on, northern star, thou'rt beautiful and bright to the slave on his journey afar; for he speeds from his foes in the darkness of night, guided on by thy light, freedom's star. on thee he depends when he threads the dark woods ere the bloodhounds have hunted him back; thou leadest him on over mountains and floods, with thy beams shining full on his track. shine on, &c. unwelcome to him is the bright orb of day, as it glides o'er the earth and the sea; he seeks then to hide like a wild beast of prey, but with hope, rests his heart upon thee. shine on, &c. may never a cloud overshadow thy face, while the slave flies before his pursuer; gleam steadily on to the end of his race, till his body and soul are secure. shine on, &c. the liberty ball. air--rosin the bow. come all ye true friends of the nation, attend to humanity's call; come aid the poor slave's liberation, and roll on the liberty ball-- and roll on the liberty ball-- come aid the poor slave's liberation, and roll on the liberty ball. the liberty hosts are advancing-- for freedom to _all_ they declare; the down-trodden millions are sighing-- come, break up our gloom of despair. come break up our gloom of despair, &c. ye democrats, come to the rescue, and aid on the liberty cause, and millions will rise up and bless you, with heart-cheering songs of applause, with heart-cheering songs, &c. ye whigs, forsake slavery's minions, and boldly step into our ranks; we care not for party opinions, but invite all the friends of the banks,-- and invite all the friends of the banks, &c, and when we have formed the blest union we'll firmly march on, one and all-- we'll sing when we meet in communion, and _roll on_ the liberty ball, and roll on the liberty ball, dec. emancipation hymn of the west indian negroes. for the first of august celebration. praise we the lord! let songs resound to earth's remotest shore! songs of thanksgiving, songs of praise-- for we are slaves no more. praise we the lord! his power hath rent the chains that held us long! his voice is mighty, as of old, and still his arm is strong. praise we the lord! his wrath arose, his arm our fetters broke; the tyrant dropped the lash, and we to liberty awoke! praise we the lord! let holy songs rise from these happy isles!-- o! let us not unworthy prove, on whom his bounty smiles. and cease we not the fight of faith till all mankind be free; till mercy o'er the earth shall flow, as waters o'er the sea. then shall indeed messiah's reign through all the world extend; then swords to ploughshares shall be turned, and heaven with earth shall blend. over the mountain. over the mountain, and over the moor, hungry and weary i wander forlorn; my father is dead, and my mother is poor, and she grieves for the days that will never return; give me some food for my mother in charity; give me some food and then i will be gone. pity, kind gentlemen, friends of humanity, cold blows the wind and the night's coming on. call me not indolent beggar and bold enough, fain would i learn both to knit and to sew; i've two little brothers at home, when they're old enough, they will work hard for the gifts you bestow; pity, kind gentlemen, friends of humanity. cold blows the wind, and the night's coming on; give me some food for my mother in charity, give me some food, and then i will begone. jubilee song. air--away the bowl. our grateful hearts with joy o'erflow, hurra, hurra, hurra, we hail the despot's overthrow, hurra, hurra, hurra, no more he'll raise the gory lash, and sink it deep in human flesh, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra hurra, hurra, hurra. we raise the song in freedom's name, hurra, hurra, hurra, her glorious triumph we proclaim, hurra, hurra, hurra, beneath her feet lie slavery's chains, their power to curse no more remains, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra. with joy we'll make the air resound, hurra, hurra, hurra, that all may hear the gladsome sound, hurra, hurra, hurra, we glory at oppression's fall, the slave has burst his deadly thrall, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra. in mirthful glee we'll dance and sing, hurra, hurra, hurra, with shouts we'll make the welkin ring, hurra, hurra, hurra, shout! shout aloud! the bondsman's free! this, this is freedom's jubilee! hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra. spirit of freemen, wake. air--america. spirit of freemen, wake; no truce with slavery make, thy deadly foe; in fair disguises dressed, too long hast thou caress'd the serpent in thy breast, now lay him low. must e'en the press be dumb? must truth itself succumb? and thoughts be mute? shall law be set aside, the right of prayer denied, nature and god decried, and man called brute? what lover of her fame feels not his country's shame, in this dark hour? where are the patriots now, of honest heart and brow, who scorn the neck to bow to slavery's power? sons of the free! we call on you, in field and hall, to rise as one; your heaven-born rights maintain, nor let oppression's chain on human limbs remain;-- speak! and 't is done. the slave's lamentation. air--long, long ago. where are the friends that to me were so dear, long, long ago--long ago! where are the hopes that my heart used to cheer? long, long ago--long ago! i am degraded, for man was my foe, friends that i loved in the grave are laid low, all hope of freedom hath fled from me now, long, long ago--long, long ago! sadly my wife bowed her beautiful head-- long, long ago--long ago! o, how i wept when i found she was dead! long, long ago--long ago! she was my angel, my love and pride-- vainly to save her from torture i tried, poor broken heart! she rejoiced as she died, long, long ago--long, long ago! let me look back on the days of my youth-- long, long ago--long ago! master withheld from me knowledge and truth-- long, long ago--long ago! crushed all the hopes of my earliest day, sent me from father and mother away-- forbade me to read, nor allowed me to pray-- long, long ago--long, long ago! flight of the bondman. dedicated to william w. brown _and sung by the hutchinsons_ by elias smith. air--silver moon. from the crack of the rifle and baying of hound, takes the poor panting bondman his flight; his couch through the day is the cold damp ground, but northward he runs through the night. chorus. o, god speed the flight of the desolate slave, let his heart never yield to despair; there is room 'mong our hills for the true and the brave, let his lungs breathe our free northern air! o, sweet to the storm-driven sailor the light, streaming far o'er the dark swelling wave; but sweeter by far 'mong the lights of the night, is the star of the north to the slave. o, god speed, &c. cold and bleak are our mountains and chilling our winds, but warm as the soft southern gales be the hands and the hearts which the hunted one finds, 'mong our hills and our own winter vales. o, god speed, &c. then list to the 'plaint of the heart-broken thrall, ye blood-hounds, go back to your lair; may a free northern soil soon give freedom to _all_, who shall breathe in its pure mountain air. o, god speed, &c. the sweets of liberty. air--is there a heart, &c. is there a man that never sighed to set the prisoner free? is there a man that never prized the sweets of liberty? then let him, let him breathe unseen, or in a dungeon live; nor never, never know the sweets that liberty can give. is there a heart so cold in man, can galling fetters crave? is there a wretch so truly low, can stoop to be a slave? o, let him, then, in chains be bound, in chains and bondage live; nor never, never know the sweets that liberty can give. is there a breast so chilled in life, can nurse the coward's sigh? is there a creature so debased, would not for freedom die? o, let him then be doomed to crawl where only reptiles live; nor never, never know the sweets that liberty can give. ye spirits of the free. air--my faith looks up to thee. ye spirits of the free, can ye forever see your brother man a yoked and scourged slave, chains dragging to his grave, and raise no hand to save? say if you can. in pride and pomp to roll, shall tyrants from the soul god's image tear, and call the wreck their own,-- while, from the eternal throne, they shut the stifled groan and bitter prayer? shall he a slave be bound, whom god hath doubly crowned creation's lord? shall men of christian name, without a blush of shame, profess their tyrant claim from god's own word? no! at the battle cry, a host prepared to die, shall arm for fight-- but not with martial steel, grasped with a murderous zeal; no arms their foes shall feel, but love and light. firm on jehovah's laws, strong in their righteous cause, they march to save. and vain the tyrant's mail, against their battle-hail, till cease the woe and wail of tortured slave! colonization song. to the free colored people. air--spider and the fly. will you, will you be colonized? will you, will you be colonized? 'tis a land that with honey and milk doth abound, where the lash is not heard, and the scourge is not found. chorus, will you, &c. if you stay in this land where the white man has rule, you will starve by his hand, in both body and soul. chorus. for a nuisance you are, in this land of your birth, held down by his hand, and crushed to the earth. chorus. my religion is pure, and came from above, but i cannot consent the black negro to love. chorus. it is true there is judgment that hangs o'er the land, but 't will all turn aside, when you follow the plan. chorus. you're ignorant i know, in this land of your birth, and religion though pure, cannot move the curse. chorus. but only consent, though extorted by force, what a blessing you'll prove, on the african coast. chorus. i am an abolitionist. air--auld lang syne. i am an abolitionist! i glory in the name: though now by slavery's minions hiss'd and covered o'er with shame, it is a spell of light and power-- the watchword of the free:-- who spurns it in the trial-hour, a craven soul is he! i am an abolitionist! then urge me not to pause; for joyfully do i enlist in freedom's sacred cause: a nobler strife the world ne'er saw, th' enslaved to disenthral; i am a soldier for the war, whatever may befall! i am an abolitionist! oppression's deadly foe; in god's great strength will i resist, and lay the monster low; in god's great name do i demand, to all be freedom given, that peace and joy may fill the land, and songs go up to heaven! i am an abolitionist! no threats shall awe my soul, no perils cause me to desist, no bribes my acts control; a freeman will i live and die, in sunshine and in shade, and raise my voice for liberty, of nought on earth afraid. the bereaved mother. air--kathleen o'more. o, deep was the anguish of the slave mother's heart, when called from her darling for ever to part; so grieved that lone mother, that heart broken mother, in sorrow and woe. the lash of the master her deep sorrows mock, while the child of her bosom is sold on the block; yet loud shrieked that mother, poor heart broken mother, in sorrow and woe. the babe in return, for its fond mother cries, while the sound of their wailings, together arise; they shriek for each other, the child and the mother, in sorrow and woe. the harsh auctioneer, to sympathy cold, tears the babe from its mother and sells it for gold; while the infant and mother, loud shriek for each other, in sorrow and woe. at last came the parting of mother and child, her brain reeled with madness, that mother was wild; then the lash could not smother the shrieks of that mother of sorrow and woe. the child was borne off to a far distant clime, while the mother was left in anguish to pine; but reason departed, and she sank broken hearted, in sorrow and woe. that poor mourning mother, of reason bereft, soon ended her sorrows and sank cold in death; thus died that slave mother, poor heart broken mother, in sorrow and woe. o, list ye kind mothers to the cries of the slave; the parents and children implore you to save; go! rescue the mothers, the sisters and brothers, from sorrow and woe. the chase. air--sweet afton. quick, fly to the covert, thou hunted of men! for the bloodhounds are baying o'er mountain and glen; the riders are mounted, the loose rein is given, and curses of wrath are ascending to heaven. o, speed to thy footsteps! for ruin and death, like the hurricane's rage, gather thick round thy path; and the deep muttered curses grow loud and more loud, as horse after horse swells the thundering crowd. speed, speed, to thy footsteps! thy track has been found; now, _sport_ for the _rider_, and _blood_ for the _hound!_ through brake and through forest the man-prey is driven; o, help for the hopeless, thou merciful heaven! on! on to the mountain! they're baffled again, and hope for the woe-stricken still may remain; the fast-flagging steeds are all white with their foam, the bloodhounds have turned from the chase to their home. joy! joy to the wronged one! the haven he gains, escaped from his thraldom, and freed from his chains! the heaven-stamped image--the god-given soul-- no more shall the spoiler at pleasure control. o, shame to columbia, that on her bright plains, man pines in his fetters, and curses his chains! shame! shame! that her star-spangled banner should wave where the lash is made red in the blood of the slave. sons of old pilgrim fathers! and are ye thus dumb? shall tyranny triumph, and freedom succumb? while mothers are torn from their children apart, and agony sunders the cords of the heart? shall the sons of those sires that once spurned the chain, turn bloodhounds to hunt and make captive again? o, shame to your honor, and shame to your pride, and shame on your memory ever abide! will not your old sires start up from the ground, at the crack of the whip, and bay of the hound, and shaking their skeleton hands in your face, curse the germs that produced such a miscreant race? o, rouse ye for freedom, before on your path heaven pours without mixture the vials of wrath! loose every hard burden--break off every chain-- restore to the bondman his freedom again. fling out the anti-slavery flag. air--auld lang syne fling out the anti-slavery flag on every swelling breeze; and let its folds wave o'er the land, and o'er the raging seas, till all beneath the standard sheet, with new allegiance bow; and pledge themselves to onward bear the emblem of their vow. fling out the anti-slavery flag, and let it onward wave till it shall float o'er every clime, and liberate the slave; till, like a meteor flashing far, it bursts with glorious light, and with its heaven-born rays dispels the gloom of sorrow's night. fling out the anti-slavery flag, and let it not be furled, till like a planet of the skies, it sweeps around the world. and when each poor degraded slave, is gathered near and far; o, fix it on the azure arch, as hope's eternal star. fling out the anti-slavery flag, forever let it be the emblem to a holy cause, the banner of the free. and never from its guardian height, let it by man be driven, but let it float forever there, beneath the smiles of heaven. the yankee girl. she sings by her wheel at that low cottage door, which the long evening shadow is stretching before; with a music as sweet as the music which seems breathed softly and faintly in the ear of our dreams! how brilliant and mirthful the light of her eye, like a star glancing out from the blue of the sky! and lightly and freely her dark tresses play o'er a brow and a bosom as lovely as they! who comes in his pride to that low cottage door-- the haughty and rich to the humble and poor? 'tis the great southern planter--the master who waves his whip of dominion o'er hundreds of slaves. "nay, ellen, for shame! let those yankee fools spin, who would pass for our slaves with a change of their skin; let them toil as they will at the loom or the wheel too stupid for shame and too vulgar to feel! "but thou art too lovely and precious a gem to be bound to their burdens and sullied by them-- for shame, ellen, shame!--cast thy bondage aside, and away to the south, as my blessing and pride. "o, come where no winter thy footsteps can wrong, but where flowers are blossoming all the year long, where the shade of the palm-tree is over my home, and the lemon and orange are white in their bloom! "o, come to my home, where my servants shall all depart at thy bidding and come at thy call; they shall heed thee as mistress with trembling and awe, and each wish of thy heart shall be felt as a law." o, could ye have seen her--that pride of our girls-- arise and cast back the dark wealth of her curls, with a scorn in her eye which the gazer could feel, and a glance like the sunshine that flashes on steel: "go back, haughty southron! thy treasures of gold are dim with the blood of the hearts thou hast sold! thy home may be lovely, but round it i hear the crack of the whip and the footsteps of fear! "and the sky of thy south may be brighter than ours, and greener thy landscapes, and fairer thy flowers; but, dearer the blast round our mountains which raves, than the sweet sunny zephyr which breathes over slaves! "full low at thy bidding thy negroes may kneel, with the iron of bondage on spirit and heel; yet know that the yankee girl sooner would be in _fetters_ with _them_, than in freedom with _thee!_" from tait's edinburgh magazine. jefferson's daughter. "it is asserted, on the authority of an american newspaper, that the daughter of thomas jefferson, late president of the united states, was sold at new orleans for $ , ."--morning chronicle. can the blood that, at lexington, poured o'er the plain, when the sons warred with tyrants their rights to uphold, can the tide of niagara wipe out the stain? no! jefferson's child has been bartered for gold! do you boast of your freedom? peace, babblers--be still; prate not of the goddess who scarce deigns to hear; have ye power to unbind? are ye wanting in will? must the groans of your bondman still torture the ear? the daughter of jefferson sold for a slave! the child of a freeman for dollars and francs! the roar of applause, when your orators rave, is lost in the sound of her chain, as it clanks. peace, then, ye blasphemers of liberty's name! though red was the blood by your forefathers spilt, still redder your cheeks should be mantled with shame, till the spirit of freedom shall cancel the guilt. but the brand of the slave is the tint of his skin, though his heart may beat loyal and true underneath; while the soul of the tyrant is rotten within, and his white the mere cloak to the blackness of death. are ye deaf to the plaints that each moment arise? is it thus ye forget the mild precepts of penn,-- unheeding the clamor that "maddens the skies," as ye trample the rights of your dark fellow-men? when the incense that glows before liberty's shrine, is unmixed with the blood of the galled and oppressed, o, then, and then only, the boast may be thine, that the stripes and stars wave o'er a land of the blest. the slave-auction--a fact. why stands she near the auction stand, that girl so young and fair; what brings her to this dismal place, why stands she weeping there? why does she raise that bitter cry? why hangs her head with shame, as now the auctioneer's rough voice, so rudely calls her name? but see! she grasps a manly hand, and in a voice so low, as scarcely to be heard, she says, 'my brother, must i go?' a moment's pause: then midst a wail of agonizing woe, his answer falls upon the ear, 'yes, sister, you must go!' 'no longer can my arm defend, no longer can i save my sister from the horrid fate that waits her as a slave!' ah! now i know why she is there, she came there to be sold! that lovely form, that noble mind, must be exchanged for gold! o god! my every heart-string cries, dost thou these scenes behold in this our boasted christian land, and must the truth be told? blush, christian, blush! for e'en the dark untutored heathen see thy inconsistency, and lo! they scorn thy god, and thee! get off the track. air--dan tucker. ho! the car emancipation rides majestic thro' our nation, bearing on its train the story, liberty! a nation's glory. roll it along, thro' the nation, freedom's car, emancipation! first of all the train, and greater, speeds the dauntless liberator, onward cheered amid hosannas, and the waving of free banners. roll it along! spread your banners, while the people shout hosannas. men of various predilections, frightened, run in all directions; merchants, editors, physicians, lawyers, priests, and politicians. get out of the way! every station! clear the track of 'mancipation! let the ministers and churches leave behind sectarian lurches; jump on board the car of freedom, ere it be too late to need them. sound the alarm! pulpits thunder! ere too late you see your blunder! politicians gazed, astounded, when, at first, our bell resounded; _freight trains_ are coming, tell these foxes, with our _votes_ and _ballot boxes_. jump for your lives! politicians, from your dangerous, false positions. all true friends of emancipation, haste to freedom's railroad station; quick into the cars get seated, all is ready and completed. put on the steam! all are crying, and the liberty flags are flying. now again the bell is tolling, soon you'll see the car-wheels rolling; hinder not their destination, chartered for emancipation. wood up the fire! keep it flashing, while the train goes onward dashing. hear the mighty car-wheels humming! now look out! _the engine's coming!_ church and statesmen! hear the thunder! clear the track or you'll fall under. get off the track! all are singing, while the _liberty bell_ is ringing. on, triumphant see them bearing, through sectarian rubbish tearing; the bell and whistle and the steaming, startle thousands from their dreaming. look out for the cars while the bell rings! ere the sound your funeral knell rings. see the people run to meet us; at the depots thousands greet us; all take seats with exultation, in the car emancipation. huzza! huzza!! emancipation soon will bless our happy nation, huzza! huzza! huzza!!! be free, o man, be free. the storm-winds wildly blowing, the bursting billows mock, as with their foam-crests glowing, they dash the sea-girt rock; amid the wild commotion, the revel of the sea, a voice is on the ocean, be free, o man, be free. behold the sea-brine leaping high in the murky air; list to the tempest sweeping in chainless fury there. what moves the mighty torrent, and bids it flow abroad? or turns the rapid current? what, but the voice of god? then, answer, is the spirit less noble or less free? from whom does it inherit the doom of slavery? when man can bind the waters, that they no longer roll, then let him forge the fetters to clog the human soul. till then a voice is stealing from earth and sea and sky, and to the soul revealing its immortality. the swift wind chants the numbers careering o'er the sea, and earth, aroused from slumbers, re-echoes, "man, be free." the fugitive slave to the christian. the fetters galled my weary soul-- a soul that seemed but thrown away; i spurned the tyrant's base control, resolved at last the man to play:-- the hounds are baying on my track; o christian! will you send me back? i felt the stripes, the lash i saw, red, dripping with a father's gore; and worst of all their lawless law, the insults that my mother bore! the hounds are baying on my track, o christian! will you send me back? where human law o'errules divine, beneath the sheriff's hammer fell my wife and babes,--i call them mine,-- and where they suffer, who can tell? the hounds are baying on my track, o christian! will you send me back? i seek a home where man is man, if such there be upon this earth, to draw my kindred, if i can, around its free, though humble hearth. the hounds are baying on my track, o christian! will you send me back? rescue the slave! air--the troubadour. this song was composed while george latimer, the fugitive slave, was confined in leverett street jail, boston, expecting to be carried back to virginia by james b. gray, his claimant. sadly the fugitive weeps in his cell, listen awhile to the story we tell; listen ye gentle ones, listen ye brave, lady fair! lady fair! weep for the slave. praying for liberty, dearer than life, torn from his little one, torn from his wife, flying from slavery, hear him and save, christian men! christian men! help the poor slave. think of his agony, feel for his pain, should his hard master e'er hold him again; spirit of liberty, rise from your grave, make him free, make him free, rescue the slave. freely the slave master goes where he will; freemen, stand ready, his wishes to fulfil, helping the tyrant, or honest or knave, thinking not, caring not, for the poor slave. talk not of liberty, liberty is dead; see the slave master's whip over our head; stooping beneath it, we ask what he craves, boston boys! boston boys! catch me my slaves. freemen, arouse ye, before it's too late; slavery is knocking, at every gate, make good the promise, your early days gave, boston boys! boston boys! rescue the slave. the slave-holder's address to the north star. star of the north! thou art not bigger than is the diamond in my ring; yet, every black, star-gazing nigger looks at thee, as at some great thing! yes, gazes at thee, till the lazy and thankless rascal is half crazy. some abolitionist has told them, that, if they take their flight toward thee, they'll get where "massa" cannot hold them, and therefore to the north they flee. fools to be led off, where they can't earn their living, by thy lying lantern. we will to new england write, and tell them not to let thee shine (excepting of a cloudy night) anywhere south of dixon's line; if beyond that thou shine an inch, we'll have thee up before judge lynch. and when, thou abolition star, who preachest freedom in all weathers, thou hast got on thy coat of tar, and over that, a cloak of feathers, thou art "fixed" none will deny, if there's a fixed star in the sky. song of the coffle gang. this song is said to be sung by slaves, as they are chained in gangs, when parting from friends for the far off south--children taken from parents, husbands from wives, and brothers from sisters. see these poor souls from africa, transported to america: we are stolen, and sold to georgia, will you go along with me? we are stolen and sold to georgia, go sound the jubilee. see wives and husbands sold apart, the children's screams!--it breaks my heart; there's a better day a coming, will you go along with me? there's a better day a coming, go sound the jubilee. o, gracious lord? when shall it be, that we poor souls shall all be free? lord, break them slavery powers--will you go along with me? lord, break them slavery powers, go sound the jubilee. dear lord! dear lord! when slavery'll cease, then we poor souls can have our peace; there's a better day a coming, will you go along with me? there's a better day a coming, go sound the jubilee. zaza--the female slave. o, my country, my country! how long i for thee, far over the mountain, far over the sea. where the sweet joliba, kisses the shore, say, shall i wander by thee never more? where the sweet joliba kisses the shore, say, shall i wander by thee never more. say, o fond zurima, where dost thou stay? say, doth another list to thy sweet lay? say, doth the orange still bloom near our cot? zurima, zurima, am i forgot? o, my country, my country, how long i for thee, far over the mountain, far over the sea. under the baobab oft have i slept, fanned by sweet breezes that over me swept. often in dreams do my weary limbs lay 'neath the same baobab, far, far away. o, my country, my country, how long i for thee, far over the mountain, far over the sea. o, for the breath of our own waving palm, here, as i languish, my spirit to calm-- o, for a draught from our own cooling lake, brought by sweet mother, my spirit to wake. o, my country, my country, how long i for thee, far over the mountain, far over the sea. ye heralds of freedom. ye heralds of freedom, ye noble and brave, who dare to insist on the rights of the slave, go onward, go onward, your cause is of god, and he will soon sever the oppressor's strong rod. the finger of slander may now at you point, that finger will soon lose the strength of its joint; and those who now plead for the rights of the slave, will soon be acknowledged the good and the brave. though thrones and dominions, and kingdoms and powers, may now all oppose you, the victory is yours; the banner of jesus will soon be unfurled, and he will give freedom and peace to the world. go under his standard and fight by his side, o'er mountains and billows you'll then safely ride; his gracious protection will be to you given, and bright crowns of glory he'll give you in heaven. we're coming! we're coming. air--kinloch of kinloch. we're coming, we're coming, the fearless and free, like the winds of the desert, the waves of the sea! true sons of brave sires who battled of yore, when england's proud lion ran wild on our shore! we're coming, we're coming, from mountain and glen, with hearts to do battle for freedom again; oppression is trembling as trembled before the slavery which fled from our fathers of yore. we're coming, we're coming, with banners unfurled, our motto is freedom, our country the world; our watchword is liberty--tyrants beware! for the liberty army will bring you despair! we're coming, we're coming, we'll come from afar, our standard we'll nail to humanity's car; with shoutings we'll raise it, in triumph to wave, a trophy of conquest, or shroud for the brave. then arouse ye, brave hearts, to the rescue come on! the man-stealing army we'll surely put down; they are crushing their millions, but soon they must yield, for _freemen_ have _risen_ and taken the field. then arouse ye! arouse ye! the fearless and free, like the winds of the desert, the waves of the sea; let the north, west, and east, to the sea-beaten shore, _resound_ with a _liberty triumph_ once more. on to victory. air--scots wha hae. children of the glorious dead, who for freedom fought and bled, with her banner o'er you spread, on to victory. not for stern ambition's prize, do our hopes and wishes rise; lo, our leader from the skies, bids us do or die. ours is not the tented field-- we no earthly weapons wield-- light and love, our sword and shield, truth our panoply. this is proud oppression's hour; storms are round us; shall we cower? while beneath a despot's power groans the suffering slave? while on every southern gale, comes the helpless captive's tale, and the voice of woman's wail, and of man's despair? while our homes and rights are dear, guarded still with watchful fear, shall we coldly turn our ear from the suppliant's prayer? never! by our country's shame-- never! by a saviour's claim, to the men of every name, whom he died to save. onward, then, ye fearless band-- heart to heart, and hand to hand; yours shall be the patriot's stand, or the martyr's grave. the man for me. air--the rose that all are praising. o, he is not the man for me, who buys or sells a slave, nor he who will not set him free, but sends him to his grave; but he whose noble heart beats warm for all men's life and liberty; who loves alike each human form, o, that's the man for me. he's not at all the man for me, who sells a man for gain, who bends the pliant servile knee, to slavery's god of shame! but he whose god-like form erect proclaims that all alike are free to think, and speak, and vote, and act, o, that's the man for me. he sure is not the man for me whose spirit will succumb, when men endowed with liberty lie bleeding, bound and dumb; but he whose faithful words of might ring through the land from shore to sea, for man's eternal equal right, o, that's the man for me. no, no, he's not the man for me whose voice o'er hill and plain, breaks forth for glorious liberty, but binds himself, the chain! the mightiest of the noble band who prays and toils the world to free, with head, and heart, and voice, and vote, o, that's the man for me. the bondman. air--troubadour. feebly the bondman toiled, sadly he wept-- then to his wretched cot mournfully crept; how doth his free-born soul pine 'neath his chain! slavery! slavery! dark is thy reign. long ere the break of day, roused from repose, wearily toiling till after its close-- praying for freedom, he spends his last breath: liberty! liberty! give me or death. when, when, o lord! will right triumph o'er wrong? tyrants oppress the weak, o lord! how long? hark! hark! a peal resounds from shore to shore-- tyranny! tyranny! thy reign is o'er. e'en now the morning gleams from the east-- despots are feeling their triumph is past-- strong hearts are answering to freedom's loud call-- liberty! liberty! full and for all. right on. air--lenox. ho! children of the brave, ho! freemen of the land, that hurl'd into the grave oppression's bloody band; come on, come on, and joined be we to make the fettered bondman free. let coward vassals sneak from freedom's battle still, poltroons that dare not speak but as their priests may will; come on, come on, and joined be we to make the fettered bondman free. on parchment, scroll and creed, with human life blood red, untrembling at the deed, plant firm your manly tread; the priest may howl, the jurist rave, but we will free the fettered slave. the tyrant's scorn is vain, in vain the slanderer's breath, we'll rush to break the chain, e'en on the jaws of death; hurrah! hurrah! right on go we, the fettered slave shall yet be free. right on, in freedom's name, and in the strength of god, wipe out the damning stain, and break the oppressor's rod; hurrah! hurrah! right on go we, the fettered slave shall yet be free. fugitive's triumph. go, go, thou that enslav'st me, now, now thy power is o'er; long, long have i obeyed thee, i'm not a slave any more; no, no--oh, no! i'm a _free man_ ever more! thou, thou brought'st me ever, deep, deep sorrow and pain; but i have left thee forever, nor will i serve thee again; no, no--oh, no! no, i'll not serve thee again. tyrant! thou hast bereft me home, friends, pleasures so sweet; now, forever i've left thee, thou and i never shall meet; no, no--oh, no! thou and i never shall meet. joys, joys, bright as the morning, now, now, on me will pour, hope, hope, on me is dawning, _i'm not a slave any more!_ no, no--oh, no, i'm a free man evermore! a song for freedom. air--dandy jim. come all ye bondmen far and near, let's put a song in massa's ear, it is a song for our poor race, who're whipped and trampled with disgrace. chorus. my old massa tells me o this is a land of freedom o; let's look about and see if't is so, just as massa tells me o. he tells us of that glorious one, i think his name was washington, how he did fight for liberty, to save a threepence tax on tea. chorus. my old massa, &c. and then he tells us that there was a constitution, with this clause, that all men equal were created, how often have we heard it stated. chorus. my old massa, &c. but now we look about and see, that we poor blacks are not so free; we 're whipped and thrashed about like fools, and have no chance at common schools. chorus. still, my old massa, &c. they take our wives, insult and mock, and sell our children on the block, then choke us if we say a word, and say that "niggers" shan't be heard. chorus. still, my old massa, &c. our preachers, too, with whip and cord, command obedience in the lord; they say they learn it from the book, but for ourselves we dare not look. chorus. still, my old massa tells me o, this is a _christian_ country o, &c. there is a country far away, friend hopper says 't is canada, and if we reach victoria's shore, he says that we are slaves no more. chorus. now hasten all bondmen, let us go and leave this christian country o; haste to the land of the british queen, where whips for negroes are not seen. now if we go, we must take the night-- we're sure to die if we come in sight-- the blood-hounds will be on our track, and wo to us if they fetch us back. chorus. now haste all bondmen, let us go, and leave this _christian_ country o; god help us to victoria's shore, where we are free and slaves no more. freedom's banner. air--freedom's banner. my country, shall thy honored name, be as a by-word through the world? rouse! for as if to blast thy fame, this keen reproach is at thee hurled; the banner that above thee waves, is floating over three millions slaves. that flag, my country, i had thought, from noble sires was given to thee, by the best blood of patriots bought, to wave alone above the free! yet now, while to the breeze it waves, it floats above three millions slaves, the mighty dead that flag unrolled, they bathed it in the heaven's own blue; they sprinkled stars upon each fold, and gave it as a trust to you; and now that glorious banner waves in shame above three millions slaves. o, by the virtues of our sires, and by the soil on which they trod, and by the trust their name inspires, and by the hope we have in god, arouse, my country, and agree to set thy captive children free. arouse! and let each hill and glen with prayer to the high heavens ring out, till all our land with freeborn men, may join in one triumphant shout, that freedom's banner does not wave its folds above a single slave. your brother is a slave. o weep, ye friends of freedom, weep! shout liberty no more; your harps to mournful measures sweep, till slavery's reign is o'er. o, furl your star-lit thing of light-- that banner should not wave where, vainly pleading for his right, your brother toils--_a slave!_ o pray, ye friends of freedom, pray for those who toil in chains, who lift their fettered hands to day on carolina's plain! god is the hope of the oppressed; his arm is strong to save; pray, then, that freedom's cause be blest, your brother is _a slave!_ o toil, ye friends of freedom, toil! your mission to fulfil,-- that freedom's consecrated soil slaves may no longer till; ay, toil and pray from deep disgrace your native land to save; weep o'er the miseries of your race, _your brother is a slave!_ come join the abolitionists. air--when i can read my title clear. come join the abolitionists, ye young men bold and strong. and with a warm and cheerful zeal, come help the cause along; o that will be joyful, joyful, joyful, o that will be joyful, when slavery is no more, when slavery is no more. 'tis then we'll sing, and offerings bring, when slavery is no more. come join the abolitionists, ye men of riper years, and save your wives and children dear, from grief and bitter tears; o that will be joyful, joyful, joyful, o that will be joyful, when slavery is no more, when slavery is no more, 'tis then we'll sing, and offerings bring, when slavery is no more. come join the abolitionists, ye dames and maidens fair, and breathe around us in our path affection's hallowed air; o that will be joyful, joyful, joyful, o that will be joyful, when woman cheers us on, when woman cheers us on, to conquests not yet won. 'tis then we'll sing, and offerings bring, when woman cheers us on. come join the abolitionists, ye sons and daughters all of this our own america-- come at the friendly call; o that will be joyful, joyful, joyful, o that will be joyful, when all shall proudly say, this, this is freedom's day--oppression flee away! 't is then we'll sing, and offerings bring, when freedom wins the day. there's a good time coming. there's a good time coming boys, a good time coming; there's a good time coming boys, wait a little longer. we may not live to see the day, but earth shall glisten in the ray of the good time coming; cannon balls may aid the truth, but thought's a weapon stronger; we'll win our battle by its aid, wait a little longer. o, there's a good time, &c. there's a good time coming boys, a good time coming; the pen shall supersede the sword, and right, not might shall be the lord, in the good time coming. worth, not birth shall rule mankind, and be acknowledged stronger, the proper impulse has been given, wait a little longer. o, there's a good time, &c. there's a good time coming boys, a good time coming; hateful rivalries of creed, shall not make their martyrs bleed, in the good time coming. religion shall be shorn of pride, and flourish all the stronger; and charity shall trim her lamp, wait a little longer. o, there's a good time, &c. there's a good time coming boys, a good time coming; war in all men's eyes shall be, a monster of iniquity, in the good time coming. nations shall not quarrel then, to prove which is the stronger; nor slaughter men for glory's sake, wait a little longer. o, there's a good time, &c. the bigot fire. written on the occasion of george latimer's imprisonment in levorott street jail, boston. o, kindle not that bigot fire, 't will bring disunion, fear and pain; 't will rouse at last the souther's ire, and burst our starry land in twain. theirs is the high, the noble worth, the very soul of chivalry; rend not our blood-bought land apart, for such a thing as slavery. this is the language of the north, i shame to say it but't is true; and anti-slavery calls it forth, from some proud priests and laymen too. what! bend forsooth to southern rule? what! cringe and crawl to souther's clay, and be the base, the supple tool, of hell-begotten slavery? no! never, while the free air plays o'er our rough hills and sunny fountains, shall proud new england's sons be _free_, and clank their fetters round her mountains. go if ye will and grind in dust, dark afric's poor, degraded child; wring from his sinews gold accursed, and boast your gospel warm and mild. while on our mountain tops the pine in freedom her green branches wave, her sons shall never stoop to bind the galling shackle of the slave. ye dare demand with haughty tone, for us to pander to your shame, to give our brother up alone, to feel the lash and wear the chain. our brother never shall go back, when once he presses our free shore; though souther's power with hell to back, comes thundering at our northern door. no! rather be our starry land, into a thousand fragments riven; upon our own free hills we'll stand, and pour upon the breeze of heaven, a curse so loud, so stern, so deep, shall start ye in your guilty sleep. oft in the chilly night. oft in the chilly night, ere slumber's chain has bound me, when all her silvery light the moon is pouring round me, beneath its ray i kneel and pray that god would give some token that slavery's chains on southern plains, shall all ere long be broken; yes, in the chilly night, though slavery's chain has bound me, kneel i, and feel the might of god's right arm around me. when at the driver's call, in cold or sultry weather, we slaves, both great and small, turn out to toil together, i feel like one from whom the sun of hope has long departed; and morning's light, and weary night, still find me broken hearted; thus, when the chilly breath of night is sighing round me, kneel i, and wish that death in his cold chain had bound me. are ye truly free? air--martyn. men! whose boast it is that ye come of fathers brave and free; if there breathe on earth a slave, are ye truly free and brave? are ye not base slaves indeed, men unworthy to be freed, if ye do not feel the chain, when it works a brother's pain? women! who shall one day bear sons to breathe god's bounteous air, if ye hear without a blush, deeds to make the roused blood rush like red lava through your veins, for your sisters now in chains; answer! are ye fit to be mothers of the brave and free? is true freedom but to break fetters for our own dear sake, and, with leathern hearts forget that we owe mankind a debt? no! true freedom is to share all the chains our brothers wear, and with hand and heart to be earnest to make others free. they are slaves who fear to speak for the fallen and the weak; they are slaves, who will not choose hatred, scoffing, and abuse, rather than, in silence, shrink from the truth they needs must think; they are slaves, who dare not be in the right with _two_ or _three_. emancipation song. air--crambambule. let waiting throngs now lift their voices, as freedom's glorious day draws near, while every gentle tongue rejoices, and each bold heart is filled with cheer; the slave has seen the northern star, he'll soon be free, hurrah, hurrah! though many still are writhing under the cruel whips of "chevaliers," who mothers from their children sunder, and scourge them for their helpless tears-- their safe deliverance is not far! the day draws nigh!--hurrah, hurrah! just ere the dawn the darkness deepest surrounds the earth as with a pall; dry up thy tears, o thou that weepest, that on thy sight the rays may fall! no doubt let now thy bosom mar; send up the shout--hurrah, hurrah! shall we distrust the god of heaven?-- he every doubt and fear will quell; by him the captive's chains are riven-- so let us loud the chorus swell! man shall be free from cruel law,-- man shall be man!--hurrah, hurrah! no more again shall it be granted to southern overseers to rule-- no more will pilgrims' sons be taunted with cringing low in slavery's school. so clear the way for freedom's car-- the free shall rule!--hurrah, hurrah! send up the shout emancipation-- from heaven let the echoes bound-- soon will it bless this franchised nation, come raise again the stirring sound! emancipation near and far-- swell up the shout--hurrah! hurrah! what mean ye? air--ortonville. what mean ye that ye bruise and bind my people, saith the lord, and starve your craving brother's mind, who asks to hear my word? what mean ye that ye make them toil, through long and dreary years, and shed like rain upon your soil their blood and bitter tears? what mean ye, that ye dare to rend the tender mother's heart? brothers from sisters, friend from friend, how dare you bid them part? what mean ye, when god's bounteous hand to you so much has given, that from the slave who tills your land ye keep both earth and heaven? when at the judgment god shall call, where is thy brother? say, what mean ye to the judge of all to answer on that day? light of truth. hark! a voice from heaven proclaiming comfort to the mourning slave: god has heard him long complaining, and extends his arm to save; proud oppression soon shall find a shameful grave. see! the light of truth is breaking full and clear on every hand; and the voice of mercy, speaking, now is heard through all the land; firm and fearless, see the friends of freedom stand! lo! the nation is arousing from its slumbers, long and deep; and the church of god is waking, never, never more to sleep, while a bondman in his chains remains to weep. long, too long, have we been dreaming o'er our country's sin and shame: let us now, the time redeeming, press the helpless captive's claim, till, exulting, he shall cast aside his chain. the flying slave. air--to greece we give our shining blades. the night is dark, and keen the air, and the slave is flying to be free; his parting word is one short prayer; o god, but give me liberty! farewell--farewell; behind i leave the whips and chains, before me spreads sweet freedom's plains. one star shines in the heavens above, that guides him on his lonely way;-- star of the north--how deep his love for thee, thou star of liberty! farewell--farewell; behind he leaves the whips and chains, before him spreads sweet freedom's plains. index. am i not a man and brother? a.c.l. o, pity the slave mother. words from liberator the blind slave boy. mrs. bailey ye sons of freemen. mrs. j.g. carter freedom's star. harris liberty ball. clarke emancipation hymn. over the mountain. j. hutchinson jr. jubilee song. spirit of freemen, wake. slave's lamentation. parody tucker flight of the bondman. smith sweets of liberty. ye spirits of the free. colonization song. a slaveholder i am an abolitionist. garrison the bereaved mother. j. hutchinson the chase. douglass' north star fling out the anti slavery flag. the yankee girl. whittier jefferson's daughter. the auction. get off the track. j. hutchinson jr. be free, o man, be free. m.h. maxwell fugitive slave to the christian. e. wright jr. rescue the slave. latimer journal slave-holder to the north star. pierpont the coffle gang. a slave zaza, the female slave. miss ball we're coming. on to victory. the man for me. parody tucker the bondman. words from liberator right on. a christian fugitive's triumph. freedom's banner. r.c. wateson good time coming. j. hutchinson jr. a song for freedom. your brother is a slave. d.h. jaques come join the abolitionists. the bigot fire. john ramsdale oft in the chilly night. pierpont are ye truly free? j.r. lowell emancipation song. bangor gazette what mean ye? light of truth. oliver johnson flying slave. bangor gazette ye heralds of freedom. joyce wilson, espe (nada prodanovic), and the pg finale project team. [transcriber's notes: -page vii: the word following "view of what owen" was unclear, and may not be the "writes" which has been chosen. -(mus. not.) following a title means that the original book contains musical notation for that song.] cowboy songs and other frontier ballads what keeps the herd from running, stampeding far and wide? the cowboy's long, low whistle, and singing by their side. cowboy songs and other frontier ballads collected by john a. lomax, m.a. the university of texas sheldon fellow for the investigation of american ballads, harvard university with an introduction by barrett wendell _new york_ the macmillan company _all rights reserved_ copyright, , , by sturgis & walton company. set up and electrotyped. published november, . reprinted april, ; january, . new edition with additions, march, ; april, ; december, ; july, . reissued january, . reprinted february, . printed in the united states of america. by berwick & smith co. _to_ mr. theodore roosevelt who while president was not too busy to turn aside--cheerfully and effectively--and aid workers in the field of american balladry, this volume is gratefully dedicated cheyenne aug th dear mr. lomax, you have done a work emphatically worth doing and one which should appeal to the people of all our country, but particularly to the people of the west and southwest. your subject is not only exceedingly interesting to the student of literature, but also to the student of the general history of the west. there is something very curious in the reproduction here on this new continent of essentially the conditions of ballad-growth which obtained in mediæval england; including, by the way, sympathy for the outlaw, jesse james taking the place of robin hood. under modern conditions however, the native ballad is speedily killed by competition with the music hall songs; the cowboys becoming ashamed to sing the crude homespun ballads in view of what owen writes calls the "ill-smelling saloon cleverness" of the far less interesting compositions of the music-hall singers. it is therefore a work of real importance to preserve permanently this unwritten ballad literature of the back country and the frontier. with all good wishes, i am very truly yours theodore roosevelt contents page araphoe, or buckskin joe arizona boys and girls, the bill peters, the stage driver billy the kid billy venero bob stanford bonnie black bess boozer, the boston burglar, the brigham young, i brigham young, ii bronc peeler's song bucking broncho buena vista battlefield buffalo hunters buffalo skinners, the bull whacker, the by markentura's flowery marge california joe california stage company california trail camp fire has gone out, the charlie rutlage chopo cole younger convict, the cow camp on the range, a cowboy, the cowboy at church, the cowboy at work, the cowboy's christmas ball, the cowboy's dream, the cowboy's lament, the cowboy's life, the cowboy's meditation, the cowgirl, the cowman's prayer, the crooked trail to holbrook, the dan taylor days of forty-nine, the deer hunt, a deserted adobe, the disheartened ranger, the dogie song down south on the rio grande dreary black hills, the dreary, dreary life, the drinking song drunkard's hell, the dying cowboy, the dying ranger, the fair fannie moore fools of forty-nine, the foreman monroe freckles, a fragment fuller and warren fragment, a fragment, a freighting from wilcox to globe gal i left behind me, the gol-darned wheel, the great round-up, the greer county habit, the happy miner, the hard times harry bale hell in texas hell-bound train, the here's to the ranger her white bosom bare home on the range, a horse wrangler, the i'm a good old rebel jack donahoo jack o' diamonds jerry, go ile that car jesse james jim farrow joe bowers john garner's trail herd jolly cowboy, the juan murray kansas line, the lackey bill last longhorn, the life in a half-breed shack little joe, the wrangler little old sod shanty, the lone buffalo hunter, the lone star trail, the love in disguise mccaffie's confession man named hods, a melancholy cowboy, the metis song of the buffalo hunters miner's song, the mississippi girls mormon song mormon bishop's lament, the mustang gray muster out the ranger new national anthem night-herding song old chisholm trail, the old gray mule, the old man under the hill, the old paint old scout's lament, the old scout's lament, the old time cowboy only a cowboy pecos queen, the pinto poor lonesome cowboy prisoner for life, a railroad corral, the rambling bay rambling cowboy, the range riders, the rattlesnake--a ranch haying song ripping trip, a road to cook's peak root hog or die rosin the bow rounded up in glory sam bass shanty boy, the silver jack sioux indians skew-ball black, the song of the "metis" trapper, the state of arkansaw, the sweet betsy from pike tail piece texas cowboy, the top hand texas rangers trail to mexico, the u.s.a. recruit, the utah carroll wars of germany, the way down in mexico westward ho when the work is done this fall whoopee-ti-yi-yo, git along little dogies whose old cow wild rovers windy bill u-s-u range young charlottie young companions zebra dun, the introduction it is now four or five years since my attention was called to the collection of native american ballads from the southwest, already begun by professor lomax. at that time, he seemed hardly to appreciate their full value and importance. to my colleague, professor g.l. kittredge, probably the most eminent authority on folk-song in america, this value and importance appeared as indubitable as it appeared to me. we heartily joined in encouraging the work, as a real contribution both to literature and to learning. the present volume is the first published result of these efforts. the value and importance of the work seems to me double. one phase of it is perhaps too highly special ever to be popular. whoever has begun the inexhaustibly fascinating study of popular song and literature--of the nameless poetry which vigorously lives through the centuries--must be perplexed by the necessarily conjectural opinions concerning its origin and development held by various and disputing scholars. when songs were made in times and terms which for centuries have been not living facts but facts of remote history or tradition, it is impossible to be sure quite how they begun, and by quite what means they sifted through the centuries into the forms at last securely theirs, in the final rigidity of print. in this collection of american ballads, almost if not quite uniquely, it is possible to trace the precise manner in which songs and cycles of song--obviously analogous to those surviving from older and antique times--have come into being. the facts which are still available concerning the ballads of our own southwest are such as should go far to prove, or to disprove, many of the theories advanced concerning the laws of literature as evinced in the ballads of the old world. such learned matter as this, however, is not so surely within my province, who have made no technical study of literary origins, as is the other consideration which made me feel, from my first knowledge of these ballads, that they are beyond dispute valuable and important. in the ballads of the old world, it is not historical or philological considerations which most readers care for. it is the wonderful, robust vividness of their artless yet supremely true utterance; it is the natural vigor of their surgent, unsophisticated human rhythm. it is the sense, derived one can hardly explain how, that here is expression straight from the heart of humanity; that here is something like the sturdy root from which the finer, though not always more lovely, flowers of polite literature have sprung. at times when we yearn for polite grace, ballads may seem rude; at times when polite grace seems tedious, sophisticated, corrupt, or mendacious, their very rudeness refreshes us with a new sense of brimming life. to compare the songs collected by professor lomax with the immortalities of olden time is doubtless like comparing the literature of america with that of all europe together. neither he nor any of us would pretend these verses to be of supreme power and beauty. none the less, they seem to me, and to many who have had a glimpse of them, sufficiently powerful, and near enough beauty, to give us some such wholesome and enduring pleasure as comes from work of this kind proved and acknowledged to be masterly. what i mean may best be implied, perhaps, by a brief statement of fact. four or five years ago, professor lomax, at my request, read some of these ballads to one of my classes at harvard, then engaged in studying the literary history of america. from that hour to the present, the men who heard these verses, during the cheerless progress of a course of study, have constantly spoken of them and written of them, as of something sure to linger happily in memory. as such i commend them to all who care for the native poetry of america. barrett wendell. nahant, massachusetts, july , . collector's note out in the wild, far-away places of the big and still unpeopled west,--in the cañons along the rocky mountains, among the mining camps of nevada and montana, and on the remote cattle ranches of texas, new mexico, and arizona,--yet survives the anglo-saxon ballad spirit that was active in secluded districts in england and scotland even after the coming of tennyson and browning. this spirit is manifested both in the preservation of the english ballad and in the creation of local songs. illiterate people, and people cut off from newspapers and books, isolated and lonely,--thrown back on primal resources for entertainment and for the expression of emotion,--utter themselves through somewhat the same character of songs as did their forefathers of perhaps a thousand years ago. in some such way have been made and preserved the cowboy songs and other frontier ballads contained in this volume. the songs represent the operation of instinct and tradition. they are chiefly interesting to the present generation, however, because of the light they throw on the conditions of pioneer life, and more particularly because of the information they contain concerning that unique and romantic figure in modern civilization, the american cowboy. the profession of cow-punching, not yet a lost art in a group of big western states, reached its greatest prominence during the first two decades succeeding the civil war. in texas, for example, immense tracts of open range, covered with luxuriant grass, encouraged the raising of cattle. one person in many instances owned thousands. to care for the cattle during the winter season, to round them up in the spring and mark and brand the yearlings, and later to drive from texas to fort dodge, kansas, those ready for market, required large forces of men. the drive from texas to kansas came to be known as "going up the trail," for the cattle really made permanent, deep-cut trails across the otherwise trackless hills and plains of the long way. it also became the custom to take large herds of young steers from texas as far north as montana, where grass at certain seasons grew more luxuriant than in the south. texas was the best breeding ground, while the climate and grass of montana developed young cattle for the market. a trip up the trail made a distinct break in the monotonous life of the big ranches, often situated hundreds of miles from where the conventions of society were observed. the ranch community consisted usually of the boss, the straw-boss, the cowboys proper, the horse wrangler, and the cook--often a negro. these men lived on terms of practical equality. except in the case of the boss, there was little difference in the amounts paid each for his services. society, then, was here reduced to its lowest terms. the work of the men, their daily experiences, their thoughts, their interests, were all in common. such a community had necessarily to turn to itself for entertainment. songs sprang up naturally, some of them tender and familiar lays of childhood, others original compositions, all genuine, however crude and unpolished. whatever the most gifted man could produce must bear the criticism of the entire camp, and agree with the ideas of a group of men. in this sense, therefore, any song that came from such a group would be the joint product of a number of them, telling perhaps the story of some stampede they had all fought to turn, some crime in which they had all shared equally, some comrade's tragic death which they had all witnessed. the song-making did not cease as the men went up the trail. indeed the songs were here utilized for very practical ends. not only were sharp, rhythmic yells--sometimes beaten into verse--employed to stir up lagging cattle, but also during the long watches the night-guards, as they rode round and round the herd, improvised cattle lullabies which quieted the animals and soothed them to sleep. some of the best of the so-called "dogie songs" seem to have been created for the purpose of preventing cattle stampedes,--such songs coming straight from the heart of the cowboy, speaking familiarly to his herd in the stillness of the night. the long drives up the trail occupied months, and called for sleepless vigilance and tireless activity both day and night. when at last a shipping point was reached, the cattle marketed or loaded on the cars, the cowboys were paid off. it is not surprising that the consequent relaxation led to reckless deeds. the music, the dancing, the click of the roulette ball in the saloons, invited; the lure of crimson lights was irresistible. drunken orgies, reactions from months of toil, deprivation, and loneliness on the ranch and on the trail, brought to death many a temporarily crazed buckaroo. to match this dare-deviltry, a saloon man in one frontier town, as a sign for his business, with psychological ingenuity painted across the broad front of his building in big black letters this challenge to god, man, and the devil: _the road to ruin_. down this road, with swift and eager footsteps, has trod many a pioneer viking of the west. quick to resent an insult real or fancied, inflamed by unaccustomed drink, the ready pistol always at his side, the tricks of the professional gambler to provoke his sense of fair play, and finally his own wild recklessness to urge him on,--all these combined forces sometimes brought him into tragic conflict with another spirit equally heedless and daring. not nearly so often, however, as one might suppose, did he die with his boots on. many of the most wealthy and respected citizens now living in the border states served as cowboys before settling down to quiet domesticity. a cow-camp in the seventies generally contained several types of men. it was not unusual to find a negro who, because of his ability to handle wild horses or because of his skill with a lasso, had been promoted from the chuck-wagon to a place in the ranks of the cowboys. another familiar figure was the adventurous younger son of some british family, through whom perhaps became current the english ballads found in the west. furthermore, so considerable was the number of men who had fled from the states because of grave imprudence or crime, it was bad form to inquire too closely about a person's real name or where he came from. most cowboys, however, were bold young spirits who emigrated to the west for the same reason that their ancestors had come across the seas. they loved roving; they loved freedom; they were pioneers by instinct; an impulse set their faces from the east, put the tang for roaming in their veins, and sent them ever, ever westward. that the cowboy was brave has come to be axiomatic. if his life of isolation made him taciturn, it at the same time created a spirit of hospitality, primitive and hearty as that found in the mead-halls of beowulf. he faced the wind and the rain, the snow of winter, the fearful dust-storms of alkali desert wastes, with the same uncomplaining quiet. not all his work was on the ranch and the trail. to the cowboy, more than to the goldseekers, more than to uncle sam's soldiers, is due the conquest of the west. along his winding cattle trails the forty-niners found their way to california. the cowboy has fought back the indians ever since ranching became a business and as long as indians remained to be fought. he played his part in winning the great slice of territory that the united states took away from mexico. he has always been on the skirmish line of civilization. restless, fearless, chivalric, elemental, he lived hard, shot quick and true, and died with his face to his foe. still much misunderstood, he is often slandered, nearly always caricatured, both by the press and by the stage. perhaps these songs, coming direct from the cowboy's experience, giving vent to his careless and his tender emotions, will afford future generations a truer conception of what he really was than is now possessed by those who know him only through highly colored romances. the big ranches of the west are now being cut up into small farms. the nester has come, and come to stay. gone is the buffalo, the indian warwhoop, the free grass of the open plain;--even the stinging lizard, the horned frog, the centipede, the prairie dog, the rattlesnake, are fast disappearing. save in some of the secluded valleys of southern new mexico, the old-time round-up is no more; the trails to kansas and to montana have become grass-grown or lost in fields of waving grain; the maverick steer, the regal longhorn, has been supplanted by his unpoetic but more beefy and profitable polled angus, durham, and hereford cousins from across the seas. the changing and romantic west of the early days lives mainly in story and in song. the last figure to vanish is the cowboy, the animating spirit of the vanishing era. he sits his horse easily as he rides through a wide valley, enclosed by mountains, clad in the hazy purple of coming night,--with his face turned steadily down the long, long road, "the road that the sun goes down." dauntless, reckless, without the unearthly purity of sir galahad though as gentle to a pure woman as king arthur, he is truly a knight of the twentieth century. a vagrant puff of wind shakes a corner of the crimson handkerchief knotted loosely at his throat; the thud of his pony's feet mingling with the jingle of his spurs is borne back; and as the careless, gracious, lovable figure disappears over the divide, the breeze brings to the ears, faint and far yet cheery still, the refrain of a cowboy song: whoopee ti yi, git along, little dogies; it's my misfortune and none of your own. whoopee ti yi, git along, little dogies; for you know wyoming will be your new home. as for the songs of this collection, i have violated the ethics of ballad-gatherers, in a few instances, by selecting and putting together what seemed to be the best lines from different versions, all telling the same story. frankly, the volume is meant to be popular. the songs have been arranged in some such haphazard way as they were collected,--jotted down on a table in the rear of saloons, scrawled on an envelope while squatting about a campfire, caught behind the scenes of a broncho-busting outfit. later, it is hoped that enough interest will be aroused to justify printing all the variants of these songs, accompanied by the music and such explanatory notes as may be useful; the negro folk-songs, the songs of the lumber jacks, the songs of the mountaineers, and the songs of the sea, already partially collected, being included in the final publication. the songs of this collection, never before in print, as a rule have been taken down from oral recitation. in only a few instances have i been able to discover the authorship of any song. they seem to have sprung up as quietly and mysteriously as does the grass on the plains. all have been popular with the range riders, several being current all the way from texas to montana, and quite as long as the old chisholm trail stretching between these states. some of the songs the cowboy certainly composed; all of them he sang. obviously, a number of the most characteristic cannot be printed for general circulation. to paraphrase slightly what sidney lanier said of walt whitman's poetry, they are raw collops slashed from the rump of nature, and never mind the gristle. likewise some of the strong adjectives and nouns have been softened,--jonahed, as george meredith would have said. there is, however, a homeric quality about the cowboy's profanity and vulgarity that pleases rather than repulses. the broad sky under which he slept, the limitless plains over which he rode, the big, open, free life he lived near to nature's breast, taught him simplicity, calm, directness. he spoke out plainly the impulses of his heart. but as yet so-called polite society is not quite willing to hear. it is entirely impossible to acknowledge the assistance i have received from many persons. to professors barrett wendell and g.l. kittredge, of harvard, i must gratefully acknowledge constant and generous encouragement. messrs. jeff hanna, of meridian, texas; john b. jones, a student of the agricultural and mechanical college of texas; h. knight, sterling city, texas; john lang sinclair, san antonio; a.h. belo & co., dallas; tom hight, of mangum, oklahoma; r. bedichek, of deming, n.m.; benjamin wyche, librarian of the carnegie library, san antonio; mrs. m.b. wight, of ft. thomas, arizona; dr. l.w. payne, jr., and dr. morgan callaway, jr., of the university of texas; and my brother, r.c. lomax, austin;--have rendered me especially helpful service in furnishing material, for which i also render grateful thanks. among the negroes, rivermen, miners, soldiers, seamen, lumbermen, railroad men, and ranchmen of the united states and canada there are many indigenous folk-songs not included in this volume. of some of them i have traces, and i shall surely run them down. i beg the co-operation of all who are interested in this vital, however humble, expression of american literature. j.a.l. deming, new mexico, august , . cowboy songs and other frontier ballads the dying cowboy[ ] "o bury me not on the lone prairie," these words came low and mournfully from the pallid lips of a youth who lay on his dying bed at the close of day. he had wailed in pain till o'er his brow death's shadows fast were gathering now; he thought of his home and his loved ones nigh as the cowboys gathered to see him die. "o bury me not on the lone prairie where the wild cayotes will howl o'er me, in a narrow grave just six by three, o bury me not on the lone prairie. "in fancy i listen to the well known words of the free, wild winds and the song of the birds; i think of home and the cottage in the bower and the scenes i loved in my childhood's hour. "it matters not, i've oft been told, where the body lies when the heart grows cold; yet grant, oh grant this wish to me, o bury me not on the lone prairie. "o then bury me not on the lone prairie, in a narrow grave six foot by three, where the buffalo paws o'er a prairie sea, o bury me not on the lone prairie. "i've always wished to be laid when i died in the little churchyard on the green hillside; by my father's grave, there let mine be, and bury me not on the lone prairie. "let my death slumber be where my mother's prayer and a sister's tear will mingle there, where my friends can come and weep o'er me; o bury me not on the lone prairie. "o bury me not on the lone prairie in a narrow grave just six by three, where the buzzard waits and the wind blows free; then bury me not on the lone prairie. "there is another whose tears may be shed for one who lies on a prairie bed; it pained me then and it pains me now;-- she has curled these locks, she has kissed this brow. "these locks she has curled, shall the rattlesnake kiss? this brow she has kissed, shall the cold grave press? for the sake of the loved ones that will weep for me o bury me not on the lone prairie. "o bury me not on the lone prairie where the wild cayotes will howl o'er me, where the buzzard beats and the wind goes free, o bury me not on the lone prairie. "o bury me not," and his voice failed there, but we took no heed of his dying prayer; in a narrow grave just six by three we buried him there on the lone prairie. where the dew-drops glow and the butterflies rest, and the flowers bloom o'er the prairie's crest; where the wild cayote and winds sport free on a wet saddle blanket lay a cowboy-ee. "o bury me not on the lone prairie where the wild cayotes will howl o'er me, where the rattlesnakes hiss and the crow flies free o bury me not on the lone prairie." o we buried him there on the lone prairie where the wild rose blooms and the wind blows free, o his pale young face nevermore to see,-- for we buried him there on the lone prairie. yes, we buried him there on the lone prairie where the owl all night hoots mournfully, and the blizzard beats and the winds blow free o'er his lowly grave on the lone prairie. and the cowboys now as they roam the plain,-- for they marked the spot where his bones were lain,-- fling a handful of roses o'er his grave, with a prayer to him who his soul will save. "o bury me not on the lone prairie where the wolves can howl and growl o'er me; fling a handful of roses o'er my grave with a prayer to him who my soul will save." [footnote : in this song, as in several others, the chorus should come in after each stanza. the arrangement followed has been adopted to illustrate versions current in different sections.] the dying cowboy (mus. not.) "o bu-ry me not on the lone prai-rie," these words came low ... and mourn-ful-ly ... from the pal-lid lips of a youth who lay on his dy-ing bed at the close of day. the days of forty-nine we are gazing now on old tom moore, a relic of bygone days; 'tis a bummer, too, they call me now, but what cares i for praise? it's oft, says i, for the days gone by, it's oft do i repine for the days of old when we dug out the gold in those days of forty-nine. my comrades they all loved me well, the jolly, saucy crew; a few hard cases, i will admit, though they were brave and true. whatever the pinch, they ne'er would flinch; they never would fret nor whine, like good old bricks they stood the kicks in the days of forty-nine. there's old "aunt jess," that hard old cuss, who never would repent; he never missed a single meal, nor never paid a cent. but old "aunt jess," like all the rest, at death he did resign, and in his bloom went up the flume in the days of forty-nine. there is ragshag jim, the roaring man, who could out-roar a buffalo, you bet, he roared all day and he roared all night, and i guess he is roaring yet. one night jim fell in a prospect hole,-- it was a roaring bad design,-- and in that hole jim roared out his soul in the days of forty-nine. there is wylie bill, the funny man, who was full of funny tricks, and when he was in a poker game he was always hard as bricks. he would ante you a stud, he would play you a draw, he'd go you a hatful blind,-- in a struggle with death bill lost his breath in the days of forty-nine. there was new york jake, the butcher boy, who was fond of getting tight. and every time he got on a spree he was spoiling for a fight. one night jake rampaged against a knife in the hands of old bob sine, and over jake they held a wake in the days of forty-nine. there was monte pete, i'll ne'er forget the luck he always had, he would deal for you both day and night or as long as he had a scad. it was a pistol shot that lay pete out, it was his last resign, and it caught pete dead sure in the door in the days of forty-nine. of all the comrades that i've had there's none that's left to boast, and i am left alone in my misery like some poor wandering ghost. and as i pass from town to town, they call me the rambling sign, since the days of old and the days of gold and the days of forty-nine. days of forty-nine (mus. not.) you are gaz-ing now on old tom moore, a rel-ic of by-gone days; 'tis a bum-mer now they call me. but what cares i for praise; it is oft, says i, for days gone by, it's oft do i repine for those days of old when we dug out the gold, in the days of for-ty-nine, in those days of old when we dug out the gold, in the days of for-ty-nine. joe bowers my name is joe bowers, i've got a brother ike, i came here from missouri, yes, all the way from pike. i'll tell you why i left there and how i came to roam, and leave my poor old mammy, so far away from home. i used to love a gal there, her name was sallie black, i asked her for to marry me, she said it was a whack. she says to me, "joe bowers, before you hitch for life, you ought to have a little home to keep your little wife." says i, "my dearest sallie, o sallie, for your sake, i'll go to california and try to raise a stake." says she to me, "joe bowers, you are the chap to win, give me a kiss to seal the bargain,"-- and i throwed a dozen in. i'll never forget my feelings when i bid adieu to all. sal, she cotched me round the neck and i began to bawl. when i begun they all commenced, you never heard the like, how they all took on and cried the day i left old pike. when i got to this here country i hadn't nary a red, i had such wolfish feelings i wished myself most dead. at last i went to mining, put in my biggest licks, came down upon the boulders just like a thousand bricks. i worked both late and early in rain and sun and snow, but i was working for my sallie so 'twas all the same to joe. i made a very lucky strike as the gold itself did tell, for i was working for my sallie, the girl i loved so well. but one day i got a letter from my dear, kind brother ike; it came from old missouri, yes, all the way from pike. it told me the goldarndest news that ever you did hear, my heart it is a-bustin' so please excuse this tear. i'll tell you what it was, boys, you'll bust your sides i know; for when i read that letter you ought to seen poor joe. my knees gave 'way beneath me, and i pulled out half my hair; and if you ever tell this now, you bet you'll hear me swear. it said my sallie was fickle, her love for me had fled, that she had married a butcher, whose hair was awful red; it told me more than that, it's enough to make me swear,-- it said that sallie had a baby and the baby had red hair. now i've told you all that i can tell about this sad affair, 'bout sallie marrying the butcher and the baby had red hair. but whether it was a boy or girl the letter never said, it only said its cussed hair was inclined to be red. the cowboy's dream[ ] last night as i lay on the prairie, and looked at the stars in the sky, i wondered if ever a cowboy would drift to that sweet by and by. roll on, roll on; roll on, little dogies, roll on, roll on, roll on, roll on; roll on, little dogies, roll on. the road to that bright, happy region is a dim, narrow trail, so they say; but the broad one that leads to perdition is posted and blazed all the way. they say there will be a great round-up, and cowboys, like dogies, will stand, to be marked by the riders of judgment who are posted and know every brand. i know there's many a stray cowboy who'll be lost at the great, final sale, when he might have gone in the green pastures had he known of the dim, narrow trail. i wonder if ever a cowboy stood ready for that judgment day, and could say to the boss of the riders, "i'm ready, come drive me away." for they, like the cows that are locoed, stampede at the sight of a hand, are dragged with a rope to the round-up, or get marked with some crooked man's brand. and i'm scared that i'll be a stray yearling,-- a maverick, unbranded on high,-- and get cut in the bunch with the "rusties" when the boss of the riders goes by. for they tell of another big owner whose ne'er overstocked, so they say, but who always makes room for the sinner who drifts from the straight, narrow way. they say he will never forget you, that he knows every action and look; so, for safety, you'd better get branded, have your name in the great tally book. [footnote : sung to the air of _my bonnie lies over the ocean_.] the cowboy's life[ ] the bawl of a steer, to a cowboy's ear, is music of sweetest strain; and the yelping notes of the gray cayotes to him are a glad refrain. and his jolly songs speed him along, as he thinks of the little gal with golden hair who is waiting there at the bars of the home corral. for a kingly crown in the noisy town his saddle he wouldn't change; no life so free as the life we see way out on the yaso range. his eyes are bright and his heart as light as the smoke of his cigarette; there's never a care for his soul to bear, no trouble to make him fret. the rapid beat of his broncho's feet on the sod as he speeds along, keeps living time to the ringing rhyme of his rollicking cowboy song. hike it, cowboys, for the range away on the back of a bronc of steel, with a careless flirt of the raw-hide quirt and a dig of a roweled heel! the winds may blow and the thunder growl or the breezes may safely moan;-- a cowboy's life is a royal life, his saddle his kingly throne. saddle up, boys, for the work is play when love's in the cowboy's eyes,-- when his heart is light as the clouds of white that swim in the summer skies. [footnote : attributed to james barton adams.] the kansas line come all you jolly cowmen, don't you want to go way up on the kansas line? where you whoop up the cattle from morning till night all out in the midnight rain. the cowboy's life is a dreadful life, he's driven through heat and cold; i'm almost froze with the water on my clothes, a-ridin' through heat and cold. i've been where the lightnin', the lightnin' tangled in my eyes, the cattle i could scarcely hold; think i heard my boss man say: "i want all brave-hearted men who ain't afraid to die to whoop up the cattle from morning till night, way up on the kansas line." speaking of your farms and your shanty charms, speaking of your silver and gold,-- take a cowman's advice, go and marry you a true and lovely little wife, never to roam, always stay at home; that's a cowman's, a cowman's advice, way up on the kansas line. think i heard the noisy cook say, "wake up, boys, it's near the break of day,"-- way up on the kansas line, and slowly we will rise with the sleepy feeling eyes, way up on the kansas line. the cowboy's life is a dreary, dreary life, all out in the midnight rain; i'm almost froze with the water on my clothes, way up on the kansas line. the cowman's prayer now, o lord, please lend me thine ear, the prayer of a cattleman to hear, no doubt the prayers may seem strange, but i want you to bless our cattle range. bless the round-ups year by year, and don't forget the growing steer; water the lands with brooks and rills for my cattle that roam on a thousand hills. prairie fires, won't you please stop? let thunder roll and water drop. it frightens me to see the smoke; unless it's stopped, i'll go dead broke. as you, o lord, my herd behold, it represents a sack of gold; i think at least five cents a pound will be the price of beef the year around. one thing more and then i'm through,-- instead of one calf, give my cows two. i may pray different from other men but i've had my say, and now, amen. the miner's song[ ] in a rusty, worn-out cabin sat a broken-hearted leaser, his singlejack was resting on his knee. his old "buggy" in the corner told the same old plaintive tale, his ore had left in all his poverty. he lifted his old singlejack, gazed on its battered face, and said: "old boy, i know we're not to blame; our gold has us forsaken, some other path it's taken, but i still believe we'll strike it just the same. "we'll strike it, yes, we'll strike it just the same, although it's gone into some other's claim. my dear old boy don't mind it, we won't starve if we don't find it, and we'll drill and shoot and find it just the same. "for forty years i've hammered steel and tried to make a strike, i've burned twice the powder custer ever saw. i've made just coin enough to keep poorer than a snake. my jack's ate all my books on mining law. i've worn gunny-sacks for overalls, and 'california socks,' i've burned candles that would reach from here to maine, i've lived on powder, smoke, and bacon, that's no lie, boy, i'm not fakin', but i still believe we'll strike it just the same. "last night as i lay sleeping in the midst of all my dream my assay ran six ounces clear in gold, and the silver it ran clean sixteen ounces to the seam, and the poor old miner's joy could scarce be told. i lay there, boy, i could not sleep, i had a feverish brow, got up, went back, and put in six holes more. and then, boy, i was chokin' just to see the ground i'd broken; but alas! alas! the miner's dream was o'er. "we'll strike it, yes, we'll strike it just the same, although it's gone into some other's claim. my dear old boy, don't mind it, we won't starve if we don't find it, and i still believe i'll strike it just the same." [footnote : printed as a fugitive ballad in _grandon of sierra_, by charles e. winter.] jesse james jesse james was a lad that killed a-many a man; he robbed the danville train. but that dirty little coward that shot mr. howard has laid poor jesse in his grave. poor jesse had a wife to mourn for his life, three children, they were brave. but that dirty little coward that shot mr. howard has laid poor jesse in his grave. it was robert ford, that dirty little coward, i wonder how he does feel, for he ate of jesse's bread and he slept in jesse's bed, then laid poor jesse in his grave. jesse was a man, a friend to the poor, he never would see a man suffer pain; and with his brother frank he robbed the chicago bank, and stopped the glendale train. it was his brother frank that robbed the gallatin bank, and carried the money from the town; it was in this very place that they had a little race, for they shot captain sheets to the ground. they went to the crossing not very far from there, and there they did the same; with the agent on his knees, he delivered up the keys to the outlaws, frank and jesse james. it was on wednesday night, the moon was shining bright, they robbed the glendale train; the people they did say, for many miles away, it was robbed by frank and jesse james. it was on saturday night, jesse was at home talking with his family brave, robert ford came along like a thief in the night and laid poor jesse in his grave. the people held their breath when they heard of jesse's death, and wondered how he ever came to die. it was one of the gang called little robert ford, he shot poor jesse on the sly. jesse went to his rest with his hand on his breast; the devil will be upon his knee. he was born one day in the county of clay and came from a solitary race. this song was made by billy gashade, as soon as the news did arrive; he said there was no man with the law in his hand who could take jesse james when alive. jesse james (mus. not.) jes-se james was a lad that killed a-ma-ny a man; he robbed the dan-ville train; but that dirt-y lit-tle cow-ard that shot mis-ter how-ard has laid poor jes-se in the grave. refrain. poor jes-se had a wife to mourn for his life. three chil-dren, they were brave; but that dir-ty lit-tle cow-ard that shot mis-ter how-ard has laid poor jes-se in the grave. poor lonesome cowboy i ain't got no father, i ain't got no father, i ain't got no father, to buy the clothes i wear. i'm a poor, lonesome cowboy, i'm a poor, lonesome cowboy, i'm a poor, lonesome cowboy and a long ways from home. i ain't got no mother, i ain't got no mother, i ain't got no mother to mend the clothes i wear. i ain't got no sister, i ain't got no sister, i ain't got no sister to go and play with me. i ain't got no brother, i ain't got no brother, i ain't got no brother to drive the steers with me. i ain't got no sweetheart, i ain't got no sweetheart, i ain't got no sweetheart to sit and talk with me. i'm a poor, lonesome cowboy, i'm a poor, lonesome cowboy, i'm a poor, lonesome cowboy and a long ways from home. buena vista battlefield on buena vista battlefield a dying soldier lay, his thoughts were on his mountain home some thousand miles away. he called his comrade to his side, for much he had to say, in briefest words to those who were some thousand miles away. "my father, comrade, you will tell about this bloody fray; my country's flag, you'll say to him, was safe with me to-day. i make a pillow of it now on which to lay my head, a winding sheet you'll make of it when i am with the dead. "i know 'twill grieve his inmost soul to think i never more will sit with him beneath the oak that shades the cottage door; but tell that time-worn patriot, that, mindful of his fame, upon this bloody battlefield i sullied not his name. "my mother's form is with me now, her will is in my ear, and drop by drop as flows my blood so flows from her the tear. and oh, when you shall tell to her the tidings of this day, speak softly, comrade, softly speak what you may have to say. "speak not to her in blighting words the blighting news you bear, the cords of life might snap too soon, so, comrade, have a care. i am her only, cherished child, but tell her that i died rejoicing that she taught me young to take my country's side. "but, comrade, there's one more, she's gentle as a fawn; she lives upon the sloping hill that overlooks the lawn, the lawn where i shall never more go forth with her in merry mood to gather wild-wood flowers. "tell her when death was on my brow and life receding fast, her looks, her form was with me then, were with me to the last. on buena vista's bloody field tell her i dying lay, and that i knew she thought of me some thousand miles away." westward ho i love not colorado where the faro table grows, and down the desperado the rippling bourbon flows; nor seek i fair montana of bowie-lunging fame; the pistol ring of fair wyoming i leave to nobler game. sweet poker-haunted kansas in vain allures the eye; the nevada rough has charms enough yet its blandishments i fly. shall arizona woo me where the meek apache bides? or new mexico where natives grow with arrow-proof insides? nay, 'tis where the grizzlies wander and the lonely diggers roam, and the grim chinese from the squatter flees that i'll make my humble home. i'll chase the wild tarantula and the fierce cayote i'll dare, and the locust grim, i'll battle him in his native wildwood lair. or i'll seek the gulch deserted and dream of the wild red man, and i'll build a cot on a corner lot and get rich as soon as i can. a home on the range oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam, where the deer and the antelope play, where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the skies are not cloudy all day. home, home on the range, where the deer and the antelope play; where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the skies are not cloudy all day. where the air is so pure, the zephyrs so free, the breezes so balmy and light, that i would not exchange my home on the range for all of the cities so bright. the red man was pressed from this part of the west, he's likely no more to return to the banks of red river where seldom if ever their flickering camp-fires burn. how often at night when the heavens are bright with the light from the glittering stars, have i stood here amazed and asked as i gazed if their glory exceeds that of ours. oh, i love these wild flowers in this dear land of ours, the curlew i love to hear scream, and i love the white rocks and the antelope flocks that graze on the mountain-tops green. oh, give me a land where the bright diamond sand flows leisurely down the stream; where the graceful white swan goes gliding along like a maid in a heavenly dream. then i would not exchange my home on the range, where the deer and the antelope play; where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the skies are not cloudy all day. home, home on the range, where the deer and the antelope play; where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the skies are not cloudy all day. home on the range (mus. not.) oh, give me a home where the buf-fa-lo roam, where the deer and the an-te-lope play;... where sel-dom is heard a dis-cour-ag-ing word and the skies are not cloud-y all day. home, home on the range, where the deer and the antelope play; where sel-dom is heard a dis-cour-ag-ing word and the skies are not cloud-y all day. texas rangers come, all you texas rangers, wherever you may be, i'll tell you of some troubles that happened unto me. my name is nothing extra, so it i will not tell,-- and here's to all you rangers, i am sure i wish you well. it was at the age of sixteen that i joined the jolly band, we marched from san antonio down to the rio grande. our captain he informed us, perhaps he thought it right, "before we reach the station, boys, you'll surely have to fight." and when the bugle sounded our captain gave command, "to arms, to arms," he shouted, "and by your horses stand." i saw the smoke ascending, it seemed to reach the sky; the first thought that struck me, my time had come to die. i saw the indians coming, i heard them give the yell; my feelings at that moment, no tongue can ever tell. i saw the glittering lances, their arrows round me flew, and all my strength it left me and all my courage too. we fought full nine hours before the strife was o'er, the like of dead and wounded i never saw before. and when the sun was rising and the indians they had fled, we loaded up our rifles and counted up our dead. and all of us were wounded, our noble captain slain, and the sun was shining sadly across the bloody plain. sixteen as brave rangers as ever roamed the west were buried by their comrades with arrows in their breast. 'twas then i thought of mother, who to me in tears did say, "to you they are all strangers, with me you had better stay." i thought that she was childish, the best she did not know; my mind was fixed on ranging and i was bound to go. perhaps you have a mother, likewise a sister too, and maybe you have a sweetheart to weep and mourn for you; if that be your situation, although you'd like to roam, i'd advise you by experience, you had better stay at home. i have seen the fruits of rambling, i know its hardships well; i have crossed the rocky mountains, rode down the streets of hell; i have been in the great southwest where the wild apaches roam, and i tell you from experience you had better stay at home. and now my song is ended; i guess i have sung enough; the life of a ranger i am sure is very tough. and here's to all you ladies, i am sure i wish you well, i am bound to go a-ranging, so ladies, fare you well. the mormon bishop's lament i am a mormon bishop and i will tell you what i know. i joined the confraternity some forty years ago. i then had youth upon my brow and eloquence my tongue, but i had the sad misfortune then to meet with brigham young. he said, "young man, come join our band and bid hard work farewell, you are too smart to waste your time in toil by hill and dell; there is a ripening harvest and our hooks shall find the fool and in the distant nations we shall train them in our school." i listened to his preaching and i learned all the role, and the truth of mormon doctrines burned deep within my soul. i married sixteen women and i spread my new belief, i was sent to preach the gospel to the pauper and the thief. 'twas in the glorious days when brigham was our only lord and king, and his wild cry of defiance from the wasatch tops did ring, 'twas when that bold bill hickman and that porter rockwell led, and in the blood atonements the pits received the dead. they took in dr. robertson and left him in his gore, and the aiken brothers sleep in peace on nephi's distant shore. we marched to mountain meadows and on that glorious field with rifle and with hatchet we made man and woman yield. 'twas there we were victorious with our legions fierce and brave. we left the butchered victims on the ground without a grave. we slew the load of emigrants on sublet's lonely road and plundered many a trader of his then most precious load. alas for all the powers that were in the by-gone time. what we did as deeds of glory are condemned as bloody crime. no more the blood atonements keep the doubting one in fear, while the faithful were rewarded with a wedding once a year. as the nation's chieftain president says our days of rule are o'er and his marshals with their warrants are on watch at every door, old john he now goes skulking on the by-roads of our land, or unknown he keeps in hiding with the faithful of our band. old brigham now is stretched beneath the cold and silent clay, and the chieftains now are fallen that were mighty in their day; of the six and twenty women that i wedded long ago there are two now left to cheer me in these awful hours of woe. the rest are scattered where the gentile's flag's unfurled and two score of my daughters are now numbered with the world. oh, my poor old bones are aching and my head is turning gray; oh, the scenes were black and awful that i've witnessed in my day. let my spirit seek the mansion where old brigham's gone to dwell, for there's no place for mormons but the lowest pits of hell. dan taylor dan taylor is a rollicking cuss, a frisky son of a gun, he loves to court the maidens and he savies how it's done. he used to be a cowboy and they say he wasn't slow, he could ride the bucking bronco and swing the long lasso. he could catch a maverick by the head or heel him on the fly, he could pick up his front ones whenever he chose to try. he used to ride most anything; now he seldom will. he says they cut some caper in the air of which he's got his fill. he is done and quit the business, settled down to quiet life, and he's hunting for some maiden who will be his little wife,-- one who will wash and patch his britches and feed the setting hen, milk old blue and brindy, and tend to baby ben. then he'll build a cozy cottage and furnish it complete, he'll decorate the walls inside with pictures new and sweet. he will leave off riding broncos and be a different man; he will do his best to please his wife in every way he can. then together in double harness they will trot along down the line, until death shall call them over to a bright and sunny clime. may your joys be then completed and your sorrows have amend, is the fondest wish of the writer,-- your true and faithful friend. when work is done this fall a group of jolly cowboys, discussing plans at ease, says one, "i'll tell you something, boys, if you will listen, please. i am an old cow-puncher and here i'm dressed in rags, and i used to be a tough one and take on great big jags. "but i've got a home, boys, a good one, you all know, although i have not seen it since long, long ago. i'm going back to dixie once more to see them all; yes, i'm going to see my mother when the work's all done this fall. "after the round-ups are over and after the shipping is done, i am going right straight home, boys, ere all my money is gone. i have changed my ways, boys, no more will i fall; and i am going home, boys, when work is done this fall. "when i left home, boys, my mother for me cried, begged me not to go, boys, for me she would have died; my mother's heart is breaking, breaking for me, that's all, and with god's help i'll see her when the work's all done this fall." that very night this cowboy went out to stand his guard; the night was dark and cloudy and storming very hard; the cattle they got frightened and rushed in wild stampede, the cowboy tried to head them, riding at full speed. while riding in the darkness so loudly did he shout, trying his best to head them and turn the herd about, his saddle horse did stumble and on him did fall, the poor boy won't see his mother when the work's all done this fall. his body was so mangled the boys all thought him dead, they picked him up so gently and laid him on a bed; he opened wide his blue eyes and looking all around he motioned to his comrades to sit near him on the ground. "boys, send mother my wages, the wages i have earned, for i'm afraid, boys, my last steer i have turned. i'm going to a new range, i hear my master's call, and i'll not see my mother when the work's all done this fall. "fred, you take my saddle; george, you take my bed; bill, you take my pistol after i am dead, and think of me kindly when you look upon them all, for i'll not see my mother when work is done this fall." poor charlie was buried at sunrise, no tombstone at his head, nothing but a little board and this is what it said, "charlie died at daybreak, he died from a fall, and he'll not see his mother when the work's all done this fall." sioux indians i'll sing you a song, though it may be a sad one, of trials and troubles and where they first begun; i left my dear kindred, my friends, and my home, across the wild deserts and mountains to roam. i crossed the missouri and joined a large train which bore us over mountain and valley and plain; and often of evenings out hunting we'd go to shoot the fleet antelope and wild buffalo. we heard of sioux indians all out on the plains a-killing poor drivers and burning their trains,-- a-killing poor drivers with arrows and bow, when captured by indians no mercy they show. we traveled three weeks till we came to the platte and pitched out our tents at the end of the flat, we spread down our blankets on the green grassy ground, while our horses and mules were grazing around. while taking refreshment we heard a low yell, the whoop of sioux indians coming up from the dell; we sprang to our rifles with a flash in each eye, "boys," says our brave leader, "we'll fight till we die." they made a bold dash and came near to our train and the arrows fell around us like hail and like rain, but with our long rifles we fed them cold lead till many a brave warrior around us lay dead. we shot their bold chief at the head of his band. he died like a warrior with a gun in his hand. when they saw their bold chief lying dead in his gore, they whooped and they yelled and we saw them no more. with our small band,--there were just twenty-four,-- and the sioux indians there were five hundred or more,-- we fought them with courage; we spoke not a word, till the end of the battle was all that was heard. we hitched up our horses and we started our train; three more bloody battles this trip on the plain; and in our last battle three of our brave boys fell, and we left them to rest in a green, shady dell. the old chisholm trail come along, boys, and listen to my tale, i'll tell you of my troubles on the old chisholm trail. coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya, coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya. i started up the trail october twenty-third, i started up the trail with the -u herd. oh, a ten dollar hoss and a forty dollar saddle,-- and i'm goin' to punchin' texas cattle. i woke up one morning on the old chisholm trail, rope in my hand and a cow by the tail. i'm up in the mornin' afore daylight and afore i sleep the moon shines bright. old ben bolt was a blamed good boss, but he'd go to see the girls on a sore-backed hoss. old ben bolt was a fine old man and you'd know there was whiskey wherever he'd land. my hoss throwed me off at the creek called mud, my hoss throwed me off round the -u herd. last time i saw him he was going cross the level a-kicking up his heels and a-running like the devil. it's cloudy in the west, a-looking like rain, and my damned old slicker's in the wagon again. crippled my hoss, i don't know how, ropin' at the horns of a -u cow. we hit caldwell and we hit her on the fly, we bedded down the cattle on the hill close by. no chaps, no slicker, and it's pouring down rain, and i swear, by god, i'll never night-herd again. feet in the stirrups and seat in the saddle, i hung and rattled with them long-horn cattle. last night i was on guard and the leader broke the ranks, i hit my horse down the shoulders and i spurred him in the flanks. the wind commenced to blow, and the rain began to fall, hit looked, by grab, like we was goin' to loss 'em all. i jumped in the saddle and grabbed holt the horn, best blamed cow-puncher ever was born. i popped my foot in the stirrup and gave a little yell, the tail cattle broke and the leaders went to hell. i don't give a damn if they never do stop; i'll ride as long as an eight-day clock. foot in the stirrup and hand on the horn, best damned cowboy ever was born. i herded and i hollered and i done very well, till the boss said, "boys, just let 'em go to hell." stray in the herd and the boss said kill it, so i shot him in the rump with the handle of the skillet. we rounded 'em up and put 'em on the cars, and that was the last of the old two bars. oh it's bacon and beans most every day,-- i'd as soon be a-eatin' prairie hay. i'm on my best horse and i'm goin' at a run, i'm the quickest shootin' cowboy that ever pulled a gun. i went to the wagon to get my roll, to come back to texas, dad-burn my soul. i went to the boss to draw my roll, he had it figgered out i was nine dollars in the hole. i'll sell my outfit just as soon as i can, i won't punch cattle for no damned man. goin' back to town to draw my money, goin' back home to see my honey. with my knees in the saddle and my seat in the sky, i'll quit punching cows in the sweet by and by. coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya, coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya. the old chisholm trail (mus. not.) come a-long, boys, and list-en to my tale, i'll tell you of my trou-bles on the old chisholm trail. refrain co-ma ti yi you-pe, you-pe ya, you-pe ya, co-ma ti yi you-pe, you-pe ya. jack donahoo come, all you bold, undaunted men, you outlaws of the day, it's time to beware of the ball and chain and also slavery. attention pay to what i say, and verily if you do, i will relate you the actual fate of bold jack donahoo. he had scarcely landed, as i tell you, upon australia's shore, than he became a real highwayman, as he had been before. there was underwood and mackerman, and wade and westley too, these were the four associates of bold jack donahoo. jack donahoo, who was so brave, rode out that afternoon, knowing not that the pain of death would overtake him soon. so quickly then the horse police from sidney came to view; "begone from here, you cowardly dogs," says bold jack donahoo. the captain and the sergeant stopped then to decide. "do you intend to fight us or unto us resign?" "to surrender to such cowardly dogs is more than i will do, this day i'll fight if i lose my life," says bold jack donahoo. the captain and the sergeant the men they did divide; they fired from behind him and also from each side; it's six police he did shoot down before the fatal ball did pierce the heart of donahoo and cause bold jack to fall. and when he fell, he closed his eyes, he bid the world adieu; come, all you boys, and sing the song of bold jack donahoo. utah carroll and as, my friend, you ask me what makes me sad and still, and why my brow is darkened like the clouds upon the hill; run in your pony closer and i'll tell to you the tale of utah carroll, my partner, and his last ride on the trail. 'mid the cactus and the thistles of mexico's fair lands, where the cattle roam in thousands, a-many a herd and brand, there is a grave with neither headstone, neither date nor name,-- there lies my partner sleeping in the land from which i came. we rode the range together and had rode it side by side; i loved him as a brother, i wept when utah died; we were rounding up one morning, our work was almost done, when on the side the cattle started on a mad and fearless run. the boss man's little daughter was holding on that side. she rushed; the cattle saw the blanket, they charged with maddened fear. and little varro, seeing the danger, turned her pony a pace and leaning in the saddle, tied the blanket in its place. in leaning, she lost her balance and fell in front of that wild tide. utah's voice controlled the round-up. "lay still, little varro," he cried. his only hope was to raise her, to catch her at full speed, and oft-times he had been known to catch the trail rope off his steed. his pony reached the maiden with a firm and steady bound; utah swung out from the saddle to catch her from the ground. he swung out from the saddle, i thought her safe from harm, as he swung in his saddle to raise her in his arm. but the cinches of his saddle had not been felt before, and his back cinch snapt asunder and he fell by the side of varro. he picked up the blanket and swung it over his head and started across the prairie; "lay still, little varro," he said. well, he got the stampede turned and saved little varro, his friend. then he turned to face the cattle and meet his fatal end. his six-shooter from his pocket, from the scabbard he quickly drew,-- he was bound to die defended as all young cowboys do. his six-shooter flashed like lightning, the report rang loud and clear; as the cattle rushed in and killed him he dropped the leading steer. and when we broke the circle where utah's body lay, with many a wound and bruise his young life ebbed away. "and in some future morning," i heard the preacher say, "i hope we'll all meet utah at the round-up far away." then we wrapped him in a blanket sent by his little friend, and it was that very red blanket that brought him to his end. the bull-whacker i'm a lonely bull-whacker on the red cloud line, i can lick any son of a gun that will yoke an ox of mine. and if i can catch him, you bet i will or try, i'd lick him with an ox-bow,-- root hog or die. it's out on the road with a very heavy load, with a very awkward team and a very muddy road, you may whip and you may holler, but if you cuss it's on the sly; then whack the cattle on, boys,-- root hog or die. it's out on the road these sights are to be seen, the antelope and buffalo, the prairie all so green,-- the antelope and buffalo, the rabbit jumps so high; it's whack the cattle on, boys,-- root hog or die. it's every day at twelve there's something for to do; and if there's nothing else, there's a pony for to shoe; i'll throw him down, and still i'll make him lie; little pig, big pig, root hog or die. now perhaps you'd like to know what we have to eat, a little piece of bread and a little dirty meat, a little black coffee, and whiskey on the sly; it's whack the cattle on, boys,-- root hog or die. there's hard old times on bitter creek that never can be beat, it was root hog or die under every wagon sheet; we cleaned up all the indians, drank all the alkali, and it's whack the cattle on, boys,-- root hog or die. there was good old times in salt lake that never can pass by, it was there i first spied my china girl called wi. she could smile, she could chuckle, she could roll her hog eye; then it's whack the cattle on, boys,-- root hog or die. oh, i'm going home bull-whacking for to spurn, i ain't got a nickel, and i don't give a dern. 'tis when i meet a pretty girl, you bet i will or try, i'll make her my little wife,-- root hog or die. the "metis" song of the buffalo hunters by robideau hurrah for the buffalo hunters! hurrah for the cart brigade! that creak along on its winding way, while we dance and sing and play. hurrah, hurrah for the cart brigade! hurrah for the pembinah hunters! hurrah for its cart brigade! for with horse and gun we roll along o'er mountain and hill and plain. hurrah, hurrah for the cart brigade! we whipped the sioux and scalped them too, while on the western plain, and rode away on our homeward way with none to say us nay,-- hurrah, hurrah for the cart brigade! hurrah! mon ami, mon ami, hurrah for our black-haired girls! that braved the sioux and fought them too, while on montana's plains. we'll hold them true and love them too, while on the trail of the pembinah, hurrah! hurrah, hurrah for the cart brigade of pembinah! we have the skins and the meat so sweet. and we'll sit by the fire in the lodge so neat, while the wind blows cold and the snow is deep. then roll in our robes and laugh as we sleep. hurrah, hurrah for the cart brigade! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! the cowboy's lament as i walked out in the streets of laredo, as i walked out in laredo one day, i spied a poor cowboy wrapped up in white linen, wrapped up in white linen as cold as the clay. "oh, beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly, play the dead march as you carry me along; take me to the green valley, there lay the sod o'er me, for i'm a young cowboy and i know i've done wrong. "i see by your outfit that you are a cowboy," these words he did say as i boldly stepped by. "come sit down beside me and hear my sad story; i was shot in the breast and i know i must die. "let sixteen gamblers come handle my coffin, let sixteen cowboys come sing me a song, take me to the graveyard and lay the sod o'er me, for i'm a poor cowboy and i know i've done wrong. "my friends and relations, they live in the nation, they know not where their boy has gone. he first came to texas and hired to a ranchman, oh, i'm a young cowboy and i know i've done wrong. "go write a letter to my gray-haired mother, and carry the same to my sister so dear; but not a word of this shall you mention when a crowd gathers round you my story to hear. "then beat your drum lowly and play your fife slowly, beat the dead march as you carry me along; we all love our cowboys so young and so handsome, we all love our cowboys although they've done wrong. "there is another more dear than a sister, she'll bitterly weep when she hears i am gone. there is another who will win her affections, for i'm a young cowboy and they say i've done wrong. "go gather around you a crowd of young cowboys, and tell them the story of this my sad fate; tell one and the other before they go further to stop their wild roving before 'tis too late. "oh, muffle your drums, then play your fifes merrily; play the dead march as you go along. and fire your guns right over my coffin; there goes an unfortunate boy to his home. "it was once in the saddle i used to go dashing, it was once in the saddle i used to go gay; first to the dram-house, then to the card-house, got shot in the breast, i am dying to-day. "get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin; get six pretty maidens to bear up my pall. put bunches of roses all over my coffin, put roses to deaden the clods as they fall. "then swing your rope slowly and rattle your spurs lowly, and give a wild whoop as you carry me along; and in the grave throw me and roll the sod o'er me, for i'm a young cowboy and i know i've done wrong. "go bring me a cup, a cup of cold water, to cool my parched lips," the cowboy said; before i turned, the spirit had left him and gone to its giver,--the cowboy was dead. we beat the drum slowly and played the fife lowly, and bitterly wept as we bore him along; for we all loved our comrade, so brave, young, and handsome, we all loved our comrade although he'd done wrong. love in disguise as william and mary stood by the seashore their last farewell to take, returning no more, little mary she said, "why surely my heart will break." "oh, don't be dismayed, little mary," he said, as he pressed the dear girl to his side, "in my absence don't mourn, for when i return i'll make little mary my bride." three years passed on without any news. one day as she stood by the door a beggar passed by with a patch on his eye, "i'm home, oh, do pity, my love; have compassion on me, your friend i will be. your fortune i'll tell besides. the lad you mourn will never return to make little mary his bride." she startled and trembled and then she did say, "all the fortune i have i freely give if what i ask you will tell unto me,-- say, does young william yet live?" "he lives and is true and poverty poor, and shipwreck has suffered beside; he'll return no more, because he is poor, to make little mary his bride." "no tongue can tell the joy i do feel although his misfortune i mourn, and he's welcome to me though poverty poor, his jacket all tattered and torn. i love him so dear, so true and sincere, i'll have no other beside; those with riches enrobed and covered with gold can't make little mary their bride." the beggar then tore the patch from his eye, his crutches he laid by his side, coat, jacket and bundle; cheeks red as a rose, 'twas william that stood by her side. "then excuse me, dear maid," to her he said, "it was only your love i tried." so he hastened away at the close of the day to make little mary his bride. mustang gray there once was a noble ranger, they called him mustang gray; he left his home when but a youth, went ranging far away. but he'll go no more a-ranging, the savage to affright; he has heard his last war-whoop, and fought his last fight. he ne'er would sleep within a tent, no comforts would he know; but like a brave old tex-i-an, a-ranging he would go. when texas was invaded by a mighty tyrant foe, he mounted his noble war-horse and a-ranging he did go. once he was taken prisoner, bound in chains upon the way, he wore the yoke of bondage through the streets of monterey. a senorita loved him, and followed by his side; she opened the gates and gave to him her father's steed to ride. god bless the senorita, the belle of monterey, she opened wide the prison door and let him ride away. and when this veteran's life was spent, it was his last command to bury him on texas soil on the banks of the rio grande; and there the lonely traveler, when passing by his grave, will shed a farewell tear o'er the bravest of the brave. and he'll go no more a-ranging, the savage to affright; he has heard his last war-whoop, and fought his last fight. young companions come all you young companions and listen unto me, i'll tell you a story of some bad company. i was born in pennsylvania among the beautiful hills and the memory of my childhood is warm within me still. i did not like my fireside, i did not like my home; i had in view far rambling, so far away did roam. i had a feeble mother, she oft would plead with me; and the last word she gave me was to pray to god in need. i had two loving sisters, as fair as fair could be, and oft beside me kneeling they oft would plead with me. i bid adieu to loved ones, to my home i bid farewell, and i landed in chicago in the very depth of hell. it was there i took to drinking, i sinned both night and day, and there within my bosom a feeble voice would say: "then fare you well, my loved one, may god protect my boy, and blessings ever with him throughout his manhood joy." i courted a fair young maiden, her name i will not tell, for i should ever disgrace her since i am doomed for hell. it was on one beautiful evening, the stars were shining bright, and with a fatal dagger i bid her spirit flight. so justice overtook me, you all can plainly see, my soul is doomed forever throughout eternity. it's now i'm on the scaffold, my moments are not long; you may forget the singer but don't forget the song. lackey bill come all you good old boys and listen to my rhymes, we are west of eastern texas and mostly men of crimes; each with a hidden secret well smothered in his breast, which brought us out to mexico, way out here in the west. my parents raised me tenderly, they had no child but me, till i began to ramble and with them could never agree. my mind being bent on rambling did grieve their poor hearts sore, to leave my aged parents them to see no more. i was borned and raised in texas, though never come to fame, a cowboy by profession, c.w. king, by name. oh, when the war was ended i did not like to work, my brothers were not happy, for i had learned to shirk. in fact i was not able, my health was very bad, i had no constitution, i was nothing but a lad. i had no education, i would not go to school, and living off my parents i thought it rather cool. so i set a resolution to travel to the west, my parents they objected, but still i thought it best. it was out on the seven rivers all out on the pecos stream, it was there i saw a country i thought just suited me. i thought i would be no stranger and lead a civil life, in order to be happy would choose myself a wife. on one sabbath evening in the merry month of may to a little country singing i happened there to stray. it was there i met a damsel i never shall forget, the impulse of that moment remains within me yet. we soon became acquainted, i thought she would fill the bill, she seemed to be good-natured, which helps to climb the hill. she was a handsome figure though not so very tall; her hair was red as blazes, i hate it worst of all. i saw her home one evening in the presence of her pap, i bid them both good evening with a note left in her lap. and when i got an answer i read it with a rush, i found she had consented, my feelings was a hush. but now i have changed my mind, boys, i am sure i wish her well. here's to that precious jewel, i'm sure i wish her well. this girl was miss mollie walker who fell in love with me, she was a lovely western girl, as lovely as could be, she was so tall, so handsome, so charming and so fair, there is not a girl in this whole world with her i could compare. she said my pockets would be lined with gold, hard work then i'd leave o'er if i'd consent to live with her and say i'd roam no more. my mind began to ramble and it grieved my poor heart sore, to leave my darling girl, her to see no more. i asked if it made any difference if i crossed o'er the plains; she said it made no difference if i returned again. so we kissed, shook hands, and parted, i left that girl behind. she said she'd prove true to me till death proved her unkind. i rode in the town of vagus, all in the public square; the mail coach had arrived, the post boy met me there. he handed me a letter that gave me to understand that the girl i loved in texas had married another man. so i read a little farther and found those words were true. i turned myself all around, not knowing what to do. i'll sell my horse, saddle, and bridle, cow-driving i'll resign, i'll search this world from town to town for the girl i left behind. here the gold i find in plenty, the girls to me are kind, but my pillow is haunted with the girl i left behind. it's trouble and disappointment is all that i can see, for the dearest girl in all the world has gone square back on me. whoopee ti yi yo, git along little dogies as i walked out one morning for pleasure, i spied a cow-puncher all riding alone; his hat was throwed back and his spurs was a jingling, as he approached me a-singin' this song, whoopee ti yi yo, git along little dogies, it's your misfortune, and none of my own. whoopee ti yi yo, git along little dogies, for you know wyoming will be your new home. early in the spring we round up the dogies, mark and brand and bob off their tails; round up our horses, load up the chuck-wagon, then throw the dogies upon the trail. it's whooping and yelling and driving the dogies; oh how i wish you would go on; it's whooping and punching and go on little dogies, for you know wyoming will be your new home. some boys goes up the trail for pleasure, but that's where you get it most awfully wrong; for you haven't any idea the trouble they give us while we go driving them all along. when the night comes on and we hold them on the bedground, these little dogies that roll on so slow; roll up the herd and cut out the strays, and roll the little dogies that never rolled before. your mother she was raised way down in texas, where the jimson weed and sand-burrs grow; now we'll fill you up on prickly pear and cholla till you are ready for the trail to idaho. oh, you'll be soup for uncle sam's injuns; "it's beef, heap beef," i hear them cry. git along, git along, git along little dogies you're going to be beef steers by and by. whoopee ti yi yo, git along little dogies (mus. not.) as i was a-walk-ing one morn-ing for pleasure, i spied a cow-punch-er all rid-ing a-lone; his hat was throw'd back and his spurs was a-jing-lin', as he ap-proach'd me a-sing-in' this song: refrain. whoopee ti yi yo, git a-long little dog-ies, its your mis-for-tune and none of my own. whoop-ee ti yi yo, git a-long lit-tie dog-ies, for you know wy-o-ming will be your new home. the u-s-u range o come cowboys and listen to my song, i'm in hopes i'll please you and not keep you long; i'll sing you of things you may think strange about west texas and the u-s-u range. you may go to stamford and there see a man who wears a white shirt and is asking for hands; you may ask him for work and he'll answer you short, he will hurry you up, for he wants you to start. he will put you in a wagon and be off in the rain, you will go up on tongue river on the u-s-u range. you will drive up to the ranch and there you will stop. it's a little sod house with dirt all on top. you will ask what it is and they will tell you out plain that it's the ranch house on the u-s-u range. you will go in the house and he will begin to explain; you will see some blankets rolled up on the floor; you may ask what it is and they will tell you out plain that it is the bedding on the u-s-u range. you are up in the morning at the daybreak to eat cold beef and u-s-u steak, and out to your work no matter if it's rain,-- and that is the life on the u-s-u range. you work hard all day and come in at night, and turn your horse loose, for they say it's all right, and set down to supper and begin to complain of the chuck that you eat on the u-s-u range. the grub that you get is beans and cold rice and u-s-u steak cooked up very nice; and if you don't like that you needn't complain, for that's what you get on the u-s-u range. now, kind friends, i must leave you, i no longer can remain, i hope i have pleased you and given you no pain. but when i am gone, don't think me strange, for i have been a cow-puncher on the u-s-u range. i'm a good old rebel oh, i'm a good old rebel, that's what i am; and for this land of freedom, i don't care a damn, i'm glad i fought agin her, i only wish we'd won, and i don't axe any pardon for anything i've done. i served with old bob lee, three years about, got wounded in four places and starved at point lookout; i caught the rheumatism a-campin' in the snow, but i killed a _chance_ of yankees and wish i'd killed some mo'. for i'm a good old rebel, etc. i hate the constitooshin, this great republic too; i hate the mouty eagle, an' the uniform so blue; i hate their glorious banner, an' all their flags an' fuss, those lyin', thievin' yankees, i hate 'em wuss an' wuss. for i'm a good old rebel, etc. i won't be re-constructed! i'm better now than them; and for a carpet-bagger, i don't give a damn; so i'm off for the frontier, soon as i can go, i'll prepare me a weapon and start for mexico. for i'm a good old rebel, etc. the cowboy all day long on the prairies i ride, not even a dog to trot by my side; my fire i kindle with chips gathered round, my coffee i boil without being ground. i wash in a pool and wipe on a sack; i carry my wardrobe all on my back; for want of an oven i cook bread in a pot, and sleep on the ground for want of a cot. my ceiling is the sky, my floor is the grass, my music is the lowing of the herds as they pass; my books are the brooks, my sermons the stones, my parson is a wolf on his pulpit of bones. and then if my cooking is not very complete you can't blame me for wanting to eat. but show me a man that sleeps more profound than the big puncher-boy who stretches himself on the ground. my books teach me ever consistence to prize, my sermons, that small things i should not despise; my parson remarks from his pulpit of bones that fortune favors those who look out for their own. and then between me and love lies a gulf very wide. some lucky fellow may call her his bride. my friends gently hint i am coming to grief, but men must make money and women have beef. but cupid is always a friend to the bold, and the best of his arrows are pointed with gold. society bans me so savage and dodge that the masons would ball me out of their lodge. if i had hair on my chin, i might pass for the goat that bore all the sins in the ages remote; but why it is i can never understand, for each of the patriarchs owned a big brand. abraham emigrated in search of a range, and when water was scarce he wanted a change; old isaac owned cattle in charge of esau, and jacob punched cows for his father-in-law. he started in business way down at bed rock, and made quite a streak at handling stock; then david went from night-herding to using a sling; and, winning the battle, he became a great king. then the shepherds, while herding the sheep on a hill, got a message from heaven of peace and goodwill. the cowboy (mus. not.) music by the "kid" all day on the prai-rie in the sad-dle i ride, not e-ven a dog, boys, to trot by my side. my fire i must kin-dle with chips gathered round, and boil my own cof-fee with-out be-ing ground. i wash in a pool and i wipe on a sack, i car-ry my ward-robe all on my back. bill peters, the stage driver bill peters was a hustler from independence town; he warn't a college scholar nor man of great renown, but bill had a way o' doing things and doin' 'em up brown. bill driv the stage from independence up to the smokey hill; and everybody knowed him thar as independence bill,-- thar warn't no feller on the route that driv with half the skill. bill driv four pair of horses, same as you'd drive a team, and you'd think you was a-travelin' on a railroad driv by steam; and he'd git thar on time, you bet, or bill 'u'd bust a seam. he carried mail and passengers, and he started on the dot, and them teams o' his'n, so they say, was never known to trot; but they went it in a gallop and kept their axles hot. when bill's stage 'u'd bust a tire, or something 'u'd break down, he'd hustle round and patch her up and start off with a bound; and the wheels o' that old shack o' his scarce ever touched the ground. and bill didn't low no foolin', and when inguns hove in sight and bullets rattled at the stage, he druv with all his might; he'd holler, "fellers, give 'em hell, i ain't got time to fight." then the way them wheels 'u'd rattle, and the way the dust 'u'd fly, you'd think a million cattle, had stampeded and gone by; but the mail 'u'd get thar just the same, if the horses had to die. he driv that stage for many a year along the smokey hill, and a pile o' wild comanches did bill peters have to kill,-- and i reckon if he'd had good luck he'd been a drivin' still. but he chanced one day to run agin a bullet made o' lead, which was harder than he bargained for and now poor bill is dead; and when they brung his body home a barrel of tears was shed. hard times come listen a while and i'll sing you a song concerning the times--it will not be long-- when everybody is striving to buy, and cheating each other, i cannot tell why,-- and it's hard, hard times. from father to mother, from sister to brother, from cousin to cousin, they're cheating each other. since cheating has grown to be so much the fashion, i believe to my soul it will run the whole nation,-- and it's hard, hard times. now there is the talker, by talking he eats, and so does the butcher by killing his meats. he'll toss the steelyards, and weigh it right down, and swear it's just right if it lacks forty pounds,-- and it's hard, hard times. and there is the merchant, as honest, we're told. whatever he sells you, my friend, you are sold; believe what i tell you, and don't be surprised to find yourself cheated half out of your eyes,-- and it's hard, hard times. and there is the lawyer you plainly will see, he will plead your case for a very large fee, he'll law you and tell you the wrong side is right, and make you believe that a black horse is white,-- and it's hard, hard times. and there is the doctor, i like to forgot, i believe to my soul he's the worst of the lot; he'll tell you he'll cure you for half you possess, and when you're buried he'll take all the rest,-- and it's hard, hard times. and there's the old bachelor, all hated with scorn, he's like an old garment all tattered and torn, the girls and the widows all toss him a sigh, and think it quite right, and so do i,-- and it's hard, hard times. and there's the young widow, coquettish and shy, with a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye, but when she gets married she'll cut quite a dash, she'll give him the reins and she'll handle the cash,-- and it's hard, hard times. and there's the young lady i like to have missed, and i believe to my soul she'd like to be kissed; she'll tell you she loves you with all pretence and ask you to call again some time hence,-- and it's hard, hard times. and there's the young man, the worst of the whole. oh, he will tell you with all of his soul, he'll tell you he loves you and for you will die, and when he's away he will swear it's a lie,-- and it's hard, hard times. cole younger am one of a band of highwaymen, cole younger is my name; my crimes and depredations have brought my friends to shame; the robbing of the northfield bank, the same i can't deny, for now i am a prisoner, in the stillwater jail i lie. 'tis of a bold, high robbery, a story to you i'll tell, of a california miner who unto us befell; we robbed him of his money and bid him go his way, for which i will be sorry until my dying day. and then we started homeward, when brother bob did say: "now, cole, we will buy fast horses and on them ride away. we will ride to avenge our father's death and try to win the prize; we will fight those anti-guerrillas until the day we die." and then we rode towards texas, that good old lone star state, but on nebraska's prairies the james boys we did meet; with knives, guns, and revolvers we all sat down to play, a-drinking of good whiskey to pass the time away. a union pacific railway train was the next we did surprise, and the crimes done by our bloody hands bring tears into my eyes. the engineerman and fireman killed, the conductor escaped alive, and now their bones lie mouldering beneath nebraska's skies. then we saddled horses, northwestward we did go, to the god-forsaken country called min-ne-so-te-o; i had my eye on the northfield bank when brother bob did say, "now, cole, if you undertake the job, you will surely curse the day." but i stationed out my pickets and up to the bank did go, and there upon the counter i struck my fatal blow. "just hand us over your money and make no further delay, we are the famous younger brothers, we spare no time to pray." mississippi girls come, all you mississippi girls, and listen to my noise, if you happen to go west, don't you marry those texian boys; for if you do, your fortune will be cold jonny-cake and beefsteak, that's all that you will see,-- cold jonny-cake and beefsteak, that's all that you will see. when they go courting, here's what they wear: an old leather coat, and it's all ripped and tore; and an old brown hat with the brim tore down, and a pair of dirty socks, they've worn the winter round. when one comes in, the first thing you hear is, "madam, your father has killed a deer"; and the next thing they say when they sit down is, "madam, the jonny-cake is too damned brown." they live in a hut with hewed log wall, but it ain't got any windows at all; with a clap-board roof and a puncheon floor, and that's the way all texas o'er. they will take you out on a live-oak hill and there they will leave you much against your will. they will leave you on the prairie, starve you on the plains, for that is the way with the texians,-- for that is the way with the texians. when they go to preaching let me tell you how they dress; just an old black shirt without any vest, just an old straw hat more brim than crown and an old sock leg that they wear the winter round,-- and an old sock leg that they wear the winter round. for your wedding supper, there'll be beef and cornbread; there it is to eat when the ceremony's said. and when you go to milk you'll milk into a gourd; and set it in the corner and cover it with a board; some gets little and some gets none, for that is the way with the texians,-- for that is the way with the texians. the old man under the hill there was an old man who lived under the hill, chir-u-ra-wee, lived under the hill, and if he ain't dead he's living there still, chir-u-ra-wee, living there still. one day the old man went out to plow, chir-u-ra-wee, went out to plow; 'tis good-bye the old fellow, and how are you now, sing chir-u-ra-wee, and how are you now. and then another came to his house, chir-u-ra-wee, came to his house; "there's one of your family i've got to have now, sing chir-u-ra-wee, got to have now. "it's neither you nor your oldest son, chir-u-ra-wee, nor your oldest son." "then take my old woman and take her for fun, sing chir-u-ra-wee, take her for fun." he takened her all upon his back, chir-u-ra-wee, upon his back, and like an old rascal went rickity rack, sing chir-u-ra-wee, went rickity rack. but when he got half way up the road, chir-u-ra-wee, up the road, says he, "you old lady, you're sure a load," sing chir-u-ra-wee, you're sure a load. he set her down on a stump to rest, chir-u-ra-wee, stump to rest; she up with a stick and hit him her best. sing chir-u-ra-wee, hit him her best. he taken her on to hell's old gate, chir-u-ra-wee, hell's old gate, but when he got there he got there too late, sing chir-u-ra-wee, got there too late. and so he had to keep his wife, chir-u-ra-wee, had to keep his wife, and keep her he did for the rest of his life. sing chir-u-ra-wee, for the rest of his life. jerry, go ile that car come all ye railroad section men an' listen to my song, it is of larry o'sullivan who now is dead and gone. for twinty years a section boss, he niver hired a tar-- oh, it's "j'int ahead and cinter back, an' jerry, go ile that car!" for twinty years a section boss, he niver hired a tar, but it's "j'int ahead an cinter back, an' jerry, go ile that car-r-r!" for twinty years a section boss, he worked upon the track, and be it to his cred-i-it he niver had a wrack. for he kept every j'int right up to the p'int wid the tap of the tampin-bar-r-r; and while the byes was a-swimmin' up the ties, it's "jerry, wud yez ile that car-r-r!" god rest ye, larry o'sullivan, to me ye were kind and good; ye always made the section men go out and chop me wood; an' fetch me wather from the well an' chop me kindlin' fine; and any man that wouldn't lind a hand, 'twas larry give him his time. and ivery sunday morni-i-ing unto the gang he'd say: "me byes, prepare--yez be aware the ould lady goes to church the day. now, i want ivery man to pump the best he can, for the distance it is far-r-r; an' we have to get in ahead of number tin-- so, jerry, go an' ile that car-r-r!" 'twas in november in the winter time and the ground all covered wid snow, "come put the hand-car-r-r on the track an' over the section go!" wid his big soger coat buttoned up to his t'roat, all weathers he would dare-- an' it's "paddy mack, will yez walk the track, an' jerry, go an' ile that car-r-r!" "give my respects to the roadmas-ther," poor larry he did cry, "an lave me up that i may see the ould hand-car before i die. come, j'int ahead an' cinter back, an' jerry, go an' ile that car-r-r!" then lay the spike maul upon his chist, the gauge, and the ould claw-bar-r-r, and while the byes do be fillin' up his grave, "oh, jerry, go an' ile that car-r-r!" john garner's trail herd come all you old timers and listen to my song; i'll make it short as possible and i'll not keep you long; i'll relate to you about the time you all remember well when we, with old joe garner, drove a beef herd up the trail. when we left the ranch it was early in the spring, we had as good a corporal as ever rope did swing, good hands and good horses, good outfit through and through,-- we went well equipped, we were a jolly crew. we had no little herd--two thousand head or more-- and some as wild a brush beeves as you ever saw before. we swung to them all the way and sometimes by the tail,-- oh, you know we had a circus as we all went up the trail. all things went on well till we reached the open ground, and then them cattle turned in and they gave us merry hell. they stampeded every night that came and did it without fail,-- oh, you know we had a circus as we all went up the trail. we would round them up at morning and the boss would make a count, and say, "look here, old punchers, we are out quite an amount; you must make all losses good and do it without fail or you will never get another job of driving up the trail." when we reached red river we gave the inspector the dodge. he swore by god almighty, in jail old john should lodge. we told him if he'd taken our boss and had him locked in jail, we would shore get his scalp as we all came down the trail. when we reached the reservation, how squirmish we did feel, although we had tried old garner and knew him true as steel. and if we would follow him and do as he said do, that old bald-headed cow-thief would surely take us through. when we reached dodge city we drew our four months' pay. times was better then, boys, that was a better day. the way we drank and gambled and threw the girls around,-- "say, a crowd of texas cowboys has come to take our town." the cowboy sees many hardships although he takes them well; the fun we had upon that trip, no human tongue can tell. the cowboy's life is a dreary life, though his mind it is no load, and he always spends his money like he found it in the road. if ever you meet old garner, you must meet him on the square, for he is the biggest cow-thief that ever tramped out there. but if you want to hear him roar and spin a lively tale, just ask him about the time we all went up the trail. the old scout's lament come all of you, my brother scouts, and join me in my song; come, let us sing together though the shadows fall so long. of all the old frontiersmen that used to scour the plain, there are but very few of them that with us yet remain. day after day they're dropping off, they're going one by one; our clan is fast decreasing, our race is almost run. there were many of our number that never wore the blue, but, faithfully, they did their part, as brave men, tried and true. they never joined the army, but had other work to do in piloting the coming folks, to help them safely through. but, brothers, we are falling, our race is almost run; the days of elk and buffalo and beaver traps are gone. oh, the days of elk and buffalo! it fills my heart with pain to know these days are past and gone to never come again. we fought the red-skin rascals over valley, hill, and plain; we fought him in the mountain top, and fought him down again. these fighting days are over; the indian yell resounds no more along the border; peace sends far sweeter sounds. but we found great joy, old comrades, to hear, and make it die; we won bright homes for gentle ones, and now, our west, good-bye. the lone buffalo hunter it's of those texas cowboys, a story i'll tell; no name i will mention though in texas they do dwell. go find them where you will, they are all so very brave, and when in good society they seldom misbehave. when the fall work is all over in the line-camp they'll be found, for they have to ride those lonesome lines the long winter round; they prove loyal to a comrade, no matter what's to do; and when in love with a fair one they seldom prove untrue. but springtime comes at last and finds them glad and gay; they ride out to the round-up about the first of may; about the first of august they start up the trail, they have to stay with the cattle, no matter rain or hail. but when they get to the shipping point, then they receive their tens, straightway to the bar-room and gently blow them in; it's the height of their ambition, so i've been truly told, to ride good horses and saddles and spend the silver and gold. those last two things i've mentioned, it is their heart's desire, and when they leave the shipping point, their eyes are like balls of fire. it's of those fighting cattle, they seem to have no fear, a-riding bucking broncos oft is their heart's desire. they will ride into the branding pen, a rope within their hands, they will catch them by each forefoot and bring them to the sands; it's altogether in practice with a little bit of sleight, a-roping texas cattle, it is their heart's delight. but now comes the rising generation to take the cowboy's place, likewise the corn-fed granger, with his bold and cheeky face; it's on those plains of texas a lone buffalo hunter does stand to tell the fate of the cowboy that rode at his right hand. the crooked trail to holbrook come all you jolly cowboys that follow the bronco steer, i'll sing to you a verse or two your spirits for to cheer; it's all about a trip, a trip that i did undergo on that crooked trail to holbrook, in arizona oh. it's on the seventeenth of february, our herd it started out, it would have made your hearts shudder to hear them bawl and shout, as wild as any buffalo that ever rode the platte, those dogies we were driving, and every one was fat. we crossed the mescal mountains on the way to gilson flats, and when we got to gilson flats, lord, how the wind did blow; it blew so hard, it blew so fierce, we knew not where to go, but our spirits never failed us as onward we did go,-- on that crooked trail to holbrook, in arizona oh. that night we had a stampede; christ, how the cattle run! we made it to our horses; i tell you, we had no fun; over the prickly pear and catclaw brush we quickly made our way; we thought of our long journey and the girls we'd left one day. it's long by sombserva we slowly punched along, while each and every puncher would sing a hearty song to cheer up his comrade as onward we did go, on that crooked trail to holbrook, in arizona oh. we crossed the mongollen mountains where the tall pines do grow, grass grows in abundance, and rippling streams do flow; our packs were always turning, of course our gait was slow, on that crooked trail to holbrook, in arizona oh. at last we got to holbrook, a little gale did blow; it blew up sand and pebble stones and it didn't blow them slow. we had to drink the water from that muddy little stream and swallowed a peck of dirt when we tried to eat a bean. but the cattle now are shipped and homeward we are bound with a lot of as tired horses as ever could be found; across the reservation no danger did we fear, but thought of wives and sweethearts and the ones we love so dear. now we are back in globe city, our friendship there to share; here's luck to every puncher that follows the bronco steer. only a cowboy away out in old texas, that great lone star state, where the mocking bird whistles both early and late; it was in western texas on the old n a range the boy fell a victim on the old staked plains. he was only a cowboy gone on before, he was only a cowboy, we will never see more; he was doing his duty on the old n a range but now he is sleeping on the old staked plains. his crew they were numbered twenty-seven or eight, the boys were like brothers, their friendship was great, when "o god, have mercy" was heard from behind,-- the cattle were left to drift on the line. he leaves a dear wife and little ones, too, to earn them a living, as fathers oft do; for while he was working for the loved ones so dear he was took without warning or one word of cheer. and while he is sleeping where the sun always shines, the boys they go dashing along on the line; the look on their faces it speaks to us all of one who departed to the home of the soul. he was only a cowboy gone on before, he was only a cowboy, we will never see more; he was doing his duty on the old n a range but now he is sleeping on the old staked plains. fuller and warren ye sons of columbia, your attention i do crave, while a sorrowful story i do tell, which happened of late, in the indiana state, and a hero not many could excel; like samson he courted, made choice of the fair, and intended to make her his wife; but she, like delilah, his heart did ensnare, which cost him his honor and his life. a gold ring he gave her in token of his love, on the face was the image of the dove; they mutually agreed to get married with speed and were promised by the powers above. but the fickle-minded maiden vowed again to wed to young warren who lived in that place; it was a fatal blow that caused his overthrow and added to her shame and disgrace. when fuller came to hear he was deprived of his dear whom he vowed by the powers to wed, with his heart full of woe unto warren he did go, and smilingly unto him he said: "young man, you have injured me to gratify your cause by reporting that i left a prudent wife; acknowledge now that you have wronged me, for although i break the laws, young warren, i'll deprive you of your life." then warren, he replied: "your request must be denied, for your darling to my heart she is bound; and further i can say that this is our wedding day, in spite of all the heroes in town." then fuller in the passion of his love and anger bound,-- alas! it caused many to cry,-- at one fatal shot killed warren on the spot, and smilingly said, "i'm ready now to die." the time was drawing nigh when fuller had to die; he bid the audience adieu. like an angel he did stand, for he was a handsome man, on his breast he had a ribbon of blue. ten thousand spectators did smite him on the breast, and the guards dropped a tear from the eye, saying, "cursed be she who caused this misery, would to god in his stead she had to die." the gentle god of love looked with anger from above and the rope flew asunder like the sand. two doctors for the pay they murdered him, they say, they hung him by main strength of hand. but the corpse it was buried and the doctors lost their prey, oh, that harlot was bribed, i do believe; bad women to a certainty are the downfall of men, as adam was beguiled by eve. fuller and warren (mus. not.) ye sons of co-lum-bia, your at-ten-tion i do crave, while a sor-ri-ful sto-ry i do tell, which hap-pened of late in the in-di-an-a state, and a he-ro ... not ma-ny could ex-cel. like sam-son he court-ed, made choice of the fair, and in-tend-ed ... to make her his wife; but she, like de-li-la,... his heart did en-snare, which cost him his hon-or and his life. the trail to mexico i made up my mind to change my way and quit my crowd that was so gay, to leave my native home for a while and to travel west for many a mile. whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. 'twas all in the merry month of may when i started for texas far away, i left my darling girl behind,-- she said her heart was only mine. whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. oh, it was when i embraced her in my arms i thought she had ten thousand charms; her caresses were soft, her kisses were sweet, saying, "we will get married next time we meet." whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. it was in the year of eighty-three that a.j. stinson hired me. he says, "young fellow, i want you to go and drive this herd to mexico." whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. the first horse they gave me was an old black with two big set-fasts on his back; i padded him with gunny-sacks and my bedding all; he went up, then down, and i got a fall. whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. the next they gave me was an old gray, i'll remember him till my dying day. and if i had to swear to the fact, i believe he was worse off than the black. whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. oh, it was early in the year when i went on trail to drive the steer. i stood my guard through sleet and snow while on the trail to mexico. whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. oh, it was a long and lonesome go as our herd rolled on to mexico; with laughter light and the cowboy's song to mexico we rolled along. whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. when i arrived in mexico i wanted to see my love but could not go; so i wrote a letter, a letter to my dear, but not a word from her could i hear. whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. when i arrived at the once loved home i called for the darling of my own; they said she had married a richer life, therefore, wild cowboy, seek another wife. whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. oh, the girl she is married i do adore, and i cannot stay at home any more; i'll cut my way to a foreign land or i'll go back west to my cowboy band. whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. i'll go back to the western land, i'll hunt up my old cowboy band,-- where the girls are few and the boys are true and a false-hearted love i never knew. whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. "o buddie, o buddie, please stay at home, don't be forever on the roam. there is many a girl more true than i, so pray don't go where the bullets fly." whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. "it's curse your gold and your silver too, god pity a girl that won't prove true; i'll travel west where the bullets fly, i'll stay on the trail till the day i die." whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo-a-whoo. the horse wrangler i thought one spring just for fun i'd see how cow-punching was done, and when the round-ups had begun i tackled the cattle-king. says he, "my foreman is in town, he's at the plaza, and his name is brown, if you'll see him, he'll take you down." says i, "that's just the thing." we started for the ranch next day; brown augured me most all the way. he said that cow-punching was nothing but play, that it was no work at all,-- that all you had to do was ride, and only drifting with the tide; the son of a gun, oh, how he lied. don't you think he had his gall? he put me in charge of a cavyard, and told me not to work too hard, that all i had to do was guard the horses from getting away; i had one hundred and sixty head, i sometimes wished that i was dead; when one got away, brown's head turned red, and there was the devil to pay. sometimes one would make a break, across the prairie he would take, as if running for a stake,-- it seemed to them but play; sometimes i could not head them at all, sometimes my horse would catch a fall and i'd shoot on like a cannon ball till the earth came in my way. they saddled me up an old gray hack with two set-fasts on his back, they padded him down with a gunny sack and used my bedding all. when i got on he quit the ground, went up in the air and turned around, and i came down and busted the ground,-- i got one hell of a fall. they took me up and carried me in and rubbed me down with an old stake pin. "that's the way they all begin; you're doing well," says brown. "and in the morning, if you don't die, i'll give you another horse to try." "oh say, can't i walk?" says i. says he, "yes, back to town." i've traveled up and i've traveled down, i've traveled this country round and round, i've lived in city and i've lived in town, but i've got this much to say: before you try cow-punching, kiss your wife, take a heavy insurance on your life, then cut your throat with a barlow knife,-- for it's easier done that way. california joe well, mates, i don't like stories; or am i going to act a part around the campfire that ain't a truthful fact? so fill your pipes and listen, i'll tell you--let me see-- i think it was in fifty, from that till sixty-three. you've all heard tell of bridger; i used to run with jim, and many a hard day's scouting i've done longside of him. well, once near old fort reno, a trapper used to dwell; we called him old pap reynolds, the scouts all knew him well. one night in the spring of fifty we camped on powder river, and killed a calf of buffalo and cooked a slice of liver. while eating, quite contented, i heard three shots or four; put out the fire and listened,-- we heard a dozen more. we knew that old man reynolds had moved his traps up here; so picking up our rifles and fixing on our gear we moved as quick as lightning, to save was our desire. too late, the painted heathens had set the house on fire. we hitched our horses quickly and waded up the stream; while down close beside the waters i heard a muffled scream. and there among the bushes a little girl did lie. i picked her up and whispered, "i'll save you or i'll die." lord, what a ride! old bridger had covered my retreat; sometimes that child would whisper in voice low and sweet, "poor papa, god will take him to mama up above; there is no one left to love me, there is no one left to love." the little one was thirteen and i was twenty-two; i says, "i'll be your father and love you just as true." she nestled to my bosom, her hazel eyes so bright, looked up and made me happy,-- the close pursuit that night. one month had passed and maggie, we called her hazel eye, in truth was going to leave me, was going to say good-bye. her uncle, mad jack reynolds, reported long since dead, had come to claim my angel, his brother's child, he said. what could i say? we parted, mad jack was growing old; i handed him a bank note and all i had in gold. they rode away at sunrise, i went a mile or two, and parting says, "we will meet again; may god watch over you." by a laughing, dancing brook a little cabin stood, and weary with a long day's scout, i spied it in the wood. the pretty valley stretched beyond, the mountains towered above, and near its willow banks i heard the cooing of a dove. 'twas one grand pleasure; the brook was plainly seen, like a long thread of silver in a cloth of lovely green; the laughter of the water, the cooing of the dove, was like some painted picture, some well-told tale of love. while drinking in the country and resting in the saddle, i heard a gentle rippling like the dipping of a paddle, and turning to the water, a strange sight met my view,-- a lady with her rifle in a little bark canoe. she stood up in the center, with her rifle to her eye; i thought just for a second my time had come to die. i doffed my hat and told her, if it was just the same, to drop her little shooter, for i was not her game. she dropped the deadly weapon and leaped from the canoe. says she, "i beg your pardon; i thought you was a sioux. your long hair and your buckskin looked warrior-like and rough; my bead was spoiled by sunshine, or i'd have killed you sure enough." "perhaps it would've been better if you'd dropped me then," says i; "for surely such an angel would bear me to the sky." she blushingly dropped her eyelids, her cheeks were crimson red; one half-shy glance she gave me and then hung down her head. i took her little hand in mine; she wondered what it meant, and yet she drew it not away, but rather seemed content. we sat upon the mossy bank, her eyes began to fill; the brook was rippling at our feet, the dove was cooing still. 'tis strong arms were thrown around her. "i'll save you or i'll die." i clasped her to my bosom, my long lost hazel eye. the rapture of that moment was almost heaven to me; i kissed her 'mid the tear-drops, her merriment and glee. her heart near mine was beating when sobbingly she said, "my dear, my brave preserver, they told me you were dead. but oh, those parting words, joe, have never left my mind, you said, 'we'll meet again, mag,' then rode off like the wind. "and oh, how i have prayed, joe, for you who saved my life, that god would send an angel to guide you through all strife. the one who claimed me from you, my uncle, good and true, is sick in yonder cabin; has talked so much of you. "'if joe were living darling,' he said to me last night, 'he would care for you, maggie, when god puts out my light.'" we found the old man sleeping. "hush, maggie, let him rest." the sun was slowly setting in the far-off, glowing west. and though we talked in whispers he opened wide his eyes: "a dream, a dream," he murmured; "alas, a dream of lies." she drifted like a shadow to where the old man lay. "you had a dream, dear uncle, another dream to-day?" "oh yes, i saw an angel as pure as mountain snow, and near her at my bedside stood california joe." "i'm sure i'm not an angel, dear uncle, that you know; these hands that hold your hand, too, my face is not like snow. "now listen while i tell you, for i have news to cheer; hazel eye is happy, for joe is truly here." it was but a few days after the old man said to me, "joe, boy, she is an angel, and good as angels be. "for three long months she hunted, and trapped and nursed me too; god bless you, boy, i believe it, she's safe along with you." the sun was slowly sinking, when maggie, my wife, and i went riding through the valley, the tear-drops in her eye. "one year ago to-day, joe, i saw the mossy grave; we laid him neath the daisies, my uncle, good and brave." and comrade, every springtime is sure to find me there; there is something in the valley that is always fresh and fair. our love is always kindled while sitting by the stream, where two hearts were united in love's sweet happy dream. the boston burglar i was born in boston city, a city you all know well, brought up by honest parents, the truth to you i'll tell, brought up by honest parents and raised most tenderly, till i became a roving man at the age of twenty-three. my character was taken then, and i was sent to jail. my friends they found it was in vain to get me out on bail. the jury found me guilty, the clerk he wrote it down, the judge he passed me sentence and i was sent to charleston town. you ought to have seen my aged father a-pleading at the bar, also my dear old mother a-tearing of her hair, tearing of her old gray locks as the tears came rolling down, saying, "son, dear son, what have you done, that you are sent to charleston town?" they put me aboard an eastbound train one cold december day, and every station that we passed, i'd hear the people say, "there goes a noted burglar, in strong chains he'll be bound,-- for the doing of some crime or other he is sent to charleston town." there is a girl in boston, she is a girl that i love well, and if i ever gain my liberty, along with her i'll dwell; and when i regain my liberty, bad company i will shun, night-walking, gambling, and also drinking rum. now, you who have your liberty, pray keep it if you can, and don't go around the streets at night to break the laws of man; for if you do you'll surely rue and find yourself like me, a-serving out my twenty-one years in the penitentiary. sam bass sam bass was born in indiana, it was his native home, and at the age of seventeen young sam began to roam. sam first came out to texas a cowboy for to be,-- a kinder-hearted fellow you seldom ever see. sam used to deal in race stock, one called the denton mare, he matched her in scrub races, and took her to the fair. sam used to coin the money and spent it just as free, he always drank good whiskey wherever he might be. sam left the collin's ranch in the merry month of may with a herd of texas cattle the black hills for to see, sold out in custer city and then got on a spree,-- a harder set of cowboys you seldom ever see. on their way back to texas they robbed the u.p. train, and then split up in couples and started out again. joe collins and his partner were overtaken soon, with all their hard-earned money they had to meet their doom. sam made it back to texas all right side up with care; rode into the town of denton with all his friends to share. sam's life was short in texas; three robberies did he do, he robbed all the passenger, mail, and express cars too. sam had four companions--four bold and daring lads-- they were richardson, jackson, joe collins, and old dad; four more bold and daring cowboys the rangers never knew, they whipped the texas rangers and ran the boys in blue. sam had another companion, called arkansas for short, was shot by a texas ranger by the name of thomas floyd; oh, tom is a big six-footer and thinks he's mighty fly, but i can tell you his racket,--he's a deadbeat on the sly. jim murphy was arrested, and then released on bail; he jumped his bond at tyler and then took the train for terrell; but mayor jones had posted jim and that was all a stall, 'twas only a plan to capture sam before the coming fall. sam met his fate at round rock, july the twenty-first, they pierced poor sam with rifle balls and emptied out his purse. poor sam he is a corpse and six foot under clay, and jackson's in the bushes trying to get away. jim had borrowed sam's good gold and didn't want to pay, the only shot he saw was to give poor sam away. he sold out sam and barnes and left their friends to mourn,-- oh, what a scorching jim will get when gabriel blows his horn. and so he sold out sam and barnes and left their friends to mourn, oh, what a scorching jim will get when gabriel blows his horn. perhaps he's got to heaven, there's none of us can say, but if i'm right in my surmise he's gone the other way. sam bass (mus. not.) sam bass was born in in-di-an-a, it was his na-tive home; and at the age of sev-en-teen, young sam be-gan to roam. sam first came out to tex-as, a cow-boy for to be; a kind-er-heart-ed fel-low you sel-dom ev-er see. the zebra dun we were camped on the plains at the head of the cimarron when along came a stranger and stopped to arger some. he looked so very foolish that we began to look around, we thought he was a greenhorn that had just 'scaped from town. we asked if he had been to breakfast; he hadn't had a smear, so we opened up the chuck-box and bade him have his share. he took a cup of coffee and some biscuits and some beans, and then began to talk and tell about foreign kings and queens,-- about the spanish war and fighting on the seas with guns as big as steers and ramrods big as trees,-- and about old paul jones, a mean, fighting son of a gun, who was the grittiest cuss that ever pulled a gun. such an educated feller his thoughts just came in herds, he astonished all them cowboys with them jaw-breaking words. he just kept on talking till he made the boys all sick, and they began to look around just how to play a trick. he said he had lost his job upon the santa fé and was going across the plains to strike the -d. he didn't say how come it, some trouble with the boss, but said he'd like to borrow a nice fat saddle hoss. this tickled all the boys to death, they laughed way down in their sleeves,-- "we will lend you a horse just as fresh and fat as you please." shorty grabbed a lariat and roped the zebra dun and turned him over to the stranger and waited for the fun. old dunny was a rocky outlaw that had grown so awful wild that he could paw the white out of the moon every jump for a mile. old dunny stood right still,--as if he didn't know,-- until he was saddled and ready for to go. when the stranger hit the saddle, old dunny quit the earth and traveled right straight up for all that he was worth. a-pitching and a-squealing, a-having wall-eyed fits, his hind feet perpendicular, his front ones in the bits. we could see the tops of the mountains under dunny every jump, but the stranger he was growed there just like the camel's hump; the stranger sat upon him and curled his black mustache just like a summer boarder waiting for his hash. he thumped him in the shoulders and spurred him when he whirled, to show them flunky punchers that he was the wolf of the world. when the stranger had dismounted once more upon the ground, we knew he was a thoroughbred and not a gent from town; the boss who was standing round watching of the show, walked right up to the stranger and told him he needn't go,-- "if you can use the lasso like you rode old zebra dun, you are the man i've been looking for ever since the year one." oh, he could twirl the lariat and he didn't do it slow, he could catch them fore feet nine out of ten for any kind of dough. and when the herd stampeded he was always on the spot and set them to nothing, like the boiling of a pot. there's one thing and a shore thing i've learned since i've been born, that every educated feller ain't a plumb greenhorn. the buffalo skinners come all you jolly fellows and listen to my song, there are not many verses, it will not detain you long; it's concerning some young fellows who did agree to go and spend one summer pleasantly on the range of the buffalo. it happened in jacksboro in the spring of seventy-three, a man by the name of crego came stepping up to me, saying, "how do you do, young fellow, and how would you like to go and spend one summer pleasantly on the range of the buffalo?" "it's me being out of employment," this to crego i did say, "this going out on the buffalo range depends upon the pay. but if you will pay good wages and transportation too, i think, sir, i will go with you to the range of the buffalo." "yes, i will pay good wages, give transportation too, provided you will go with me and stay the summer through; but if you should grow homesick, come back to jacksboro, i won't pay transportation from the range of the buffalo." it's now our outfit was complete--seven able-bodied men, with navy six and needle gun--our troubles did begin; our way it was a pleasant one, the route we had to go, until we crossed pease river on the range of the buffalo. it's now we've crossed pease river, our troubles have begun. the first damned tail i went to rip, christ! how i cut my thumb! while skinning the damned old stinkers our lives wasn't a show, for the indians watched to pick us off while skinning the buffalo. he fed us on such sorry chuck i wished myself most dead, it was old jerked beef, croton coffee, and sour bread. pease river's as salty as hell fire, the water i could never go,-- o god! i wished i had never come to the range of the buffalo. our meat it was buffalo hump and iron wedge bread, and all we had to sleep on was a buffalo robe for a bed; the fleas and gray-backs worked on us, o boys, it was not slow, i'll tell you there's no worse hell on earth than the range of the buffalo. our hearts were cased with buffalo hocks, our souls were cased with steel, and the hardships of that summer would nearly make us reel. while skinning the damned old stinkers our lives they had no show, for the indians waited to pick us off on the hills of mexico. the season being near over, old crego he did say the crowd had been extravagant, was in debt to him that day,-- we coaxed him and we begged him and still it was no go,-- we left old crego's bones to bleach on the range of the buffalo. oh, it's now we've crossed pease river and homeward we are bound, no more in that hell-fired country shall ever we be found. go home to our wives and sweethearts, tell others not to go, for god's forsaken the buffalo range and the damned old buffalo. range of the buffalo (mus. not.) 'twas in the town of jacksbo-ro, in eigh-teen eigh-ty- three, when a man by the name of cre-go... came step-ping up to me; say-ing, "how do you do, young fel-low, and how would you like to go... and spend one summer sea-son on the range of the buf-fa-lo?" macaffie's confession now come young men and list to me, a sad and mournful history; and may you ne'er forgetful be of what i tell this day to thee. oh, i was thoughtless, young, and gay and often broke the sabbath day, in wickedness i took delight and sometimes done what wasn't right. i'd scarcely passed my fifteenth year, my mother and my father dear were silent in their deep, dark grave, their spirits gone to him who gave. 'twas on a pleasant summer day when from my home i ran away and took unto myself a wife, which step was fatal to my life. oh, she was kind and good to me as ever woman ought to be, and might this day have been alive no doubt, had i not met miss hatty stout. ah, well i mind the fatal day when hatty stole my heart away; 'twas love for her controlled my will and did cause me my wife to kill. 'twas on a brilliant summer's night when all was still; the stars shone bright. my wife lay still upon the bed and i approached to her and said: "dear wife, here's medicine i've brought, for you this day, my love, i've bought. i know it will be good for you for those vile fits,--pray take it, do." she cast on me a loving look and in her mouth the poison took; down by her infant on the bed in her last, long sleep she laid her head. oh, who could tell a mother's thought when first to her the news was brought; the sheriff said her son was sought and into prison must be brought. only a mother standing by to hear them tell the reason why her son in prison, he must lie till on the scaffold he must die. my father, sixty years of age, the best of counsel did engage, to see if something could be done to save his disobedient son. so, farewell, mother, do not weep, though soon with demons i will sleep, my soul now feels its mental hell and soon with demons i will dwell. * * * * * the sheriff cut the slender cord, his soul went up to meet its lord; the doctor said, "the wretch is dead, his spirit from his body's fled." his weeping mother cried aloud, "o god, do save this gazing crowd, that none may ever have to pay for gambling on the sabbath day." little joe, the wrangler it's little joe, the wrangler, he'll wrangle never more, his days with the _remuda_ they are o'er; 'twas a year ago last april when he rode into our camp,-- just a little texas stray and all alone,-- on a little texas pony he called "chaw." with his brogan shoes and overalls, a tougher kid you never in your life before had saw. his saddle was a texas "kak," built many years ago, with an o.k. spur on one foot lightly swung; his "hot roll" in a cotton sack so loosely tied behind, and his canteen from his saddle-horn was swung. he said that he had to leave his home, his pa had married twice; and his new ma whipped him every day or two; so he saddled up old chaw one night and lit a shuck this way, and he's now trying to paddle his own canoe. he said if we would give him work, he'd do the best he could, though he didn't know straight up about a cow; so the boss he cut him out a mount and kindly put him on, for he sorta liked this little kid somehow. learned him to wrangle horses and to try to know them all, and get them in at daylight if he could; to follow the chuck-wagon and always hitch the team, and to help the _cocinero_ rustle wood. we had driven to the pecos, the weather being fine; we had camped on the south side in a bend; when a norther commenced blowin', we had doubled up our guard, for it taken all of us to hold them in. little joe, the wrangler, was called out with the rest; though the kid had scarcely reached the herd, when the cattle they stampeded, like a hailstorm long they fled, then we were all a-ridin' for the lead. 'midst the streaks of lightin' a horse we could see in the lead, 'twas little joe, the wrangler, in the lead; he was riding old blue rocket with a slicker o'er his head, a tryin' to check the cattle in their speed. at last we got them milling and kinda quieted down, and the extra guard back to the wagon went; but there was one a-missin' and we knew it at a glance, 'twas our little texas stray, poor wrangling joe. the next morning just at day break, we found where rocket fell, down in a washout twenty feet below; and beneath the horse, mashed to a pulp,--his spur had rung the knell,-- was our little texas stray, poor wrangling joe. little joe, the wrangler (mus. not.) lit-tle joe, the wran-gler, he'll wran-gle nev-er-more, rode up to our herd his days with the re--mu--da they are o'er; on a lit-tle tex-as po-ny he call'd chaw; 'twas a year a-go last a-pril he rode in-to our herd; with his bro-gan shoes and o-veralls, a tough-er look-in' kid just a lit-tle tex-as stray, and all a-lone. you nev-er in your life be-fore had saw. it was late in the eve-ning he harry bale come all kind friends and kindred dear and christians young and old, a story i'll relate to you, 'twill make your blood run cold; 'tis all about an unfortunate boy who lived not far from here, in the township of arcade in the county of lapeer. it seems his occupation was a sawyer in a mill, he followed it successfully two years, one month, until, until this fatal accident that caused many to weep and wail; 'twas where this young man lost his life,--his name was harry bale. on the th of april in the year of seventy-nine, he went to work as usual, no fear did he design; in lowering of the feed bar throwing the carriage into gear it brought him down upon the saw and cut him quite severe; it cut him through the collar-bone and half way down the back, it threw him down upon the saw, the carriage coming back. he started for the shanty, his strength was failing fast; he said, "oh, boys, i'm wounded: i fear it is my last." his brothers they were sent for, likewise his sisters too, the doctors came and dressed his wound, but kind words proved untrue. poor harry had no father to weep beside his bed, no kind and loving mother to sooth his aching head. he was just as gallant a young man as ever you wished to know, but he withered like a flower, it was his time to go. they placed him in his coffin and laid him in his grave; his brothers and sisters mourned the loss of a brother so true and brave. they took him to the graveyard and laid him away to rest, his body lies mouldering, his soul is among the blest. foreman monroe come all you brave young shanty boys, and list while i relate concerning a young shanty boy and his untimely fate; concerning a young river man, so manly, true and brave; 'twas on a jam at gerry's rock he met his watery grave; 'twas on a sunday morning as you will quickly hear, our logs were piled up mountain high, we could not keep them clear. our foreman said, "come on, brave boys, with hearts devoid of fear, we'll break the jam on gerry's rock and for agonstown we'll steer." now, some of them were willing, while others they were not, all for to work on sunday they did not think they ought; but six of our brave shanty boys had volunteered to go and break the jam on gerry's rock with their foreman, young monroe. they had not rolled off many logs 'till they heard his clear voice say, "i'd have you boys be on your guard, for the jam will soon give way." these words he'd scarcely spoken when the jam did break and go, taking with it six of those brave boys and their foreman, young monroe. now when those other shanty boys this sad news came to hear, in search of their dead comrades to the river they did steer; six of their mangled bodies a-floating down did go, while crushed and bleeding near the banks lay the foreman, young monroe. they took him from his watery grave, brushed back his raven hair; there was a fair form among them whose cries did rend the air; there was a fair form among them, a girl from saginaw town. whose cries rose to the skies for her lover who'd gone down. fair clara was a noble girl, the river-man's true friend; she and her widowed mother lived at the river's bend; and the wages of her own true love the boss to her did pay, but the shanty boys for her made up a generous sum next day. they buried him quite decently; 'twas on the first of may; come all you brave young shanty boys and for your comrade pray. engraved upon the hemlock tree that by the grave does grow is the aged date and the sad fate of the foreman, young monroe. fair clara did not long survive, her heart broke with her grief; and less than three months afterwards death came to her relief; and when the time had come and she was called to go, her last request was granted, to be laid by young monroe. come all you brave young shanty boys, i'd have you call and see two green graves by the river side where grows a hemlock tree; the shanty boys cut off the wood where lay those lovers low,-- 'tis the handsome clara vernon and her true love, jack monroe. the dreary black hills kind friends, you must pity my horrible tale, i am an object of pity, i am looking quite stale, i gave up my trade selling right's patent pills to go hunting gold in the dreary black hills. don't go away, stay at home if you can, stay away from that city, they call it cheyenne, for big walipe or comanche bills they will lift up your hair on the dreary black hills. the round-house in cheyenne is filled every night with loafers and bummers of most every plight; on their backs is no clothes, in their pockets no bills, each day they keep starting for the dreary black hills. i got to cheyenne, no gold could i find, i thought of the lunch route i'd left far behind; through rain, hail, and snow, frozen plumb to the gills,-- they call me the orphan of the dreary black hills. kind friend, to conclude, my advice i'll unfold, don't go to the black hills a-hunting for gold; railroad speculators their pockets you'll fill by taking a trip to those dreary black hills. don't go away, stay at home if you can, stay away from that city, they call it cheyenne, for old sitting bull or comanche bills they will take off your scalp on the dreary black hills. the dreary black hills (mus. not.) kind friends, you must pit-y my hor-ri-ble tale, i'm an ob-ject of pit-y, i'm look-ing quite stale; i gave up my trade, selling right's pat-ent pills, to go hunt-ing gold in the drear-y black hills. refrain don't go a-way, stay at home if you can; stay a-way from that cit-y they call it chey-enne; for big wal-i-pee or co-man-che bills, they will lift up your hair on the drear-y black hills. a mormon song i used to live on cottonwood and owned a little farm, i was called upon a mission that gave me much alarm; the reason that they called me, i'm sure i do not know. but to hoe the cane and cotton, straightway i must go. i yoked up jim and baldy, all ready for the start; to leave my farm and garden, it almost broke my heart; but at last we got started, i cast a look behind, for the sand and rocks of dixie were running through my mind. now, when we got to black ridge, my wagon it broke down, and i, being no carpenter and forty miles from town,-- i cut a clumsy cedar and rigged an awkward slide, but the wagon ran so heavy poor betsy couldn't ride. while betsy was out walking i told her to take care, when all of a sudden she struck a prickly pear, then she began to hollow as loud as she could bawl,-- if i were back in cottonwood, i wouldn't go at all. now, when we got to sand ridge, we couldn't go at all, old jim and old baldy began to puff and loll, i cussed and swore a little, for i couldn't make the route, for the team and i and betsy were all of us played out. at length we got to washington; i thought we'd stay a while to see if the flowers would make their virgin smile, but i was much mistaken, for when we went away the red hills of september were just the same in may. it is so very dreary, there's nothing here to cheer, but old pathetic sermons we very often hear; they preach them by the dozens and prove them by the book, but i'd sooner have a roasting-ear and stay at home and cook. i am so awful weary i'm sure i'm almost dead; 'tis six long weeks last sunday since i have tasted bread; of turnip-tops and lucerne greens i've had enough to eat, but i'd like to change my diet to buckwheat cakes and meat. i had to sell my wagon for sorghum seed and bread; old jim and old baldy have long since been dead. there's no one left but me and bet to hoe the cotton tree,-- god pity any mormon that attempts to follow me! the buffalo hunters come all you pretty girls, to you these lines i'll write, we are going to the range in which we take delight; we are going on the range as we poor hunters do, and the tender-footed fellows can stay at home with you. it's all of the day long as we go tramping round in search of the buffalo that we may shoot him down; our guns upon our shoulders, our belts of forty rounds, we send them up salt river to some happy hunting grounds. our game, it is the antelope, the buffalo, wolf, and deer, who roam the wide prairies without a single fear; we rob him of his robe and think it is no harm, to buy us food and clothing to keep our bodies warm. the buffalo, he is the noblest of the band, he sometimes rejects in throwing up his hand. his shaggy main thrown forward, his head raised to the sky, he seems to say, "we're coming, boys; so hunter, mind your eye." our fires are made of mesquite roots, our beds are on the ground; our houses made of buffalo hides, we make them tall and round; our furniture is the camp kettle, the coffee pot, and pan, our chuck it is both bread and meat, mingled well with sand. our neighbors are the cheyennes, the 'rapahoes, and sioux, their mode of navigation is a buffalo-hide canoe. and when they come upon you they take you unaware, and such a peculiar way they have of raising hunter's hair. the little old sod shanty i am looking rather seedy now while holding down my claim, and my victuals are not always served the best; and the mice play shyly round me as i nestle down to rest in my little old sod shanty on my claim. the hinges are of leather and the windows have no glass, while the board roof lets the howling blizzards in, and i hear the hungry cayote as he slinks up through the grass round the little old sod shanty on my claim. yet, i rather like the novelty of living in this way, though my bill of fare is always rather tame, but i'm happy as a clam on the land of uncle sam in the little old sod shanty on my claim. but when i left my eastern home, a bachelor so gay, to try and win my way to wealth and fame, i little thought i'd come down to burning twisted hay in the little old sod shanty on my claim. my clothes are plastered o'er with dough, i'm looking like a fright, and everything is scattered round the room, but i wouldn't give the freedom that i have out in the west for the table of the eastern man's old home. still, i wish that some kind-hearted girl would pity on me take and relieve me from the mess that i am in; the angel, how i'd bless her if this her home she'd make in the little old sod shanty on my claim. and we would make our fortunes on the prairies of the west, just as happy as two lovers we'd remain; we'd forget the trials and troubles we endured at the first in the little old sod shanty on my claim. and if fate should bless us with now and then an heir to cheer our hearts with honest pride of fame, oh, then we'd be contented for the toil that we had spent in the little old sod shanty on our claim. when time enough had lapsed and all those little brats to noble man and womanhood had grown, it wouldn't seem half so lonely as round us we should look and we'd see the old sod shanty on our claim. the gol-darned wheel i can take the wildest bronco in the tough old woolly west. i can ride him, i can break him, let him do his level best; i can handle any cattle ever wore a coat of hair, and i've had a lively tussle with a tarnel grizzly bear. i can rope and throw the longhorn of the wildest texas brand, and in indian disagreements i can play a leading hand, but at last i got my master and he surely made me squeal when the boys got me a-straddle of that gol-darned wheel. it was at the eagle ranch, on the brazos, when i first found that darned contrivance that upset me in the dust. a tenderfoot had brought it, he was wheeling all the way from the sun-rise end of freedom out to san francisco bay. he tied up at the ranch for to get outside a meal, never thinking we would monkey with his gol-darned wheel. arizona jim begun it when he said to jack mcgill there was fellows forced to limit bragging on their riding skill, and he'd venture the admission the same fellow that he meant was a very handy cutter far as riding bronchos went; but he would find that he was bucking 'gainst a different kind of deal if he threw his leather leggins 'gainst a gol-darned wheel. such a slam against my talent made me hotter than a mink, and i swore that i would ride him for amusement or for chink. and it was nothing but a plaything for the kids and such about, and they'd have their ideas shattered if they'd lead the critter out. they held it while i mounted and gave the word to go; the shove they gave to start me warn't unreasonably slow. but i never spilled a cuss word and i never spilled a squeal-- i was building reputation on that gol-darned wheel. holy moses and the prophets, how we split the texas air, and the wind it made whip-crackers of my same old canthy hair, and i sorta comprehended as down the hill we went there was bound to be a smash-up that i couldn't well prevent. oh, how them punchers bawled, "stay with her, uncle bill! stick your spurs in her, you sucker! turn her muzzle up the hill!" but i never made an answer, i just let the cusses squeal, i was finding reputation on that gol-darned wheel. the grade was mighty sloping from the ranch down to the creek and i went a-galliflutin' like a crazy lightning streak,-- went whizzing and a-darting first this way and then that, the darned contrivance sort o' wobbling like the flying of a bat. i pulled upon the handles, but i couldn't check it up, and i yanked and sawed and hollowed but the darned thing wouldn't stop. then a sort of a meachin' in my brain began to steal, that the devil held a mortgage on that gol-darned wheel. i've a sort of dim and hazy remembrance of the stop, with the world a-goin' round and the stars all tangled up; then there came an intermission that lasted till i found i was lying at the ranch with the boys all gathered round, and a doctor was a-sewing on the skin where it was ripped, and old arizona whispered, "well, old boy, i guess you're whipped," and i told him i was busted from sombrero down to heel, and he grinned and said, "you ought to see that gol-darned wheel." bonnie black bess when fortune's blind goddess had fled my abode, and friends proved unfaithful, i took to the road; to plunder the wealthy and relieve my distress, i bought you to aid me, my bonnie black bess. no vile whip nor spur did your sides ever gall, for none did you need, you would bound at my call; and for each act of kindness you would me caress, thou art never unfaithful, my bonnie black bess. when dark, sable midnight her mantle had thrown o'er the bright face of nature, how oft we have gone to the famed houndslow heath, though an unwelcome guest to the minions of fortune, my bonnie black bess. how silent you stood when the carriage i stopped, the gold and the jewels its inmates would drop. no poor man i plundered nor e'er did oppress the widows or orphans, my bonnie black bess. when argus-eyed justice did me hot pursue, from yorktown to london like lightning we flew. no toll bars could stop you, the waters did breast, and in twelve hours we made it, my bonnie black bess. but hate darkens o'er me, despair is my lot, and the law does pursue me for the many i've shot; to save me, poor brute, thou hast done thy best, thou art worn out and weary, my bonnie black bess. hark! they never shall have a beast like thee; so noble and gentle and brave, thou must die, my dumb friend, though it does me distress,-- there! there! i have shot thee, my bonnie black bess. in after years when i am dead and gone, this story will be handed from father to son; my fate some will pity, and some will confess 'twas through kindness i killed thee, my bonnie black bess. no one can e'er say that ingratitude dwelt in the bosom of turpin,-- 'twas a vice never felt. i will die like a man and soon be at rest; now, farewell forever, my bonnie black bess. the last longhorn an ancient long-horned bovine lay dying by the river; there was lack of vegetation and the cold winds made him shiver; a cowboy sat beside him with sadness in his face. to see his final passing,-- this last of a noble race. the ancient eunuch struggled and raised his shaking head, saying, "i care not to linger when all my friends are dead. these jerseys and these holsteins, they are no friends of mine; they belong to the nobility who live across the brine. "tell the durhams and the herefords when they come a-grazing round, and see me lying stark and stiff upon the frozen ground, i don't want them to bellow when they see that i am dead, for i was born in texas near the river that is red. "tell the cayotes, when they come at night a-hunting for their prey, they might as well go further, for they'll find it will not pay. if they attempt to eat me, they very soon will see that my bones and hide are petrified,-- they'll find no beef on me. "i remember back in the seventies, full many summers past, there was grass and water plenty, but it was too good to last. i little dreamed what would happen some twenty summers hence, when the nester came with his wife, his kids, his dogs, and his barbed-wire fence." his voice sank to a murmur, his breath was short and quick; the cowboy tried to skin him when he saw he couldn't kick; he rubbed his knife upon his boot until he made it shine, but he never skinned old longhorn, caze he couldn't cut his rine. and the cowboy riz up sadly and mounted his cayuse, saying, "the time has come when longhorns and their cowboys are no use!" and while gazing sadly backward upon the dead bovine, his bronc stepped in a dog-hole and fell and broke his spine. the cowboys and the longhorns who partnered in eighty-four have gone to their last round-up over on the other shore; they answered well their purpose, but their glory must fade and go, because men say there's better things in the modern cattle show. a prisoner for life fare you well, green fields, soft meadows, adieu! rocks and mountains, i depart from you; nevermore shall my eyes by your beauties be blest, nevermore shall you soothe my sad bosom to rest. farewell, little birdies, that fly in the sky, you fly all day long and sing your troubles by; i am doomed to this cell, i heave a deep sigh; my heart sinks within me, in anguish i die. fare you well, little fishes, that glides through the sea, your life's all sunshine, all light, and all glee; nevermore shall i watch your skill in the wave, i'll depart from all friends this side of the grave. what would i give such freedom to share, to roam at my ease and breathe the fresh air; i would roam through the cities, through village and dell, but i never would return to my cold prison cell. what's life without liberty? i ofttimes have said, of a poor troubled mind that's always in dread; no sun, moon, and stars can on me now shine, no change in my danger from daylight till dawn. fare you well, kind friends, i am willing to own, such a wild outcast never was known; i'm the downfall of my family, my children, my wife; god pity and pardon the poor prisoner for life. a prisoner for life (mus. not.) fare you well green fields,... soft mead-ows, a-dieu! rocks and moun-tains i de-part ... from you, nev-er-more shall my eyes by your beau-ties be fed, nev-er more shall you soothe my poor bo-som to rest. the wars of germany there was a wealthy merchant, in london he did dwell, he had an only daughter, the truth to you i'll tell. sing i am left alone, sing i am left alone. she was courted by a lord of very high degree, she was courted by a sailor jack just from the wars of germany. sing i am left alone, sing i am left alone. her parents came to know this, that such a thing could be, a sailor jack, a sailor lad, just from the wars of germany. sing i am left alone, sing i am left alone. so polly she's at home with money at command, she taken a notion to view some foreign land. sing i am left alone, sing i am left alone. she went to the tailor's shop and dressed herself in man's array, and was off to an officer to carry her straight away. sing i am left alone, sing i am left alone. "good morning," says the officer, and "morning," says she, "here's fifty guineas if you'll carry me to the wars of germany." sing i am left alone, sing i am left alone. "your waist is too slender, your fingers are too small, i am afraid from your countenance you can't face a cannon ball." sing i am left alone, sing i am left alone. "my waist is not too slender, my fingers are not too small, and never would i quiver to face a cannon ball." sing i am left alone, sing i am left alone. "we don't often 'list an officer unless the name we know;" she answered him in a low, sweet voice, "you may call me jack munro." sing i am left alone, sing i am left alone. we gathered up our men and quickly we did sail, we landed in france with a sweet and pleasant gale. sing i am left alone, sing i am left alone. we were walking on the land, up and down the line,-- among the dead and wounded her own true love she did find. sing i am left alone, sing i am left alone. she picked him up all in her arms, to tousen town she went; she soon found a doctor to dress and heal his wounds, sing i am left alone, sing i am left alone. so jacky, he is married, and his bride by his side, in spite of her old parents and all the world beside. sing no longer left alone, sing no longer left alone. freighting from wilcox to globe come all you jolly freighters that has freighted on the road, that has hauled a load of freight from wilcox to globe; we freighted on this road for sixteen years or more a-hauling freight for livermore,-- no wonder that i'm poor. and it's home, dearest home; and it's home you ought to be, over on the gila in the white man's country, where the poplar and the ash and mesquite will ever be growing green down on the gila; there's a home for you and me. 'twas in the spring of seventy-three i started with my team, led by false illusion and those foolish, golden dreams; the first night out from wilcox my best wheel horse was stole, and it makes me curse a little to come out in the hole. this then only left me three,-- kit, mollie and old mike; mike being the best one of the three i put him out on spike; i then took the mountain road so the people would not smile, and it took fourteen days to travel thirteen mile. but i got there all the same with my little three-up spike; it taken all my money, then, to buy a mate for mike. you all know how it is when once you get behind, you never get even again till you damn steal them blind. i was an honest man when i first took to the road, i would not swear an oath, nor would i tap a load; but now you ought to see my mules when i begin to cuss, they flop their ears and wiggle their tails and pull the load or bust. now i can tap a whiskey barrel with nothing but a stick, no one can detect me i've got it down so slick; just fill it up with water,-- sure, there's no harm in that. now my clothes are not the finest, nor are they genteel; but they will have to do me till i can make another steal. my boots are number elevens, for i swiped them from a chow, and my coat cost dos reals from a little apache squaw. now i have freighted in the sand, i have freighted in the rain, i have bogged my wagons down and dug them out again; i have worked both late and early till i was almost dead, and i have spent some nights sleeping in an arizona bed. now barbed wire and bacon is all that they will pay, but you have to show your copper checks to get your grain and hay; if you ask them for five dollars, old meyers will scratch his pate, and the clerks in their white, stiff collars say, "get down and pull your freight." but i want to die and go to hell, get there before livermore and meyers, and get a job of hauling coke to keep up the devil's fires; if i get the job of singeing them, i'll see they don't get free; i'll treat them like a yaller dog, as they have treated me. and it's home, dearest home; and it's home you ought to be, over on the gila, in the white man's country, where the poplar and the ash and mesquite will ever be growing green down on the gila; there's a home for you and me. the arizona boys and girls come all of you people, i pray you draw near, a comical ditty you all shall hear. the boys in this country they try to advance by courting the ladies and learning to dance,-- and they're down, down, and they're down. the boys in this country they try to be plain, those words that you hear you may hear them again, with twice as much added on if you can. there's many a boy stuck up for a man,-- and they're down, down, and they're down. they will go to their parties, their whiskey they'll take, and out in the dark their bottles they'll break; you'll hear one say, "there's a bottle around here; so come around, boys, and we'll all take a share,"-- and they're down, down, and they're down. there is some wears shoes and some wears boots, but there are very few that rides who don't shoot; more than this, i'll tell you what they'll do, they'll get them a watch and a ranger hat, too,-- and they're down, down, and they're down. they'll go in the hall with spurs on their heel, they'll get them a partner to dance the next reel, saying, "how do i look in my new brown suit, with my pants stuffed down in the top of my boot?"-- and they're down, down, and they're down. now i think it's quite time to leave off these lads for here are some girls that's fully as bad; they'll trim up their dresses and curl up their hair, and like an old owl before the glass they'll stare,-- and they're down, down, and they're down. the girls in the country they grin like a cat, and with giggling and laughing they don't know what they're at, they think they're pretty and i tell you they're wise, but they couldn't get married to save their two eyes,-- and they're down, down, and they're down. you can tell a good girl wherever she's found; no trimming, no lace, no nonsense around; with a long-eared bonnet tied under her chin,-- . . . . . . . . . . . . and they're down, down, and they're down. they'll go to church with their snuff-box in hand, they'll give it a tap to make it look grand; perhaps there is another one or two and they'll pass it around and it's "madam, won't you,"-- and they're down, down, and they're down. now, i think it's quite time for this ditty to end; if there's anyone here that it will offend, if there's anyone here that thinks it amiss just come around now and give the singer a kiss,-- and they're down, down, and they're down. the dying ranger the sun was sinking in the west and fell with lingering ray through the branches of a forest where a wounded ranger lay; beneath the shade of a palmetto and the sunset silvery sky, far away from his home in texas they laid him down to die. a group had gathered round him, his comrades in the fight, a tear rolled down each manly cheek as he bid a last good-night. one tried and true companion was kneeling by his side, to stop his life-blood flowing, but alas, in vain he tried. when to stop the life-blood flowing he found 'twas all in vain, the tears rolled down each man's cheek like light showers of rain. up spoke the noble ranger, "boys, weep no more for me, i am crossing the deep waters to a country that is free. "draw closer to me, comrades, and listen to what i say, i am going to tell a story while my spirit hastens away. way back in northwest texas, that good old lone star state, there is one that for my coming with a weary heart will wait. "a fair young girl, my sister, my only joy, my pride, she was my friend from boyhood, i had no one left beside. i have loved her as a brother, and with a father's care i have strove from grief and sorrov her gentle heart to spare. "my mother, she lies sleeping beneath the church-yard sod, and many a day has passed away since her spirit fled to god. my father, he lies sleeping beneath the deep blue sea, i have no other kindred, there are none but nell and me. "but our country was invaded and they called for volunteers; she threw her arms around me, then burst into tears, saying, 'go, my darling brother, drive those traitors from our shore, my heart may need your presence, but our country needs you more.' "it is true i love my country, for her i gave my all. if it hadn't been for my sister, i would be content to fall. i am dying, comrades, dying, she will never see me more, but in vain she'll wait my coming by our little cabin door. "comrades, gather closer and listen to my dying prayer. who will be to her as a brother, and shield her with a brother's care?" up spake the noble rangers, they answered one and all, "we will be to her as brothers till the last one does fall." one glad smile of pleasure o'er the ranger's face was spread; one dark, convulsive shadow, and the ranger boy was dead. far from his darling sister we laid him down to rest with his saddle for a pillow and his gun across his breast. the dying ranger (mus. not.) the sun was sink-ing in the west, and fell with lin-g'ring ray through the branches of the for-est,... where a wound-ed ran-ger lay; 'neath the shade of a pal-met-to ... and the sun-set sil-v'ry sky, far a-way from his home in tex-as,... they laid him down to die. the fair fannie moore yonder stands a cottage, all deserted and alone, its paths are neglected, with grass overgrown; go in and you will see some dark stains on the floor,-- alas! it is the blood of fair fannie moore. to fannie, so blooming, two lovers they came; one offered young fannie his wealth and his name; but neither his money nor pride could secure a place in the heart of fair fannie moore. the first was young randell, so bold and so proud, who to the fair fannie his haughty head bowed; but his wealth and his house both failed to allure the heart from the bosom of fair fannie moore. the next was young henry, of lowest degree. he won her fond love and enraptured was he; and then at the altar he quick did secure the hand with the heart of the fair fannie moore. as she was alone in her cottage one day, when business had called her fond husband away, young randell, the haughty, came in at the door and clasped in his arms the fair fannie moore. "o fannie, o fannie, reflect on your fate and accept of my offer before it's too late; for one thing to-night i am bound to secure,-- 'tis the love or the life of the fair fannie moore." "spare me, oh, spare me!" the young fannie cries, while the tears swiftly flow from her beautiful eyes; "oh, no!" cries young randell, "go home to your rest," and he buried his knife in her snowy white breast. so fannie, so blooming, in her bright beauty died; young randell, the haughty, was taken and tried; at length he was hung on a tree at the door, for shedding the blood of the fair fannie moore. young henry, the shepherd, distracted and wild, did wander away from his own native isle. till at length, claimed by death, he was brought to this shore and laid by the side of the fair fannie moore. hell in texas the devil, we're told, in hell was chained, and a thousand years he there remained; he never complained nor did he groan, but determined to start a hell of his own, where he could torment the souls of men without being chained in a prison pen. so he asked the lord if he had on hand anything left when he made the land. the lord said, "yes, i had plenty on hand, but i left it down on the rio grande; the fact is, old boy, the stuff is so poor i don't think you could use it in hell anymore." but the devil went down to look at the truck, and said if it came as a gift he was stuck; for after examining it carefully and well he concluded the place was too dry for hell. so, in order to get it off his hands, the lord promised the devil to water the lands; for he had some water, or rather some dregs, a regular cathartic that smelled like bad eggs. hence the deal was closed and the deed was given and the lord went back to his home in heaven. and the devil then said, "i have all that is needed to make a good hell," and hence he succeeded. he began to put thorns in all of the trees, and mixed up the sand with millions of fleas; and scattered tarantulas along all the roads; put thorns on the cactus and horns on the toads. he lengthened the horns of the texas steers, and put an addition on the rabbit's ears; he put a little devil in the broncho steed, and poisoned the feet of the centipede. the rattlesnake bites you, the scorpion stings, the mosquito delights you with buzzing wings; the sand-burrs prevail and so do the ants, and those who sit down need half-soles on their pants. the devil then said that throughout the land he'd managed to keep up the devil's own brand, and all would be mavericks unless they bore the marks of scratches and bites and thorns by the score. the heat in the summer is a hundred and ten, too hot for the devil and too hot for men. the wild boar roams through the black chaparral,-- it's a hell of a place he has for a hell. the red pepper grows on the banks of the brook; the mexicans use it in all that they cook. just dine with a greaser and then you will shout, "i've hell on the inside as well as the out!" by markentura's flowery marge by markentura's flowery marge the red chief's wigwam stood, before the white man's rifle rang, loud echoing through the wood; the tommy-hawk and scalping knife together lay at rest, and peace was in the forest shade and in the red man's breast. oh, the spotted fawn, oh, the spotted fawn, the life and light of the forest shade,-- the red chief's child is gone! by markentura's flowery marge the spotted fawn had birth and grew as fair an indian maid as ever graced the earth. she was the red chief's only child and sought by many a brave, but to the gallant young white cloud her plighted troth she gave. by markentura's flowery marge the bridal song arose, nor dreamed they in that festive night of near approaching woes; but through the forest stealthily the white man came in wrath. and fiery darts before them spread, and death was in their path. by markentura's flowery marge next morn no strife was seen, but a wail went up, for the young fawn's blood and white cloud's dyed the green. a burial in their own rude way the indians gave them there, and a low sweet requiem the brook sang and the air. oh, the spotted fawn, oh, the spotted fawn, the life and light of the forest shade,-- the red chief's child is gone! the state of arkansaw my name is stamford barnes, i come from nobleville town; i've traveled this wide world over, i've traveled this wide world round. i've met with ups and downs in life but better days i've saw, but i've never knew what misery were till i came to arkansaw. i landed in st. louis with ten dollars and no more; i read the daily papers till both my eyes were sore; i read them evening papers until at last i saw ten thousand men were wanted in the state of arkansaw. i wiped my eyes with great surprise when i read this grateful news, and straightway off i started to see the agent, billy hughes. he says, "pay me five dollars and a ticket to you i'll draw, it'll land you safe upon the railroad in the state of arkansaw." i started off one morning a quarter after five; i started from st. louis, half dead and half alive; i bought me a quart of whiskey my misery to thaw, i got as drunk as a biled owl when i left for old arkansaw. i landed in ft. smith one sultry sunday afternoon, it was in the month of may, the early month of june, up stepped a walking skeleton with a long and lantern jaw, invited me to his hotel, "the best in arkansaw." i followed my conductor into his dwelling place; poverty were depictured in his melancholy face. his bread it was corn dodger, his beef i could not chaw; this was the kind of hash they fed me in the state of arkansaw. i started off next morning to catch the morning train, he says to me, "you'd better work, for i have some land to drain. i'll pay you fifty cents a day, your board, washing, and all,-- you'll find yourself a different man when you leave old arkansaw." i worked six weeks for the son of a gun, jesse herring was his name, he was six foot seven in his stocking feet and taller than any crane; his hair hung down in strings over his long and lantern jaw,-- he was a photograph of all the gents who lived in arkansaw. he fed me on corn dodgers as hard as any rock, until my teeth began to loosen and my knees began to knock; i got so thin on sassafras tea i could hide behind a straw, and indeed i was a different man when i left old arkansaw. farewell to swamp angels, cane brakes, and chills; farewell to sage and sassafras and corn dodger pills. if ever i see this land again, i'll give to you my paw; it will be through a telescope from here to arkansaw. the texas cowboy oh, i am a texas cowboy, far away from home, if ever i get back to texas i never more will roam. montana is too cold for me and the winters are too long; before the round-ups do begin our money is all gone. take this old hen-skin bedding, too thin to keep me warm,-- i nearly freeze to death, my boys. whenever there's a storm. and take this old "tarpoleon," too thin to shield my frame,-- i got it down in nebraska a-dealin' a monte game. now to win these fancy leggins i'll have enough to do; they cost me twenty dollars the day that they were new. i have an outfit on the mussel shell, but that i'll never see, unless i get sent to represent the circle or d.t. i've worked down in nebraska where the grass grows ten feet high, and the cattle are such rustlers that they seldom ever die; i've worked up in the sand hills and down upon the platte, where the cowboys are good fellows and the cattle always fat; i've traveled lots of country,-- nebraska's hills of sand, down through the indian nation, and up the rio grande;-- but the bad lands of montana are the worst i ever seen, the cowboys are all tenderfeet and the dogies are too lean. if you want to see some bad lands, go over on the dry; you will bog down in the coulees where the mountains reach the sky. a tenderfoot to lead you who never knows the way, you are playing in the best of luck if you eat more than once a day. your grub is bread and bacon and coffee black as ink; the water is so full of alkali it is hardly fit to drink. they will wake you in the morning before the break of day, and send you on a circle a hundred miles away. all along the yellowstone 'tis cold the year around; you will surely get consumption by sleeping on the ground. work in montana is six months in the year; when all your bills are settled there is nothing left for beer. work down in texas is all the year around; you will never get consumption by sleeping on the ground. come all you texas cowboys and warning take from me, and do not go to montana to spend your money free. but stay at home in texas where work lasts the year around, and you will never catch consumption by sleeping on the ground. the dreary, dreary life a cowboy's life is a dreary, dreary life, some say it's free from care; rounding up the cattle from morning till night in the middle of the prairie so bare. half-past four, the noisy cook will roar, "whoop-a-whoop-a-hey!" slowly you will rise with sleepy-feeling eyes, the sweet, dreamy night passed away. the greener lad he thinks it's play, he'll soon peter out on a cold rainy day, with his big bell spurs and his spanish hoss, he'll swear to you he was once a boss. the cowboy's life is a dreary, dreary life, he's driven through the heat and cold; while the rich man's a-sleeping on his velvet couch, dreaming of his silver and gold. spring-time sets in, double trouble will begin, the weather is so fierce and cold; clothes are wet and frozen to our necks, the cattle we can scarcely hold. the cowboy's life is a dreary one, he works all day to the setting of the sun; and then his day's work is not done, for there's his night herd to go on. the wolves and owls with their terrifying howls will disturb us in our midnight dream, as we lie on our slickers on a cold, rainy night way over on the pecos stream. you are speaking of your farms, you are speaking of your charms, you are speaking of your silver and gold; but a cowboy's life is a dreary, dreary life, he's driven through the heat and cold. some folks say that we are free from care, free from all other harm; but we round up the cattle from morning till night way over on the prairie so dry. i used to run about, now i stay at home, take care of my wife and child; nevermore to roam, always stay at home, take care of my wife and child. half-past four the noisy cook will roar, "hurrah, boys! she's breaking day!" slowly we will rise and wipe our sleepy eyes, the sweet, dreamy night passed away. the dreary, dreary life (mus. not.) a cow-boy's life is a drear-y, drear-y life, some refrain.--half-past four the ... noi-sy cook will roar, say it's free from care; rounding up the "whoop-a-whoop-a-hey!" slow-ly you will cat-tle from morn-ing till night in the rise ... with sleep-y feel-ing eyes, the ... mid-dle of the prai-rie so ... bare, sweet, dream-y night passed a-way. jim farrow it's jim farrow and john farrow and little simon, too, have plenty of cattle where i have but few. marking and branding both night and day,-- it's "keep still, boys, my boys, and you'll all get your pay." it's up to the courthouse, the first thing they know, before the grand jury they'll have to go. they'll ask you about ear-marks, they'll ask you about brand, but tell them you were absent when the work was on hand. jim farrow brands j.f. on the side; the next comes johnnie who takes the whole hide; little simon, too has h. on the loin;-- all stand for farrow but it's not good for sime. you ask for the mark, i don't think it's fair, you'll find the cow's head but the ear isn't there it's a crop and a split and a sort of a twine,-- all stand for f. but it's not good for sime. "get up, my boys," jim farrow will say, "and out to horse hunting before it is day." so we get up and are out on the way but it's damn few horses we find before day. "now saddle your horses and out on the peaks to see if the heifers are out on the creeks." we'll round 'em to-day and we'll round 'em to-morrow, and this ends my song concerning the farrows. young charlottie young charlottie lived by a mountain side in a wild and lonely spot, there was no village for miles around except her father's cot; and yet on many a wintry night young boys would gather there,-- her father kept a social board, and she was very fair. one new year's eve as the sun went down, she cast a wistful eye out from the window pane as a merry sleigh went by. at a village fifteen miles away was to be a ball that night; although the air was piercing cold, her heart was merry and light. at last her laughing eye lit up as a well-known voice she heard, and dashing in front of the door her lover's sleigh appeared. "o daughter, dear," her mother said, "this blanket round you fold, 'tis such a dreadful night abroad and you will catch your death of cold." "oh no, oh no!" young charlottie cried, as she laughed like a gipsy queen, "to ride in blankets muffled up, i never would be seen. my silken coat is quite enough, you know it is lined throughout, and there is my silken scarf to wrap my head and neck about." her bonnet and her gloves were on, she jumped into the sleigh, and swiftly slid down the mountain side and over the hills away. all muffled up so silent, five miles at last were past when charlie with few but shivering words, the silence broke at last. "such a dreadful night i never saw, my reins i can scarcely hold." young charlottie then feebly said, "i am exceedingly cold." he cracked his whip and urged his speed much faster than before, while at least five other miles in silence had passed o'er. spoke charles, "how fast the freezing ice is gathering on my brow!" young charlottie then feebly said, "i'm growing warmer now." so on they sped through the frosty air and the glittering cold starlight until at last the village lights and the ball-room came in sight. they reached the door and charles sprang out and reached his hands to her. "why sit you there like a monument that has no power to stir?" he called her once, he called her twice, she answered not a word, and then he called her once again but still she never stirred. he took her hand in his; 'twas cold and hard as any stone. he tore the mantle from her face while cold stars on it shone. then quickly to the lighted hall her lifeless form he bore;-- young charlottie's eyes were closed forever, her voice was heard no more. and there he sat down by her side while bitter tears did flow, and cried, "my own, my charming bride, you nevermore shall know." he twined his arms around her neck and kissed her marble brow, and his thoughts flew back to where she said, "i'm growing warmer now." he took her back into the sleigh and quickly hurried home; when he arrived at her father's door, oh, how her friends did mourn; they mourned the loss of a daughter dear, while charles wept over the gloom, till at last he died with the bitter grief,--now they both lie in one tomb. the skew-ball black it was down to red river i came, prepared to play a damned tough game,-- whoa! skew, till i saddle you, whoa! i crossed the river to the ranch where i intended to work, with a big six-shooter and a derned good dirk,-- whoa! skew, till i saddle you, whoa! they roped me out a skew-ball black with a double set-fast on his back,-- whoa! skew, till i saddle you, whoa! and when i was mounted on his back, the boys all yelled, "just give him slack,"-- whoa! skew, till i saddle you, whoa! they rolled and tumbled and yelled, by god, for he threw me a-whirling all over the sod,-- whoa! skew, till i saddle you, whoa! i went to the boss and i told him i'd resign, the fool tumbled over, and i thought he was dyin',-- whoa! skew, till i saddle you, whoa! and it's to arkansaw i'll go back, to hell with texas and the skew-ball black,-- whoa! skew, till i saddle you, whoa! the rambling cowboy there was a rich old rancher who lived in the country by, he had a lovely daughter on whom i cast my eye; she was pretty, tall, and handsome, both neat and very fair, there's no other girl in the country with her i could compare. i asked her if she would be willing for me to cross the plains; she said she would be truthful until i returned again; she said she would be faithful until death did prove unkind, so we kissed, shook hands, and parted, and i left my girl behind. i left the state of texas, for arizona i was bound; i landed in tombstone city, i viewed the place all round. money and work were plentiful and the cowboys they were kind but the only thought of my heart was the girl i left behind. one day as i was riding across the public square the mail-coach came in and i met the driver there; he handed me a letter which gave me to understand that the girl i left in texas had married another man. i turned myself all round and about not knowing what to do, but i read on down some further and it proved the words were true. hard work i have laid over, it's gambling i have designed. i'll ramble this wide world over for the girl i left behind. come all you reckless and rambling boys who have listened to this song, if it hasn't done you any good, it hasn't done you any wrong; but when you court a pretty girl, just marry her while you can, for if you go across the plains she'll marry another man. the cowboy at church some time ago,--two weeks or more if i remember well,-- i found myself in town and thought i'd knock around a spell, when all at once i heard the bell,-- i didn't know 'twas sunday,-- for on the plains we scarcely know a sunday from a monday,-- a-calling all the people from the highways and the hedges and all the reckless throng that tread ruin's ragged edges, to come and hear the pastor tell salvation's touching story, and how the new road misses hell and leads you straight to glory. i started by the chapel door, but something urged me in, and told me not to spend god's day in revelry and sin. i don't go much on sentiment, but tears came in my eyes. it seemed just like my mother's voice was speaking from the skies. i thought how often she had gone with little sis and me to church, when i was but a lad way back in tennessee. it never once occurred to me about not being dressed in sunday rig, but carelessly i went in with the rest. you should have seen the smiles and shrugs as i went walking in, as though they thought my leggins worse than any kind of sin; although the honest parson, in his vestry garb arrayed was dressed the same as i was,-- in the trappings of his trade. the good man prayed for all the world and all its motley crew, for pagan, hindoo, sinners, turk, and unbelieving jew,-- though the congregation doubtless thought that the cowboys as a race were a kind of moral outlaw with no good claim to grace. is it very strange that cowboys are a rough and reckless crew when their garb forbids their doing right as christian people do? that they frequent scenes of revelry where death is bought and sold, where at least they get a welcome though it's prompted by their gold? stranger, did it ever strike you, when the winter days are gone and the mortal grass is springing up to meet the judgment sun, and we 'tend mighty round-ups where, according to the word, the angel cowboy of the lord will cut the human herd,-- that a heap of stock that's lowing now around the master's pen and feeding at his fodder stack will have the brand picked then? and brands that when the hair was long looked like the letter c, will prove to be the devil's, and the brand the letter d; while many a long-horned coaster,-- i mean, just so to speak,-- that hasn't had the advantage of the range and gospel creek will get to crop the grasses in the pasture of the lord if the letter c showed up beneath the devil's checker board. the u. s. a. recruit now list to my song, it will not take me long, and in some things with me you'll agree; a young man so green came in from moline, and enlisted a soldier to be. he had lots of pluck, on himself he was stuck, in his government straights he looked "boss," and he chewed enough beans for a hoss. he was a rookey, so flukey, he was a jim dandy you all will agree, he said without fear, "before i'm a year in the army, great changes you'll see." he was a stone thrower, a foam blower, he was a loo loo you bet, he stood on his head and these words gently said, "i'll be second george washington yet." at his post he did land, they took him in hand, the old bucks they all gathered 'round, saying "give us your fist; where did you enlist? you'll take on again i'll be bound; i've a blanket to sell, it will fit you quite well, i'll sell you the whole or a piece. i've a dress coat to trade, or a helmet unmade, it will do you for kitchen police." then the top said, "my son, here is a gun, just heel ball that musket up bright. in a few days or more you'll be rolling in gore, a-chasing wild goo goos to flight. there'll be fighting, you see, and blood flowing free, we'll send you right on to the front; and never you fear, if you're wounded, my dear, you'll be pensioned eight dollars per month." he was worried so bad, he blew in all he had; he went on a drunk with goodwill. and the top did report, "one private short." when he showed up he went to the mill. the proceedings we find were a ten dollar blind, ten dollars less to blow foam. this was long years ago, and this rookey you know is now in the old soldiers' home. the cowgirl my love is a rider and broncos he breaks, but he's given up riding and all for my sake; for he found him a horse and it suited him so he vowed he'd ne'er ride any other bronco. my love has a gun, and that gun he can use, but he's quit his gun fighting as well as his booze; and he's sold him his saddle, his spurs, and his rope, and there's no more cow punching, and that's what i hope. my love has a gun that has gone to the bad, which makes poor old jimmy feel pretty damn sad; for the gun it shoots high and the gun it shoots low, and it wobbles about like a bucking bronco. the cook is an unfortunate son of a gun; he has to be up e'er the rise of the sun; his language is awful, his curses are deep,-- he is like cascarets, for he works while you sleep. the shanty boy i am a jolly shanty boy, as you will soon discover. to all the dodges i am fly, a hustling pine woods rover. a peavy hook it is my pride, an ax i well can handle; to fell a tree or punch a bull get rattling danny randall. bung yer eye: bung yer eye. i love a girl in saginaw; she lives with her mother; i defy all michigan to find such another. she's tall and fat, her hair is red, her face is plump and pretty, she's my daisy, sunday-best-day girl,-- and her front name stands for kitty. bung yer eye: bung yer eye. i took her to a dance one night, a mossback gave the bidding; silver jack bossed the shebang and big dan played the fiddle. we danced and drank, the livelong night. with fights between the dancing-- till silver jack cleaned out the ranch and sent the mossbacks prancing. bung yer eye: bung yer eye. root hog or die when i was a young man i lived on the square, i never had any pocket change and i hardly thought it fair; so out on the crosses i went to rob and to steal, and when i met a peddler oh, how happy i did feel. one morning, one morning, one morning in may i seen a man a-coming, a little bit far away; i seen a man a-coming, come riding up to me "come here, come here, young fellow, i'm after you to-day." he taken me to the new jail, he taken me to the new jail, and i had to walk right in. there all my friends went back on me and also my kin. i had an old rich uncle, who lived in the west, he heard of my misfortune, it wouldn't let him rest; he came to see me, he paid my bills and score,-- i have been a bad boy, i'll do so no more. there's minnie and alice and lucy likewise, they heard of my misfortune brought tears to their eyes. i've told 'em my condition, i've told it o'er and o'er; so i've been a bad boy, i'll do so no more. i will go to east texas to marry me a wife, and try to maintain her the balance of my life; i'll try to maintain; i'll lay it up in store i've been a bad boy, i'll do so no more. young man, you robber, you had better take it fair, leave off your marshal killing and live on the square; should you meet the marshal, just pass him by; and travel on the muscular, for it's root hog or die. when i drew my money i drew it all in cash and off to see my susan, you bet i cut a dash; i spent my money freely and went it on a bum, and i love the pretty women and am bound to have my fun. i used to sport a white hat, a horse and buggy fine, courted a pretty girl and always called her mine; but all my courtships proved to be in vain, for they sent me down to huntsville to wear the ball and chain. along came my true love, about twelve o'clock, saying, "henry, o henry, what sentence have you got?" the jury found me guilty, the judge would allow no stay, so they sent me down to huntsville to wear my life away. root hog or die (mus. not.) when i was a young man i lived up-on the square, i nev-er had a-ny pock-et change and i hard-ly thought it fair, but out up-on the highway i went to rob and to steal, and when i met a ped-dler, oh, how hap-py i did feel. sweet betsy from pike "a california immigrant song of the fifties" oh, don't you remember sweet betsy from pike who crossed the big mountains with her lover ike, and two yoke of cattle, a large yellow dog, a tall, shanghai rooster, and one spotted hog? saying, good-bye, pike county, farewell for a while; we'll come back again when we've panned out our pile. one evening quite early they camped on the platte, 'twas near by the road on a green shady flat; where betsy, quite tired, lay down to repose, while with wonder ike gazed on his pike county rose. they soon reached the desert, where betsy gave out, and down in the sand she lay rolling about; while ike in great terror looked on in surprise, saying "betsy, get up, you'll get sand in your eyes." saying, good-bye, pike county, farewell for a while; i'd go back to-night if it was but a mile. sweet betsy got up in a great deal of pain and declared she'd go back to pike county again; then ike heaved a sigh and they fondly embraced, and she traveled along with his arm around her waist. the wagon tipped over with a terrible crash, and out on the prairie rolled all sorts of trash; a few little baby clothes done up with care looked rather suspicious,--though 'twas all on the square. the shanghai ran off and the cattle all died, the last piece of bacon that morning was fried; poor ike got discouraged, and betsy got mad, the dog wagged his tail and looked wonderfully sad. one morning they climbed up a very high hill, and with wonder looked down into old placerville; ike shouted and said, as he cast his eyes down, "sweet betsy, my darling, we've got to hangtown." long ike and sweet betsy attended a dance, where ike wore a pair of his pike county pants; sweet betsy was covered with ribbons and rings. quoth ike, "you're an angel, but where are your wings?" a miner said, "betsy, will you dance with me?" "i will that, old hoss, if you don't make too free; but don't dance me hard. do you want to know why? dog on ye, i'm chock full of strong alkali." long ike and sweet betsy got married of course, but ike getting jealous obtained a divorce; and betsy, well satisfied, said with a shout, "good-bye, you big lummax, i'm glad you backed out." saying, good-bye, dear isaac, farewell for a while, but come back in time to replenish my pile. the disheartened ranger come listen to a ranger, you kind-hearted stranger, this song, though a sad one, you're welcome to hear; we've kept the comanches away from your ranches, and followed them far o'er the texas frontier. we're weary of scouting, of traveling, and routing the blood-thirsty villains o'er prairie and wood; no rest for the sinner, no breakfast or dinner, but he lies in a supperless bed in the mud. no corn nor potatoes, no bread nor tomatoes, but jerked beef as dry as the sole of your shoe; all day without drinking, all night without winking, i'll tell you, kind stranger, this never will do. those great alligators, the state legislators, are puffing and blowing two-thirds of their time, but windy orations about rangers and rations never put in our pockets one-tenth of a dime. they do not regard us, they will not reward us, though hungry and haggard with holes in our coats; but the election is coming and they will be drumming and praising our valor to purchase our votes. for glory and payment, for vittles and raiment, no longer we'll fight on the texas frontier. so guard your own ranches, and mind the comanches or surely they'll scalp you in less than a year. though sore it may grieve you, the rangers must leave you exposed to the arrows and knife of the foe; so herd your own cattle and fight your own battle, for home to the states i'm determined to go,-- where churches have steeples and laws are more equal, where houses have people and ladies are kind; where work is regarded and worth is rewarded; where pumpkins are plenty and pockets are lined. your wives and your daughters we have guarded from slaughter, through conflicts and struggles i shudder to tell; no more well defend them, to god we'll commend them. to the frontier of texas we bid a farewell. the melancholy cowboy come all you melancholy folks and listen unto me, i will sing you about the cowboy whose heart's so light and free; he roves all over the prairie and at night when he lays down his heart's as gay as the flowers of may with his bed spread on the ground. they are a little bit rough, i must confess, the most of them at least; but as long as you do not cross their trail, you can live with them in peace. but if you do, they're sure to rule, the day you come to their land, for they'll follow you up and shoot it out, they'll do it man to man. you can go to a cowboy hungry, go to him wet or dry, and ask him for a few dollars in change and he will not deny; he will pull out his pocket-book and hand you out a note,-- oh, they are the fellows to strike, boys, whenever you are broke. you can go to their ranches and often stay for weeks, and when you go to leave, boys, they'll never charge you a cent; but when they go to town, boys, you bet their money is spent. they walk right up, they take their drinks and they pay for every one. they never ask your pardon, boys, for a thing that they have done. they go to the ball-room, and swing the pretty girls around; they ride their bucking broncos, and wear their broad-brimmed hats; their california saddles, their pants below their boots, you can hear their spurs go jing-a-ling, or perhaps somebody shoots. come all you soft and tenderfeet, if you want to have some fun, come go among the cowboys and they'll show you how it's done; but take the kind advice of me as i gave it to you before, for if you don't, they'll order you off with an old colt's forty-four. bob stanford bob stanford, he's a texas boy, he lives down on the flat; his trade is running a well-drill, but he's none the worse for that. he is neither rich nor handsome, but, unlike the city dude, his manners they are pleasant instead of flip and rude. his people live in texas, that is his native home, but like many other western lads he drifted off from home. he came out to new mexico a fortune for to make, he punched the bottom out of the earth and never made a stake. so he came to arizona and again set up his drill to punch a hole for water, and he's punching at it still. he says he is determined to make the business stick or spend that derned old well machine and all he can get on tick. i hope he is successful and i'll help him if i can, for i admire pluck and ambition in an honest working man. so keep on going down, punch the bottom out, or try, there is nothing in a hole in the ground that continues being dry. charlie rutlage another good cow-puncher has gone to meet his fate, i hope he'll find a resting place within the golden gate. another place is vacant on the ranch of the x i t, 'twill be hard to find another that's liked as well as he. the first that died was kid white, a man both tough and brave, while charlie rutlage makes the third to be sent to his grave, caused by a cow-horse falling while running after stock; 'twas on the spring round-up,--a place where death men mock. he went forward one morning on a circle through the hills, he was gay and full of glee, and free from earthly ills; but when it came to finish up the work on which he went, nothing came back from him; for his time on earth was spent. 'twas as he rode the round-up, an x i t turned back to the herd; poor charlie shoved him in again, his cutting horse he spurred; another turned; at that moment his horse the creature spied and turned and fell with him, and beneath, poor charlie died. his relations in texas his face never more will see, but i hope he will meet his loved ones beyond in eternity. i hope he will meet his parents, will meet them face to face, and that they will grasp him by the right hand at the shining throne of grace. the range riders come all you range riders and listen to me, i will relate you a story of the saddest degree, i will relate you a story of the deepest distress,-- i love my poor lulu, boys, of all girls the best. when you are out riding, boys, upon the highway, meet a fair damsel, a lady so gay, with her red, rosy cheeks and her sparkling dark eyes, just think of my lulu, boys, and your bosoms will rise. while you live single, boys, you are just in your prime; you have no wife to scold, you have nothing to bother your minds; you can roam this world over and do just as you will, hug and kiss the pretty girls and be your own still. but when you get married, boys, you are done with this life, you have sold your sweet comfort for to gain you a wife; your wife she will scold you, and the children will cry, it will make those fair faces look withered and dry. you can scarcely step aside, boys, to speak to a friend but your wife is at your elbow saying what do you mean. with her nose turned upon you it will look like sad news,-- i advise you by experience that life to refuse. come fill up your bottles, boys, drink bourbon around; here is luck to the single wherever they are found. here is luck to the single and i wish them success, likewise to the married ones, i wish them no less. i have one more request to make, boys, before we part. never place your affection on a charming sweetheart. she is dancing before you your affections to gain; just turn your back on them with scorn and disdain. her white bosom bare the sun had gone down o'er the hills of the west, and the last beams had faded o'er the mossy hill's crest, o'er the beauties of nature and the charms of the fair, and amanda was bound with her white bosom bare. at the foot of the mountain amanda did sigh at the hoot of an owl or the catamount's cry; or the howl of some wolf in its low, granite cell, or the crash of some large forest tree as it fell. amanda was there all friendless and forlorn with her face bathed in blood and her garments all torn. the sunlight had faded o'er the hills of the green, and fierce was the look of the wild, savage scene. for it was out in the forest where the wild game springs, where low in the branches the rude hammock swings; the campfire was kindled, well fanned by the breeze, and the light of the campfire shone round on the trees. the campfire was kindled, well fanned by the breeze, and the light of the fire shone round on the trees; and grim stood the circle of the warrior throng, impatient to join in the war-dance and song. the campfire was kindled, each warrior was there, and amanda was bound with her white bosom bare. she counted the vengeance in the face of her foes and sighed for the moment when her sufferings might close. young albon, he gazed on the face of the fair while her dark hazel eyes were uplifted in prayer; and her dark waving tresses in ringlets did flow which hid from the gazer a bosom of snow. then young albon, the chief of the warriors, drew near, with an eye like an eagle and a step like a deer. "forbear," cried he, "your torture forbear; this maiden shall live. by my wampum i swear. "it is for this maiden's freedom that i do crave; give a sigh for her suffering or a tear for her grave. if there is a victim to be burned at that tree, young albon, your leader, that victim shall be." then quick to the arms of amanda he rushed; the rebel was dead, and the tumult was hushed; and grim stood the circle of warriors around while the cords of amanda young albon unbound. so it was early next morning the red, white, and blue went gliding o'er the waters in a small birch canoe; just like the white swan that glides o'er the tide, young albon and amanda o'er the waters did ride. o'er the blue, bubbling water, neath the evergreen trees, young albon and amanda did ride at their ease; and great was the joy when she stepped on the shore to embrace her dear father and mother once more. young albon, he stood and enjoyed their embrace, with a sigh in his heart and a tear on his face; and all that he asked was kindness and food from the parents of amanda to the chief of the woods. young amanda is home now, as you all know, enjoying the friends of her own native shore; nevermore will she roam o'er the hills or the plains; she praises the chief that loosened her chains. juan murray my name is juan murray, and hard for my fate, i was born and raised in texas, that good old lone star state. i have been to many a round-up, boys, have worked on the trail, have stood many a long old guard through the rain, yes, sleet, and hail; i have rode the texas broncos that pitched from morning till noon, and have seen many a storm, boys, between sunrise, yes, and noon. i am a jolly cowboy and have roamed all over the west, and among the bronco riders i rank among the best. but when i left old midland, with voice right then i spoke,-- "i never will see you again until the day i croak." but since i left old texas so many sights i have saw a-traveling from my native state way out to mexico,-- i am looking all around me and cannot help but smile to see my nearest neighbors all in the mexican style. i left my home in texas to dodge the ball and chain. in the state of sonora i will forever remain. farewell to my mother, my friends that are so dear, i would like to see you all again, my lonesome heart to cheer. i have a word to speak, boys, only another to say,-- don't never be a cow-thief, don't never ride a stray; be careful of your line, boys, and keep it on your tree,-- just suit yourself about it, for it is nothing to me. but if you start to rustling you will come to some sad fate, you will have to go to prison and work for the state. don't think that i am lying and trying to tell a joke, for the writer has experienced just every word he's spoke. it is better to be honest and let other's stock alone than to leave your native country and seek a mexican home. for if you start to rustling you will surely come to see the state of sonora,--be an outcast just like me. greer county tom hight is my name, an old bachelor i am, you'll find me out west in the country of fame, you'll find me out west on an elegant plain, and starving to death on my government claim. hurrah for greer county! the land of the free, the land of the bed-bug, grass-hopper and flea; i'll sing of its praises and tell of its fame, while starving to death on my government claim. my house is built of natural sod, its walls are erected according to hod; its roof has no pitch but is level and plain, i always get wet if it happens to rain. how happy am i on my government claim, i've nothing to lose, and nothing to gain; i've nothing to eat, i've nothing to wear,-- from nothing to nothing is the hardest fare. how happy am i when i crawl into bed,-- a rattlesnake hisses a tune at my head, a gay little centipede, all without fear, crawls over my pillow and into my ear. now all you claim holders, i hope you will stay and chew your hard tack till you're toothless and gray; but for myself, i'll no longer remain to starve like a dog on my government claim. my clothes are all ragged as my language is rough, my bread is corn dodgers, both solid and tough; but yet i am happy, and live at my ease on sorghum molasses, bacon, and cheese. good-bye to greer county where blizzards arise, where the sun never sinks and a flea never dies, and the wind never ceases but always remains till it starves us all out on our government claims. farewell to greer county, farewell to the west, i'll travel back east to the girl i love best, i'll travel back to texas and marry me a wife, and quit corn bread for the rest of my life. rosin the bow i live for the good of my nation and my sons are all growing low, but i hope that my next generation will resemble old rosin the bow. i have traveled this wide world all over, and now to another i'll go, for i know that good quarters are waiting to welcome old rosin the bow. the gay round of delights i have traveled, nor will i behind leave a woe, for while my companions are jovial they'll drink to old rosin the bow. this life now is drawn to a closing, all will at last be so, then we'll take a full bumper at parting to the name of old rosin the bow. when i am laid out on the counter, and the people all anxious to know, just raise up the lid of the coffin and look at old rosin the bow. and when through the streets my friends bear me, and the ladies are filled with deep woe, they'll come to the doors and the windows and sigh for old rosin the bow. then get some fine, jovial fellows, and let them all staggering go; then dig a deep hole in the meadow and in it toss rosin the bow. then get a couple of dornicks, place one at my head and my toe, and do not forget to scratch on them, "here lies old rosin the bow." then let those same jovial fellows surround my lone grave in a row, while they drink from my favorite bottle the health of old rosin the bow. the great round-up when i think of the last great round-up on the eve of eternity's dawn, i think of the past of the cowboys who have been with us here and are gone. and i wonder if any will greet me on the sands of the evergreen shore with a hearty, "god bless you, old fellow," that i've met with so often before. i think of the big-hearted fellows who will divide with you blanket and bread, with a piece of stray beef well roasted, and charge for it never a red. i often look upward and wonder if the green fields will seem half so fair, if any the wrong trail have taken and fail to "be in" over there. for the trail that leads down to perdition is paved all the way with good deeds, but in the great round-up of ages, dear boys, this won't answer your needs. but the way to the green pastures, though narrow, leads straight to the home in the sky, and jesus will give you the passports to the land of the sweet by and by. for the savior has taken the contract to deliver all those who believe, at the headquarters ranch of his father, in the great range where none can deceive. the inspector will stand at the gateway and the herd, one by one, will go by,-- the round-up by the angels in judgment must pass 'neath his all-seeing eye. no maverick or slick will be tallied in the great book of life in his home, for he knows all the brands and the earmarks that down through the ages have come. but, along with the tailings and sleepers, the strays must turn from the gate; no road brand to gain them admission, but the awful sad cry "too late." yet i trust in the last great round-up when the rider shall cut the big herd, that the cowboys shall be represented in the earmark and brand of the lord, to be shipped to the bright, mystic regions over there in green pastures to lie, and led by the crystal still waters in that home of the sweet by and by. the jolly cowboy my lover, he is a cowboy, he's brave and kind and true, he rides a spanish pony, he throws a lasso, too; and when he comes to see me our vows we do redeem, he throws his arms around me and thus begins to sing: "ho, i'm a jolly cowboy, from texas now i hail, give me my quirt and pony, i'm ready for the trail; i love the rolling prairies, they're free from care and strife, behind a herd of longhorns i'll journey all my life. "when early dawn is breaking and we are far away, we fall into our saddles, we round-up all the day; we rope, we brand, we ear-mark, i tell you we are smart, and when the herd is ready, for kansas then we start. "oh, i am a texas cowboy, lighthearted, brave, and free, to roam the wide, wide prairie, 'tis always joy to me. my trusty little pony is my companion true, o'er creeks and hills and rivers he's sure to pull me through. "when threatening clouds do gather and herded lightnings flash, and heavy rain drops splatter, and rolling thunders crash; what keeps the herd from running, stampeding far and wide? the cowboy's long, low whistle and singing by their side. "when in kansas city, our boss he pays us up, we loaf around the city and take a parting cup; we bid farewell to city life, from noisy crowds we come, and back to dear old texas, the cowboy's native home." oh, he is coming back to marry the only girl he loves, he says i am his darling, i am his own true love; some day we two will marry and then no more he'll roam, but settle down with mary in a cozy little home. "ho, i'm a jolly cowboy, from texas now i hail, give me my bond to mary, i'll quit the lone star trail. i love the rolling prairies, they're free from care and strife, but i'll quit the herd of longhorns for the sake of my little wife." the texas cowboy (mus. not.) mrs. robert thomson i am a tex-as cowboy, light-hearted, gay and free, to roam the wide, wide prairie, is always joy to me; my trust-y lit-tle po-ny is my com-pan-ion true; o'er plain, thro' woods and river, he's sure to "pull me thro." chorus _allegro_ i am a jol-ly cow-boy, from tex-as now i hail, give me my "quirt" and po-ny, i'm read-y for the "trail;" i love the roll-ing prairie, we're free from care and strife, be-hind a herd of "long-horns" i'll journey all my life. the convict when slumbering in my convict cell my childhood days i see, when i was mother's little child and knelt at mother's knee. there my life was peace, i know, i knew no sorrow or pain. mother dear never did think, i know, i would wear a felon's chain. clink, clink, clink, clink, clink, ah, don't you hear the clinking of my chain? clink, clink, clink, clink, clink, ah, don't you hear the clinking of my chain? when i had grown to manhood and evil paths i trod, i learned to scorn my fellow-man and even curse my god; and in the evil course i ran for a great length of time till at last i ran too long and was condemned for a felon's crime. my prison life will soon be o'er, my life will soon be gone,-- may the angels waft it heavenward to a bright and happy home. i'll be at rest, sweet, sweet rest, there is rest in the heavenly home; i'll be at rest, sweet, sweet rest, there is rest in the heavenly home. clink, clink, clink, clink, clink, ah, don't you hear the clinking of my chain? clink, clink, clink, clink, clink, ah, don't you hear the clinking of my chain? jack o' diamonds o mollie, o mollie, it is for your sake alone that i leave my old parents, my house and my home, that i leave my old parents, you caused me to roam,-- i am a rabble soldier and dixie is my home. jack o' diamonds, jack o' diamonds, i know you of old, you've robbed my poor pockets of silver and gold. whiskey, you villain, you've been my downfall, you've kicked me, you've cuffed me, but i love you for all. my foot's in my stirrup, my bridle's in my hand, i'm going to leave sweet mollie, the fairest in the land. her parents don't like me, they say i'm too poor, they say i'm unworthy to enter her door. they say i drink whiskey; my money is my own, and them that don't like me can leave me alone. i'll eat when i'm hungry, i'll drink when i'm dry, and when i get thirsty i'll lay down and cry. it's beefsteak when i'm hungry, and whiskey when i'm dry, greenbacks when i'm hard up, and heaven when i die. rye whiskey, rye whiskey, rye whiskey i cry, if i don't get rye whiskey, i surely will die. o baby, o baby, i've told you before, do make me a pallet, i'll lie on the floor. i will build me a big castle on yonder mountain high, where my true love can see me when she comes riding by, where my true love can see me and help me to mourn,-- i am a rabble soldier and dixie is my home. i'll get up in my saddle, my quirt i'll take in hand, i'll think of you, mollie, when in some far distant land, i'll think of you, mollie, you caused me to roam,-- i am a rabble soldier and dixie is my home. if the ocean was whiskey, and i was a duck, i'd dive to the bottom to get one sweet sup; but the ocean ain't whiskey, and i ain't a duck, so i'll play jack o' diamonds and then we'll get drunk. o baby, o baby, i've told you before, do make me a pallet, i'll lie on the floor. i've rambled and trambled this wide world around, but it's for the rabble army, dear mollie, i'm bound, it is to the rabble army, dear mollie, i roam,-- i am a rabble soldier and dixie is my home. i have rambled and gambled all my money away, but it's with the rabble army, o mollie, i must stay, it is with the rabble army, o mollie i must roam,-- i am a rabble soldier and dixie is my home. jack o' diamonds, jack o' diamonds, i know you of old, you've robbed my poor pockets of silver and gold. rye whiskey, rye whiskey, rye whiskey i cry, if you don't give me rye whiskey i'll lie down and die. o baby, o baby, i've told you before, do make me a pallet, i'll lie on the floor. jack o' diamonds (mus. not.) o mol-lie, o mol-lie, it's for your sake a-lone that i leave my old pa-rents, my house and my home; that i leave my old pa-rents, you caused me to roam-- i am a rab-ble sol-dier, and dix-ie is my home. repeat from first for refrain the cowboy's meditation at midnight when the cattle are sleeping on my saddle i pillow my head, and up at the heavens lie peeping from out of my cold, grassy bed,-- often and often i wondered at night when lying alone if every bright star up yonder is a big peopled world like our own. are they worlds with their ranges and ranches? do they ring with rough rider refrains? do the cowboys scrap there with comanches and other red men of the plains? are the hills covered over with cattle in those mystic worlds far, far away? do the ranch-houses ring with the prattle of sweet little children at play? at night in the bright stars up yonder do the cowboys lie down to their rest? do they gaze at this old world and wonder if rough riders dash over its breast? do they list to the wolves in the canyons? do they watch the night owl in its flight, with their horse their only companion while guarding the herd through the night? sometimes when a bright star is twinkling like a diamond set in the sky, i find myself lying and thinking, it may be god's heaven is nigh. i wonder if there i shall meet her, my mother whom god took away; if in the star-heavens i'll greet her at the round-up that's on the last day. in the east the great daylight is breaking and into my saddle i spring; the cattle from sleep are awakening, the heaven-thoughts from me take wing, the eyes of my bronco are flashing, impatient he pulls at the reins, and off round the herd i go dashing, a reckless cowboy of the plains. billy venero billy venero heard them say, in an arizona town one day. that a band of apache indians were upon the trail of death; heard them tell of murder done, three men killed at rocky run, "they're in danger at the cow-ranch," said venero, under breath. cow-ranch, forty miles away, was a little place that lay in a deep and shady valley of the mighty wilderness; half a score of homes were there, and in one a maiden fair held the heart of billy venero, billy venero's little bess. so no wonder he grew pale when he heard the cowboy's tale of the men that he'd seen murdered the day before at rocky run. "sure as there's a god above, i will save the girl i love; by my love for little bessie i will see that something's done." not a moment he delayed when his brave resolve was made. "why man," his comrades told him when they heard of his daring plan, "you are riding straight to death." but he answered, "save your breath; i may never reach the cow-ranch but i'll do the best i can." as he crossed the alkali all his thoughts flew on ahead to the little band at cow-ranch thinking not of danger near; with his quirt's unceasing whirl and the jingle of his spurs little brown chapo bore the cowboy o'er the far away frontier. lower and lower sank the sun; he drew rein at rocky run; "here those men met death, my chapo," and he stroked his glossy mane; "so shall those we go to warn ere the coming of the morn if we fail,--god help my bessie," and he started on again. sharp and clear a rifle shot woke the echoes of the spot. "i am wounded," cried venero, as he swayed from side to side; "while there's life there's always hope; slowly onward i will lope,-- if i fail to reach the cow-ranch, bessie lee shall know i tried. "i will save her yet," he cried, "bessie lee shall know i tried," and for her sake then he halted in the shadow of a hill; from his chapareras he took with weak hands a little book; tore a blank leaf from its pages saying, "this shall be my will." from a limb a pen he broke, and he dipped his pen of oak in the warm blood that was spurting from a wound above his heart. "rouse," he wrote before too late; "apache warriors lie in wait. good-bye, bess, god bless you darling," and he felt the cold tears start. then he made his message fast, love's first message and its last, to the saddle horn he tied it and his lips were white with pain, "take this message, if not me, straight to little bessie lee;" then he tied himself to the saddle, and he gave his horse the rein. just at dusk a horse of brown wet with sweat came panting down the little lane at the cow-ranch, stopped in front of bessie's door; but the cowboy was asleep, and his slumbers were so deep, little bess could never wake him though she tried for evermore. you have heard the story told by the young and by the old, away down yonder at the cow-ranch the night the apaches came; of that sharp and bloody fight, how the chief fell in the fight and the panic-stricken warriors when they heard venero's name. and the heavens and earth between keep a little flower so green that little bess had planted ere they laid her by his side. dogie song the cow-bosses are good-hearted chunks, some short, some heavy, more long; but don't matter what he looks like, they all sing the same old song. on the plains, in the mountains, in the valleys, in the south where the days are long, the bosses are different fellows; still they sing the same old song. "sift along, boys, don't ride so slow; haven't got much time but a long round to go. quirt him in the shoulders and rake him down the hip; i've cut you toppy mounts, boys, now pair off and rip. bunch the herd at the old meet, then beat 'em on the tail; whip 'em up and down the sides and hit the shortest trail." the boozer i'm a howler from the prairies of the west. if you want to die with terror, look at me. i'm chain-lightning--if i ain't, may i be blessed. i'm the snorter of the boundless prairie. he's a killer and a hater! he's the great annihilator! he's a terror of the boundless prairie. i'm the snoozer from the upper trail! i'm the reveler in murder and in gore! i can bust more pullman coaches on the rail than anyone who's worked the job before. he's a snorter and a snoozer. he's the great trunk line abuser. he's the man who puts the sleeper on the rail. i'm the double-jawed hyena from the east. i'm the blazing, bloody blizzard of the states. i'm the celebrated slugger; i'm the beast. i can snatch a man bald-headed while he waits. he's a double-jawed hyena! he's the villain of the scena! he can snatch a man bald-headed while he waits. drinking song drink that rot gut, drink that rot gut, drink that red eye, boys; it don't make a damn wherever we land, we hit her up for joy. we've lived in the saddle and ridden trail, drink old jordan, boys, we'll go whooping and yelling, we'll all go a-helling; drink her to our joy. whoop-ee! drink that rot gut, drink that red nose, whenever you get to town; drink it straight and swig it mighty, till the world goes round and round! a fragment i'd rather hear a rattler rattle, i'd rather buck stampeding cattle, i'd rather go to a greaser battle, than-- than to-- than to fight-- than to fight the bloody in-ji-ans. i'd rather eat a pan of dope, i'd rather ride without a rope, i'd rather from this country lope, than-- than to-- than to fight-- than to fight the bloody in-ji-ans. a man named hods come, all you old cowpunchers, a story i will tell, and if you'll all be quiet, i sure will sing it well; and if you boys don't like it, you sure can go to hell. back in the day when i was young, i knew a man named hods; he wasn't fit fer nothin' 'cep turnin' up the clods. but he came west in fifty-three, behind a pair of mules, and 'twas hard to tell between the three which was the biggest fools. up on the plains old hods he got and there his trouble began. oh, he sure did get in trouble,--and old hodsie wasn't no man. he met a bunch of indian bucks led by geronimo, and what them indians did to him, well, shorely i don't know. but they lifted off old hodsie's skelp and left him out to die, and if it hadn't been for me, he'd been in the sweet by and by. but i packed him back to santa fé and there i found his mules, for them dad-blamed two critters had got the indians fooled. i don't know how they done it, but they shore did get away, and them two mules is livin' up to this very day. old hodsie's feet got toughened up, he got to be a sport, he opened up a gamblin' house and a place of low resort; he got the prettiest dancing girls that ever could be found,-- them girls' feet was like rubber balls and they never staid on the ground. and then thar came billy the kid, he envied hodsie's wealth, he told old hods to leave the town, 'twould be better for his health; old hodsie took the hint and got, but he carried all his wealth. and he went back to noo york state with lots of dinero, and now they say he's senator, but of that i shore don't know. a fragment i am fur from my sweetheart and she is fur from me, and when i'll see my sweetheart i can't tell when 'twill be. but i love her just the same, no matter where i roam; and that there girl will wait fur me whenever i come home. i've roamed the texas prairies, i've followed the cattle trail, i've rid a pitching pony till the hair came off his tail. i've been to cowboy dances, i've kissed the texas girls, but they ain't none what can compare with my own sweetheart's curls. the lone star trail i'm a rowdy cowboy just off the stormy plains, my trade is girting saddles and pulling bridle reins. oh, i can tip the lasso, it is with graceful ease; i rope a streak of lightning, and ride it where i please. my bosses they all like me, they say i am hard to beat; i give them the bold standoff, you bet i have got the cheek. i always work for wages, my pay i get in gold; i am bound to follow the longhorn steer until i am too old. ci yi yip yip yip pe ya. i am a texas cowboy and i do ride the range; my trade is cinches and saddles and ropes and bridle reins; with stetson hat and jingling spurs and leather up to the knees, gray backs as big as chili beans and fighting like hell with fleas. and if i had a little stake, i soon would married be, but another week and i must go, the boss said so to-day. my girl must cheer up courage and choose some other one, for i am bound to follow the lone star trail until my race is run. ci yi yip yip yip pe ya. it almost breaks my heart for to have to go away, and leave my own little darling, my sweetheart so far away. but when i'm out on the lone star trail often i'll think of thee, of my own dear girl, the darling one, the one i would like to see. and when i get to a shipping point, i'll get on a little spree to drive away the sorrow for the girl that once loved me. and though red licker stirs us up we're bound to have our fun, and i intend to follow the lone star trail until my race is run. ci yi yip yip yip pe ya. i went up the lone star trail in eighteen eighty-three; i fell in love with a pretty miss and she in love with me. "when you get to kansas write and let me know; and if you get in trouble, your bail i'll come and go." when i got up in kansas, i had a pleasant dream; i dreamed i was down on trinity, down on that pleasant stream; i dreampt my true love right beside me, she come to go my bail; i woke up broken hearted with a yearling by the tail. ci yi yip yip yip pe ya. in came my jailer about nine o'clock, a bunch of keys was in his hand, my cell door to unlock, saying, "cheer up, my prisoner, i heard some voice say you're bound to hear your sentence some time to-day." in came my mother about ten o'clock, saying, "o my loving johnny, what sentence have you got?" "the jury found me guilty and the judge a-standin' by has sent me down to huntsville to lock me up and die." ci yi yip yip yip pe ya. down come the jailer, just about eleven o'clock, with a bunch of keys all in his hand the cell doors to unlock, saying, "cheer up, my prisoner, i heard the jury say just ten long years in huntsville you're bound to go and stay." down come my sweetheart, ten dollars in her hand, saying, "give this to my cowboy, 'tis all that i command; o give this to my cowboy and think of olden times, think of the darling that he has left behind." ci yi yip yip yip pe ya. way down in mexico o boys, we're goin' far to-night, yeo-ho, yeo-ho! we'll take the greasers now in hand and drive 'em in the rio grande, way down in mexico. we'll hang old santa anna soon, yeo-ho, yeo-ho! and all the greaser soldiers, too, to the chune of yankee doodle doo, way down in mexico. we'll scatter 'em like flocks of sheep, yeo-ho, yeo-ho! we'll mow 'em down with rifle ball and plant our flag right on their wall, way down in mexico. old rough and ready, he's a trump, yeo-ho, yeo-ho! he'll wipe old santa anna out and put the greasers all to rout, way down in mexico. then we'll march back by and by, yeo-ho, yeo-ho! and kiss the gals we left to home and never more we'll go and roam, way down in mexico. rattlesnake--a ranch haying song a nice young ma-wa-wan lived on a hi-wi-will; a nice young ma-wa-wan, for i knew him we-we-well. to my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree! this nice young ma-wa-wan went out to mo-wo-wow to see if he-we-we could make a sho-wo-wow. to my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree! he scarcely mo-wo-wowed half round the fie-we-wield till up jumped--come a rattle, come a sna-wa-wake, and bit him on the he-we-weel. to my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree! he laid right dow-we-wown upon the gro-wo-wound and shut his ey-wy-wyes and looked all aro-wo-wound. to my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree! "o pappy da-wa-wad, go tell my ga-wa-wal that i'm a-goin' ter di-wi-wie, for i know i sha-wa-wall." to my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree! "o pappy da-wa-wad, go spread the ne-wu-wus; and here come sa-wa-wall without her sho-woo-woos." to my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree! "o john, o joh-wa-wahn, why did you go-wo-wo way down in the mea-we-we-dow so far to mo-wo-wow?" to my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree! "o sal, o sa-wa-wall, why don't you kno-wo-wow when the grass gits ri-wi-wipe, it must be mo-wo-woed?" to my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree! come all young gir-wi-wirls and shed a tea-we-wear for this young ma-wa-wan that died right he-we-were. to my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree! come all young me-we-wen and warning ta-wa-wake, and don't get bi-wi-wit by a rattle sna-wa-wake. to my rattle, to my roo-rah-ree! the railroad corral oh we're up in the morning ere breaking of day, the chuck wagon's busy, the flapjacks in play; the herd is astir o'er hillside and vale, with the night riders rounding them into the trail. oh, come take up your cinches, come shake out your reins; come wake your old broncho and break for the plains; come roust out your steers from the long chaparral, for the outfit is off to the railroad corral. the sun circles upward; the steers as they plod are pounding to powder the hot prairie sod; and it seems as the dust makes you dizzy and sick that we'll never reach noon and the cool, shady creek. but tie up your kerchief and ply up your nag; come dry up your grumbles and try not to lag; come with your steers from the long chaparral, for we're far on the road to the railroad corral. the afternoon shadows are starting to lean, when the chuck wagon sticks in the marshy ravine; the herd scatters farther than vision can look, for you can bet all true punchers will help out the cook. come shake out your rawhide and snake it up fair; come break your old broncho to take in his share; come from your steers in the long chaparral, for 'tis all in the drive to the railroad corral. but the longest of days must reach evening at last, the hills all climbed, the creeks all past; the tired herd droops in the yellowing light; let them loaf if they will, for the railroad's in sight so flap up your holster and snap up your belt, and strap up your saddle whose lap you have felt; good-bye to the steers from the long chaparral, for there's a town that's a trunk by the railroad corral. the song of the "metis" trapper by rolette hurrah for the great white way! hurrah for the dog and sledge! as we snow-shoe along, we give them a song, with a snap of the whip and an urgent "mush on,"-- hurrah for the great white way! hurrah! hurrah for the snow and the ice! as we follow the trail, we call to the dogs with whistle and song, and reply to their talk with only "mush on, mush on"! hurrah for the snow and the ice! hurrah! hurrah for the gun and the trap,-- as we follow the lines by the rays of the mystic light that flames in the north with banners so bright, as we list to its swish, swish, swish, through the air all night, hurrah for the gun and the trap! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah for the fire and cold! as we lie in the robes all night. and list to the howl of the wolf; for we emptied the pot of the tea so hot, and a king on his throne might envy our lot,-- hurrah for the fire and cold! hurrah! hurrah for our black-haired girls, who brave the storms of the mountain heights and follow us on the great white way; for their eyes so bright light the way all right and guide us to shelter and warmth each night. hurrah for our black-haired girls! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! the camp fire has gone out through progress of the railroads our occupation's gone; so we will put ideas into words, our words into a song. first comes the cowboy, he is pointed for the west; of all the pioneers i claim the cowboys are the best; you will miss him on the round-up, it's gone, his merry shout,-- the cowboy has left the country and the campfire has gone out. there is the freighters, our companions, you've got to leave this land, can't drag your loads for nothing through the gumbo and the sand. the railroads are bound to beat you when you do your level best; so give it up to the grangers and strike out for the west. bid them all adieu and give the merry shout,-- the cowboy has left the country and the campfire has gone out. when i think of those good old days, my eyes with tears do fill; when i think of the tin can by the fire and the cayote on the hill. i'll tell you, boys, in those days old-timers stood a show,-- our pockets full of money, not a sorrow did we know. but things have changed now, we are poorly clothed and fed. our wagons are all broken and our ponies most all dead. soon we will leave this country, you'll hear the angels shout, "oh, here they come to heaven, the campfire has gone out." night-herding song by harry stephens oh, slow up, dogies, quit your roving round, you have wandered and tramped all over the ground; oh, graze along, dogies, and feed kinda slow, and don't forever be on the go,-- oh, move slow, dogies, move slow. hi-oo, hi-oo, oo-oo. i have circle-herded, trail-herded, night-herded, and cross-herded, too, but to keep you together, that's what i can't do; my horse is leg weary and i'm awful tired, but if i let you get away i'm sure to get fired,-- bunch up, little dogies, bunch up. hi-oo, hi-oo, oo-oo. o say, little dogies, when you goin' to lay down and quit this forever siftin' around? my limbs are weary, my seat is sore; oh, lay down, dogies, like you've laid before,-- lay down, little dogies, lay down. hi-oo, hi-oo, oo-oo. oh, lay still, dogies, since you have laid down, stretch away out on the big open ground; snore loud, little dogies, and drown the wild sound that will all go away when the day rolls round,-- lay still, little dogies, lay still. hi-oo, hi-oo, oo-oo. . . . . . . tail piece oh, the cow-puncher loves the whistle of his rope, as he races over the plains; and the stage-driver loves the popper of his whip, and the rattle of his concord chains; and we'll all pray the lord that we will be saved, and we'll keep the golden rule; but i'd rather be home with the girl i love than to monkey with this goddamn'd mule. . . . . . . . . . . . the habit[ ] i've beat my way wherever any winds have blown, i've bummed along from portland down to san antone, from sandy hook to frisco, over gulch and hill; for once you git the habit, why, you can't keep still. i settles down quite frequent and i says, says i, "i'll never wander further till i comes to die." but the wind it sorta chuckles, "why, o' course you will," and shure enough i does it, cause i can't keep still. i've seed a lot o' places where i'd like to stay, but i gets a feelin' restless and i'm on my way. i was never meant for settin' on my own door sill, and once you git the habit, why, you can't keep still. i've been in rich men's houses and i've been in jail, but when it's time for leavin', i jes hits the trail; i'm a human bird of passage, and the song i trill, is, "once you git the habit, why, you can't keep still." the sun is sorta coaxin' and the road is clear and the wind is singin' ballads that i got to hear. it ain't no use to argue when you feel the thrill; for once you git the habit, why, you can't keep still. [footnote : a song current in arizona, probably written by berton braley. cowboys and miners often take verses that please them and fit them to music.] old paint[ ] refrain: goodbye, old paint, i'm a-leavin' cheyenne, goodbye, old paint, i'm a-leavin' cheyenne,-- my foot in the stirrup, my pony won't stand; goodbye, old paint, i'm a-leavin' cheyenne. i'm a-leavin' cheyenne, i'm off for montan'; goodbye, old paint, i'm a-leavin' cheyenne. i'm a ridin' old paint, i'm a-leadin' old fan; goodbye, old paint, i'm a-leavin' cheyenne. with my feet in the stirrups, my bridle in my hand; goodbye, old paint, i'm a-leavin' cheyenne. old paint's a good pony, he paces when he can; goodbye, little annie, i'm off for cheyenne. oh, hitch up your horses and feed 'em some hay, and seat yourself by me so long as you stay. my horses ain't hungry, they'll not eat your hay; my wagon is loaded and rolling away. my foot in my stirrup, my reins in my hand; good-morning, young lady, my horses won't stand. goodbye, old paint, i'm a-leavin' cheyenne. goodbye, old paint, i'm a-leavin' cheyenne. [footnote : these verses are used in many parts of the west as a dance song. sung to waltz music the song takes the place of "home, sweet home" at the conclusion of a cowboy ball. the "fiddle" is silenced and the entire company sing as they dance.] down south on the rio grande from way down south on the rio grande, roll on steers for the post oak sand,-- way down south in dixie, oh, boys, ho. you'd laugh fur to see that fellow a-straddle of a mustang mare on a raw-hide saddle,-- way down south in dixie, oh, boys, ho. rich as a king, and he wouldn't be bigger fur a pitchin' hoss and a lame old nigger,-- way down south in dixie, oh, boys, ho. ole abe kep' gettin' bigger an' bigger, 'til he bust hisself 'bout a lame old nigger,-- way down south in dixie, oh, boys, ho. old jeff swears he'll sew him together with powder and shot instead of leather,-- way down south in dixie, oh, boys, ho. kin cuss an' fight an' hold or free 'em, but i know them mavericks when i see 'em,-- way down south in dixie, oh, boys, ho. silver jack[ ] i was on the drive in eighty working under silver jack, which the same is now in jackson and ain't soon expected back, and there was a fellow 'mongst us by the name of robert waite; kind of cute and smart and tonguey guess he was a graduate. he could talk on any subject from the bible down to hoyle, and his words flowed out so easy, just as smooth and slick as oil, he was what they call a skeptic, and he loved to sit and weave hifalutin' words together tellin' what he didn't believe. one day we all were sittin' round smokin' nigger head tobacco and hearing bob expound; hell, he said, was all a humbug, and he made it plain as day that the bible was a fable; and we lowed it looked that way. miracles and such like were too rank for him to stand, and as for him they called the savior he was just a common man. "you're a liar," someone shouted, "and you've got to take it back." then everybody started,-- 'twas the words of silver jack. and he cracked his fists together and he stacked his duds and cried, "'twas in that thar religion that my mother lived and died; and though i haven't always used the lord exactly right, yet when i hear a chump abuse him he's got to eat his words or fight." now, this bob he weren't no coward and he answered bold and free: "stack your duds and cut your capers, for there ain't no flies on me." and they fit for forty minutes and the crowd would whoop and cheer when jack spit up a tooth or two, or when bobby lost an ear. but at last jack got him under and he slugged him onct or twict, and straightway bob admitted the divinity of christ. but jack kept reasoning with him till the poor cuss gave a yell and lowed he'd been mistaken in his views concerning hell. then the fierce encounter ended and they riz up from the ground and someone brought a bottle out and kindly passed it round. and we drank to bob's religion in a cheerful sort o' way, but the spread of infidelity was checked in camp that day. [footnote : a lumber jack song adopted by the cowboys.] the cowboy's christmas ball[ ] way out in western texas, where the clear fork's waters flow, where the cattle are a-browzin' and the spanish ponies grow; where the northers come a-whistlin' from beyond the neutral strip; and the prairie dogs are sneezin', as though they had the grip; where the coyotes come a-howlin' round the ranches after dark, and the mockin' birds are singin' to the lovely medder lark; where the 'possum and the badger and the rattlesnakes abound, and the monstrous stars are winkin' o'er a wilderness profound; where lonesome, tawny prairies melt into airy streams, while the double mountains slumber in heavenly kinds of dreams; where the antelope is grazin' and the lonely plovers call,-- it was there i attended the cowboy's christmas ball. the town was anson city, old jones' county seat, where they raised polled angus cattle and waving whiskered wheat; where the air is soft and bammy and dry and full of health, where the prairies is explodin' with agricultural wealth; where they print the _texas western_, that hec mccann supplies with news and yarns and stories, of most amazing size; where frank smith "pulls the badger" on knowing tenderfeet, and democracy's triumphant and mighty hard to beat; where lives that good old hunter, john milsap, from lamar, who used to be the sheriff "back east in paris, sah"! 'twas there, i say, at anson with the lovely widder wall, that i went to that reception, the cowboy's christmas ball. the boys had left the ranches and come to town in piles; the ladies, kinder scatterin', had gathered in for miles. and yet the place was crowded, as i remember well, 'twas gave on this occasion at the morning star hotel. the music was a fiddle and a lively tambourine, and a viol came imported, by the stage from abilene. the room was togged out gorgeous--with mistletoe and shawls, and the candles flickered festious, around the airy walls. the wimmen folks looked lovely--the boys looked kinder treed, till the leader commenced yelling, "whoa, fellers, let's stampede," and the music started sighing and a-wailing through the hall as a kind of introduction to the cowboy's christmas ball. the leader was a feller that came from swenson's ranch,-- they called him windy billy from little deadman's branch. his rig was kinder keerless,--big spurs and high heeled boots; he had the reputation that comes when fellers shoots. his voice was like the bugle upon the mountain height; his feet were animated, and a mighty movin' sight, when he commenced to holler, "now fellers, shake your pen! lock horns ter all them heifers and rustle them like men; saloot yer lovely critters; neow swing and let 'em go; climb the grapevine round 'em; neow all hands do-ce-do! you maverick, jine the round-up,--jes skip the waterfall," huh! hit was getting active, the cowboy's christmas ball. the boys was tolerable skittish, the ladies powerful neat, that old bass viol's music just got there with both feet! that wailin', frisky fiddle, i never shall forget; and windy kept a-singin'--i think i hear him yet-- "oh, x's, chase yer squirrels, and cut 'em to our side; spur treadwell to the center, with cross p charley's bride, doc hollis down the center, and twine the ladies' chain, van andrews, pen the fillies in big t diamond's train. all pull your freight together, neow swallow fork and change; big boston, lead the trail herd through little pitchfork's range. purr round yer gentle pussies, neow rope and balance all!" huh! hit were gettin' active--the cowboy's christmas ball. the dust riz fast and furious; we all jes galloped round, till the scenery got so giddy that t bar dick was downed. we buckled to our partners and told 'em to hold on, then shook our hoofs like lightning until the early dawn. don't tell me 'bout cotillions, or germans. no sir-ee! that whirl at anson city jes takes the cake with me. i'm sick of lazy shufflin's, of them i've had my fill, give me a frontier break-down backed up by windy bill. mcallister ain't nowhere, when windy leads the show; i've seen 'em both in harness and so i ought ter know. oh, bill, i shan't forget yer, and i oftentimes recall that lively gaited sworray--the cowboy's christmas ball. [footnote : this poem, one of the best in larry chittenden's _ranch verses_, published by g.p. putnam's sons, new york, has been set to music by the cowboys and its phraseology slightly changed, as this copy will show, by oral transmission. i have heard it in new mexico and it has been sent to me from various places,--always as a song. none of those who sent in the song knew that it was already in print.] pinto i am a vaquero by trade; to handle my rope i'm not afraid. i lass' an _otero_ by the two horns throw down the biggest that ever was born. whoa! whoa! whoa! pinto, whoa! my name to you i will not tell; for what's the use, you know me so well. the girls all love me, and cry when i leave them to join the rodero. whoa! whoa! whoa! pinto, whoa! i am a vaquero, and here i reside; show me the broncho i cannot ride. they say old pinto with one split ear is the hardest jumping broncho on the rodero. whoa! whoa! whoa! pinto, whoa! there strayed to our camp an iron gray colt; the boys were all fraid him so on him i bolt. you bet i stayed with him till cheer after cheer,-- "he's the broncho twister that's on the rodero." whoa! whoa! whoa! pinto, whoa! my story is ended, old pinto is dead; i'm going down laredo and paint the town red. i'm going up to laredo and set up the beer to all the cowboys that's on the rodero. whoa! whoa! whoa! pinto, whoa! the gal i left behind me i struck the trail in seventy-nine, the herd strung out behind me; as i jogged along my mind ran back for the gal i left behind me. that sweet little gal, that true little gal, the gal i left behind me! if ever i get off the trail and the indians they don't find me, i'll make my way straight back again to the gal i left behind me. that sweet little gal, that true little gal, the gal i left behind me! the wind did blow, the rain did flow, the hail did fall and blind me; i thought of that gal, that sweet little gal, that gal i'd left behind me! that sweet little gal, that true little gal, the gal i left behind me! she wrote ahead to the place i said, i was always glad to find it. she says, "i am true, when you get through right back here you will find me." that sweet little gal, that true little gal, the gal i left behind me! when we sold out i took the train, i knew where i would find her; when i got back we had a smack and that was no gol-darned liar. that sweet little gal, that true little gal, the gal i left behind me! billy the kid billy was a bad man and carried a big gun, he was always after greasers and kept 'em on the run. he shot one every morning, for to make his morning meal. and let a white man sass him, he was shore to feel his steel. he kept folks in hot water, and he stole from many a stage; and when he was full of liquor he was always in a rage. but one day he met a man who was a whole lot badder. and now he's dead, and we ain't none the sadder. the hell-bound train a texas cowboy lay down on a bar-room floor. having drunk so much he could drink no more; so he fell asleep with a troubled brain to dream that he rode on a hell-bound train. the engine with murderous blood was damp and was brilliantly lit with a brimstone lamp; an imp, for fuel, was shoveling bones, while the furnace rang with a thousand groans. the boiler was filled with lager beer and the devil himself was the engineer; the passengers were a most motley crew,-- church member, atheist, gentile, and jew, rich men in broadcloth, beggars in rags, handsome young ladies, and withered old hags, yellow and black men, red, brown, and white. all chained together,--o god, what a sight! while the train rushed on at an awful pace, the sulphurous fumes scorched their hands and face; wider and wider the country grew, as faster and faster the engine flew. louder and louder the thunder crashed and brighter and brighter the lightning flashed; hotter and hotter the air became till the clothes were burnt from each quivering frame. and out of the distance there arose a yell, "ha, ha," said the devil, "we're nearing hell!" then oh, how the passengers all shrieked with pain and begged the devil to stop the train. but he capered about and danced for glee and laughed and joked at their misery. "my faithful friends, you have done the work and the devil never can a payday shirk. "you've bullied the weak, you've robbed the poor; the starving brother you've turned from the door, you've laid up gold where the canker rust, and have given free vent to your beastly lust. "you've justice scorned, and corruption sown, and trampled the laws of nature down. you have drunk, rioted, cheated, plundered, and lied, and mocked at god in your hell-born pride. "you have paid full fare so i'll carry you through; for it's only right you should have your due. why, the laborer always expects his hire, so i'll land you safe in the lake of fire. "where your flesh will waste in the flames that roar, and my imps torment you forever more." then the cowboy awoke with an anguished cry, his clothes wet with sweat and his hair standing high. then he prayed as he never had prayed till that hour to be saved from his sin and the demon's power. and his prayers and his vows were not in vain; for he never rode the hell-bound train. the old scout's lament come all of you, my brother scouts, and listen to my song; come, let us sing together though the shadows fall so long. of all the old frontiersmen that used to scour the plain there are but very few of them that with us yet remain. day after day they're dropping off, they're going one by one; our clan is fast decreasing, our race is almost run. there are many of our number that never wore the blue, but faithfully they did their part as brave men, tried and true. they never joined the army, but had other work to do in piloting the coming folks, to help them safely through. but brothers, we are failing, our race is almost run; the days of elk and buffalo and beaver traps are gone-- oh, the days of elk and buffalo! it fills my heart with pain to know these days are past and gone to never come again. we fought the red-skin rascals over valley, hill, and plain; we fought him in the mountain top, we fought him down again. these fighting days are over. the indian yell resounds no more along the border; peace sends far sweeter sounds. but we found great joy, old comrades, to hear and make it die; we won bright homes for gentle ones, and now, our west, good-bye. the deserted adobe round the 'dobe rank sands are thickly blowin', its ridges fill the deserted field; yet on this claim young lives once hope were sowing for all the years might yield; and in strong hands the echoing hoof pursuin' a wooden share turned up the sod, the toiler brave drank deep the fresh air's brewin' and sang content to god. the toiler brave drank deep the fresh air's brewin' and sang content to god. a woman fair and sweet has smilin' striven through long and lonesome hours; a blue-eyed babe, a bit of earthly heaven, laughed at the sun's hot towers; a bow of promise made this desert splendid, this 'dobe was their pride. but what began so well, alas, has ended--, the promise died. but what began so well alas soon ended--, the promise died. their plans and dreams, their cheerful labor wasted in dry and mis-spent years; the spring was sweet, the summer bitter tasted, the autumn salt with tears. now "gyp" and sand do hide their one-time yearnin'; 'twas theirs; 'tis past. god's ways are strange, we take so long in learnin', to fail at last. god's ways are strange, we take so long in learnin', to fail at last. the cowboy at work you may call the cowboy horned and think him hard to tame, you may heap vile epithets upon his head; but to know him is to like him, notwithstanding his hard name, for he will divide with you his beef and bread. if you see him on his pony as he scampers o'er the plain, you would think him wild and woolly, to be sure; but his heart is warm and tender when he sees a friend in need, though his education is but to endure. when the storm breaks in its fury and the lightning's vivid flash makes you thank the lord for shelter and for bed, then it is he mounts his pony and away you see him dash, no protection but the hat upon his head. such is life upon a cow ranch, and the half was never told; but you never find a kinder-hearted set than the cattleman at home, be he either young or old, he's a "daisy from away back," don't forget. when you fail to find a pony or a cow that's gone a-stray, be that cow or pony wild or be it tame, the cowboy, like the drummer,--and the bed-bug, too, they say,-- brings him to you, for he gets there just the same. here's to the ranger! he leaves unplowed his furrow, he leaves his books unread for a life of tented freedom by lure of danger led. he's first in the hour of peril, he's gayest in the dance, like the guardsman of old england or the beau sabreur of france. he stands our faithful bulwark against our savage foe; through lonely woodland places our children come and go; our flocks and herds untended o'er hill and valley roam, the ranger in the saddle means peace for us at home. behold our smiling farmsteads where waves the golden grain! beneath yon tree, earth's bosom was dark with crimson stain. that bluff the death-shot echoed of husband, father, slain! god grant such sight of horror we never see again! the gay and hardy ranger, his blanket on the ground, lies by the blazing camp-fire while song and tale goes round; and if one voice is silent, one fails to hear the jest, they know his thoughts are absent with her who loves him best. our state, her sons confess it, that queenly, star-crowned brow, has darkened with the shadow of lawlessness ere now; and men of evil passions on her reproach have laid, but that the ready ranger rode promptly to her aid. he may not win the laurel nor trumpet tongue of fame; but beauty smiles upon him, and ranchmen bless his name. then here's to the texas ranger, past, present and to come! our safety from the savage, the guardian of our home. muster out the ranger yes, muster them out, the valiant band that guards our western home. what matter to you in your eastern land if the raiders here should come? no danger that you shall awake at night to the howls of a savage band; so muster them out, though the morning light find havoc on every hand. some dear one is sick and the horses all gone, so we can't for a doctor send; the outlaws were in in the light of the morn and no rangers here to defend. for they've mustered them out, the brave true band, untiring by night and day. the fearless scouts of this border land made the taxes high, they say. have fewer men in the capitol walls, fewer tongues in the war of words, but add to the rangers, the living wall that keeps back the bandit hordes. have fewer dinners, less turtle soup, if the taxes are too high. there are many other and better ways to lower them if they try. don't waste so much of your money printing speeches people don't read. if you'd only take off what's used for that 'twould lower the tax indeed. don't use so much sugar and lemons; cold water is just as good for a constant drink in the summer time and better for the blood. but leave us the rangers to guard us still, nor think that they cost too dear; for their faithful watch over vale and hill gives our loved ones naught to fear. a cow camp on the range oh, the prairie dogs are screaming, and the birds are on the wing, see the heel fly chase the heifer, boys! 'tis the first class sign of spring. the elm wood is budding, the earth is turning green. see the pretty things of nature that make life a pleasant dream! i'm just living through the winter to enjoy the coming change, for there is no place so homelike as a cow camp on the range. the boss is smiling radiant, radiant as the setting sun; for he knows he's stealing glories, for he ain't a-cussin' none. the cook is at the chuck-box whistling "heifers in the green," making baking powder biscuits, boys, while the pot is biling beans. the boys untie their bedding and unroll it on the run, for they are in a monstrous hurry for the supper's almost done. "here's your bloody wolf bait," cried the cook's familiar voice as he climbed the wagon wheel to watch the cowboys all rejoice. then all thoughts were turned from reverence to a plate of beef and beans, as we graze on beef and biscuits like yearlings on the range. to the dickens with your city where they herd the brainless brats, on a range so badly crowded there ain't room to cuss the cat. this life is not so sumptuous, i'm not longing for a change, for there is no place so homelike as a cow camp on the range. freckles. a fragment he was little an' peaked an' thin, an' narry a no account horse,-- least that's the way you'd describe him in case that the beast had been lost; but, for single and double cussedness an' for double fired sin, the horse never came out o' texas that was half-way knee-high to him! the first time that ever i saw him was nineteen years ago last spring; 'twas the year we had grasshoppers, that come an' et up everything, that a feller rode up here one evenin' an' wanted to pen over night a small bunch of horses, he said; an' i told him i guessed 'twas all right. well, the feller was busted, the horses was thin, an' the grass round here kind of good, an' he said if i'd let him hold here a few days he'd settle with me when he could. so i told him all right, turn them loose down the draw, that the latch string was always untied, he was welcome to stop a few days if he wished and rest from his weary ride. well, the cuss stayed around for two or three weeks, till at last he was ready to go; and that cuss out yonder bein' too poor to move, he gimme,--the cuss had no dough. well, at first the darn brute was as wild as a deer, an' would snort when he came to the branch, an' it took two cow punchers, on good horses, too, to handle him here at the ranch. well, the winter came on an' the range it got hard, an' my mustang commenced to get thin, so i fed him some an' rode him around, an' found out old freckles was game. for that was what the other cuss called him,--just freckles, no more or no less,-- his color,--couldn't describe it,--something like a paint shop in distress. them was indian times, young feller, that i am telling about; an' oft's the time i've seen the red man fight an' put the boys to rout. a good horse in them days, young feller, would save your life,-- one that in any race could hold the pace when the red-skin bands were rife. * * * * * whose old cow? 'twas the end of round-up, the last day of june, or maybe july, i don't remember, or it might have been august, 'twas some time ago, or perhaps 'twas the first of september. anyhow, 'twas the round-up we had at mayou on the lightning rod's range, near cayo; there were some twenty wagons, more or less, camped about on the temporal in the cañon. first night we'd no cattle, so we only stood guard on the horses, somewhere near two hundred head; so we side-lined and hoppled, we belled and we staked, loosed our hot-rolls and fell into bed. next morning 'bout day break we started our work, our horses, like 'possums, felt fine. each one "tendin' knittin'," none tryin' to shirk! so the round-up got on in good time. well, we worked for a week till the country was clean and the bosses said, "now, boys, we'll stay here. we'll carve and we'll trim 'em and start out a herd up the east trail from old abilene." next morning all on herd, and but two with the cut, and the boss on piute, carving fine, till he rode down his horse and had to pull out, and a new man went in to clean up. well, after each outfit had worked on the band there was only three head of them left; when nig add from l f d outfit rode in,-- a dictionary on earmarks and brands. he cut the two head out, told where they belonged; but when the last cow stood there alone add's eyes bulged so he didn't know just what to say, 'ceptin', "boss, dere's something here monstrous wrong! "white folks smarter'n add, and maybe i'se wrong; but here's six months' wages dat i'll give if anyone'll tell me when i reads dis mark to who dis longhorned cow belong! "overslope in right ear an' de underbill, lef' ear swaller fork an' de undercrop, hole punched in center, an' de jinglebob under half crop, an' de slash an' split. "she's got o block an' lightnin' rod, nine forty-six an' a bar eleven, t terrapin an' ninety-seven, rafter cross an' de double prod. "half circle a an' diamond d, four cross l and three p z, b w i bar, x v v, bar n cross an' a l c. "so, if none o' you punchers claims dis cow, mr. stock 'sociation needn't git 'larmed; for one more brand more or less won't do no harm, so old nigger add'l just brand her now." old time cowboy come all you melancholy folks wherever you may be, i'll sing you about the cowboy whose life is light and free. he roams about the prairie, and, at night when he lies down, his heart is as gay as the flowers in may in his bed upon the ground. they're a little bit rough, i must confess, the most of them, at least; but if you do not hunt a quarrel you can live with them in peace; for if you do, you're sure to rue the day you joined their band. they will follow you up and shoot it out with you just man to man. did you ever go to a cowboy whenever hungry and dry, asking for a dollar, and have him you deny? he'll just pull out his pocket book and hand you a note,-- they are the fellows to help you whenever you are broke. go to their ranches and stay a while, they never ask a cent; and when they go to town, their money is freely spent. they walk straight up and take a drink, paying for every one, and they never ask your pardon for anything they've done. when they go to their dances, some dance while others pat they ride their bucking bronchos, and wear their broad-brimmed hats; with their california saddles, and their pants stuck in their boots, you can hear their spurs a-jingling, and perhaps some of them shoots. come all soft-hearted tenderfeet, if you want to have some fun; go live among the cowboys, they'll show you how it's done. they'll treat you like a prince, my boys, about them there's nothing mean; but don't try to give them too much advice, for all of them ain't green. bucking broncho my love is a rider, wild bronchos he breaks, though he's promised to quit it, just for my sake. he ties up one foot, the saddle puts on, with a swing and a jump he is mounted and gone. the first time i met him, 'twas early one spring, riding a broncho, a high-headed thing. he tipped me a wink as he gaily did go; for he wished me to look at his bucking broncho. the next time i saw him 'twas late in the fall, swinging the girls at tomlinson's ball. he laughed and he talked as we danced to and fro, promised never to ride on another broncho. he made me some presents, among them a ring; the return that i made him was a far better thing; 'twas a young maiden's heart, i'd have you all know; he's won it by riding his bucking broncho. my love has a gun, and that gun he can use, but he's quit his gun fighting as well as his booze; and he's sold him his saddle, his spurs, and his rope, and there's no more cow punching, and that's what i hope. my love has a gun that has gone to the bad, which makes poor old jimmy feel pretty damn sad; for the gun it shoots high and the gun it shoots low, and it wobbles about like a bucking broncho. now all you young maidens, where'er you reside, beware of the cowboy who swings the raw-hide; he'll court you and pet you and leave you and go in the spring up the trail on his bucking broncho. the pecos queen where the pecos river winds and turns in its journey to the sea, from its white walls of sand and rock striving ever to be free, near the highest railroad bridge that all these modern times have seen, dwells fair young patty morehead, the pecos river queen. she is known by every cowboy on the pecos river wide, they know full well that she can shoot, that she can rope and ride. she goes to every round-up, every cow work without fail, looking out for her cattle, branded "walking hog on rail." she made her start in cattle, yes, made it with her rope; can tie down every maverick before it can strike a lope. she can rope and tie and brand it as quick as any man; she's voted by all cowboys an a- top cow hand. across the comstock railroad bridge, the highest in the west, patty rode her horse one day, a lover's heart to test; for he told her he would gladly risk all dangers for her sake-- but the puncher wouldn't follow, so she's still without a mate. chopo through rocky arroyas so dark and so deep, down the sides of the mountains so slippery and steep,-- you've good judgment, sure-footed, wherever you go, you're a safety conveyance, my little chopo. refrain:-- chopo, my pony, chopo, my pride, chopo, my amigo, chopo i will ride. from mexico's borders 'cross texas' llano to the salt pecos river, i ride you, chopo. whether single or double or in the lead of the team, over highways or byways or crossing a stream,-- you're always in fix and willing to go, whenever you're called on, my chico chopo. you're a good roping horse, you were never jerked down, when tied to a steer, you will circle him round; let him once cross the string and over he'll go,-- you sabe the business, my cow-horse, chopo. one day on the llano a hailstorm began, the herds were stampeded, the horses all ran, the lightning it glittered, a cyclone did blow, but you faced the sweet music, my little chopo. top hand while you're all so frisky i'll sing a little song,-- think a little horn of whiskey will help the thing along? it's all about the top hand, when he busted flat bummin' round the town, in his mexican hat. he's laid up all winter, and his pocket book is flat, his clothes are all tatters, but he don't mind that. see him in town with a crowd that he knows, rollin' cigarettes and smokin' through his nose. first thing he tells you, he owns a certain brand,-- leads you to think he is a daisy hand; next thing he tells you 'bout his trip up the trail, all the way to kansas, to finish out his tale. put him on a hoss, he's a handy hand to work; put him in the brandin'-pen, he's dead sure to shirk. with his natural leaf tobacco in the pockets of his vest he'll tell you his california pants are the best. he's handled lots of cattle, hasn't any fears, can draw his sixty dollars for the balance of his years. put him on herd, he's a-cussin' all day; anything he tries, it's sure to get away. when you have a round-up, he tells it all about he's goin' to do the cuttin' an' you can't keep him out. if anything goes wrong, he lays it on the screws, says the lazy devils were tryin' to take a snooze. when he meets a greener he ain't afraid to rig, stands him on a chuck box and makes him dance a jig,-- waves a loaded cutter, makes him sing and shout,-- he's a regular ben thompson when the boss ain't about. when the boss ain't about he leaves his leggins in camp, he swears a man who wears them is worse than a tramp. says he's not carin' for the wages he earns, for dad's rich in texas,--got wagon loads to burn; but when he goes to town, he's sure to take it in, he's always been dreaded wherever he's been. he rides a fancy horse, he's a favorite man, can get more credit than a common waddie can. when you ship the cattle he's bound to go along to keep the boss from drinking and see that nothing's wrong. wherever he goes, catch on to his name, he likes to be called with a handle to his name. he's always primping with a pocket looking-glass, from the top to the bottom he's a bold jackass. california trail list all you california boys and open wide your ears, for now we start across the plains with a herd of mules and steers. now, bear in mind before you start, that you'll eat jerked beef, not ham, and antelope steak, oh cuss the stuff! it often proves a sham. you cannot find a stick of wood on all this prairie wide; whene'er you eat you've got to stand or sit on some old bull hide. it's fun to cook with buffalo chips or mesquite, green as corn,-- if i'd once known what i know now i'd have gone around cape horn. the women have the hardest time who emigrate by land; for when they cook out in the wind they're sure to burn their hand. then they scold their husbands round, get mad and spill the tea,-- i'd have thanked my stars if they'd not come out upon this bleak prairie. most every night we put out guards to keep the indians off. when night comes round some heads will ache, and some begin to cough. to be deprived of help at night, you know is mighty hard, but every night there's someone sick to keep from standing guard. then they're always talking of what they've got, and what they're going to do; some will say they're content, for i've got as much as you. others will say, "i'll buy or sell, i'm damned if i care which." others will say, "boys, buy him out, for he doesn't own a stitch." old raw-hide shoes are hell on corns while tramping through the sands, and driving jackass by the tail,-- damn the overland! i would as leaf be on a raft at sea and there at once be lost. john, let's leave the poor old mule, we'll never get him across! bronc peeler's song i've been upon the prairie, i've been upon the plain, i've never rid a steam-boat, nor a double-cinched-up train. but i've driv my eight-up to wagon that were locked three in a row, and that through blindin' sand storms, and all kinds of wind and snow. cho:-- goodbye, liza, poor gal, goodbye, liza jane, goodbye, liza, poor gal, she died on the plain. there never was a place i've been had any kind of wood. we burn the roots of bar-grass and think it's very good. i've never tasted home bread, nor cakes, nor muss like that; but i know fried dough and beef pulled from red-hot tallow fat. i hate to see the wire fence a-closin' up the range; and all this fillin' in the trail with people that is strange. we fellers don't know how to plow, nor reap the golden grain; but to round up steers and brand the cows to us was allus plain. so when this blasted country is all closed in with wire, and all the top, as trot grass, is burnin' in sol's fire, i hope the settlers will be glad when rain hits the land. and all us cowdogs are in hell with a "set"[ ] joined hand in hand. [footnote : "set" means settler.] a deer hunt one pleasant summer day it came a storm of snow; i picked my old gun and a-hunting i did go. i came across a herd of deer and i trailed them through the snow, i trailed them to the mountains where straight up they did go. i trailed them o'er the mountains, i trailed them to the brim, and i trailed them to the waters where they jumped in to swim. i cocked both my pistols and under water went,-- to kill the fattest of them deer, that was my whole intent. while i was under water five hundred feet or more i fired both my pistols; like cannons did they roar. i picked up my venison and out of water came,-- to kill the balance of them deer, i thought it would be fun. so i bent my gun in circles and fired round a hill. and, out of three or four deer, ten thousand i did kill. then i picked up my venison and on my back i tied and as the sun came passing by i hopped up there to ride. the sun she carried me o'er the globe, so merrily i did roam that in four and twenty hours i landed safe at home. and the money i received for my venison and skin, i taken it all to the barn door and it would not all go in. and if you doubt the truth of this i tell you how to know: just take my trail and go my rounds, as i did, long ago. windy bill windy bill was a texas man,-- well, he could rope, you bet. he swore the steer he couldn't tie,-- well, he hadn't found him yet. but the boys they knew of an old black steer, a sort of an old outlaw that ran down in the malpais at the foot of a rocky draw. this old black steer had stood his ground with punchers from everywhere; so they bet old bill at two to one that he couldn't quite get there. then bill brought out his old gray hoss, his withers and back were raw, and prepared to tackle the big black brute that ran down in the draw. with his brazen bit and his sam stack tree his chaps and taps to boot, and his old maguey tied hard and fast, bill swore he'd get the brute. now, first bill sort of sauntered round old blackie began to paw, then threw his tail straight in the air and went driftin' down the draw. the old gray plug flew after him, for he'd been eatin' corn; and bill, he piled his old maguey right round old blackie's horns. the old gray hoss he stopped right still; the cinches broke like straw, and the old maguey and the sam stack tree went driftin' down the draw. bill, he lit in a flint rock pile, his face and hands were scratched. he said he thought he could rope a snake but he guessed he'd met his match. he paid his bets like a little man without a bit of jaw, and lowed old blackie was the boss of anything in the draw. there's a moral to my story, boys, and that you all must see. whenever you go to tie a snake,[ ] don't tie it to your tree; but take your dolly welters[ ] 'cordin' to california law, and you'll never see your old rim-fire[ ] go drifting down the draw. [footnote : snake, bad steer.] [footnote : dolly welter, rope tied all around the saddle.] [footnote : rim-fire saddle, without flank girth.] wild rovers come all you wild rovers and listen to me while i retail to you my sad history. i'm a man of experience your favors to gain, oh, love has been the ruin of many a poor man. when you are single and living at your ease you can roam this world over and do as you please; you can roam this world over and go where you will and slyly kiss a pretty girl and be your own still. but when you are married and living with your wife, you've lost all the joys and comforts of life. your wife she will scold you, your children will cry, and that will make papa look withered and dry. you can't step aside, boys, to speak to a friend without your wife at your elbow saying, "what does this mean?" your wife, she will scold and there is sad news. dear boys, take warning; 'tis a life to refuse. if you chance to be riding along the highway and meet a fair maiden, a lady so gay, with red, rosy cheeks and sparkling blue eyes,-- oh, heavens! what a tumult in your bosom will rise! one more request, boys, before we must part: don't place your affections on a charming sweetheart; she'll dance before you your favors to gain. oh, turn your back on them with scorn and disdain! come close to the bar, boys, we'll drink all around. we'll drink to the pure, if any be found; we'll drink to the single, for i wish them success; likewise to the married, for i wish them no less. life in a half-breed shack 'tis life in a half-breed shack, the rain comes pouring down; "drip" drops the mud through the roof, and the wind comes through the wall. a tenderfoot cursed his luck and feebly cried out "yah!" refrain: yah! yah! i want to go home to my ma! yah! yah! this bloomin' country's a fraud! yah! yah! i want to go home to my ma! he tries to kindle a fire when it's forty-five below; he aims to chop at a log and amputates his toe; he hobbles back to the shack and feebly cries out "yah"! he gets on a bucking cayuse and thinks to flourish around, but the buzzard-head takes to bucking and lays him flat out on the ground. as he picks himself up with a curse, he feebly cries out "yah"! he buys all the town lots he can get in the wrong end of calgary, and he waits and he waits for the boom until he's dead broke like me. he couldn't get any tick so he feebly cries out "yah"! he couldn't do any work and he wouldn't know how if he could; so the police run him for a vag and set him to bucking wood. as he sits in the guard room cell, he feebly cries out "yah"! come all ye tenderfeet and listen to what i say, if you can't get a government job you had better remain where you be. then you won't curse your luck and cry out feebly "yah"! the road to cook's peak if you'll listen a while i'll sing you a song, and as it is short it won't take me long. there are some things of which i will speak concerning the stage on the road to cook's peak. on the road to cook's peak,-- on the road to cook's peak,-- concerning the stage on the road to cook's peak. it was in the morning at eight-forty-five, i was hooking up all ready to drive out where the miners for minerals seek, with two little mules on the road to cook's peak-- on the road to cook's peak,-- on the road to cook's peak,-- with two little mules on the road to cook's peak. with my two little mules i jog along and try to cheer them with ditty and song; o'er the wide prairie where coyotes sneak, while driving the stage on the road to cook's peak. on the road to cook's peak,-- on the road to cook's peak,-- while driving the stage on the road to cook's peak. sometimes i have to haul heavy freight, then it is i get home very late. in rain or shine, six days in the week, 'tis the same little mules on the road to cook's peak. on the road to cook's peak,-- on the road to cook's peak,-- 'tis the same little mules on the road to cook's peak. and when with the driving of stage i am through i will to my two little mules bid adieu. and hope that those creatures, so gentle and meek, will have a good friend on the road to cook's peak. on the road to cook's peak,-- on the road to cook's peak,-- will have a good friend on the road to cook's peak. now all kind friends that travel about, come take a trip on the wallis stage route. with a plenty of grit, they never get weak,-- those two little mules on the road to cook's peak. on the road to cook's peak,-- on the road to cook's peak,-- those two little mules on the road to cook's peak. araphoe, or buckskin joe 'twas a calm and peaceful evening in a camp called araphoe, and the whiskey was a running with a soft and gentle flow, the music was a-ringing in a dance hall cross the way, and the dancers was a-swinging just as close as they could lay. people gathered round the tables, a-betting with their wealth, and near by stood a stranger who had come there for his health. he was a peaceful little stranger though he seemed to be unstrung; for just before he'd left his home he'd separated with one lung. nearby at a table sat a man named hankey dean, a tougher man says hankey, buckskin chaps had never seen. but hankey was a gambler and he was plum sure to lose; for he had just departed with a sun-dried stack of blues. he rose from the table, on the floor his last chip flung, and cast his fiery glimmers on the man with just one lung. "no wonder i've been losing every bet i made tonight when a sucker and a tenderfoot was between me and the light. look here, little stranger, do you know who i am?" "yes, and i don't care a copper colored damn." the dealers stopped their dealing and the players held their breath; for words like those to hankey were a sudden flirt with death. "listen, gentle stranger, i'll read my pedigree: i'm known on handling tenderfeet and worser men than thee; the lions on the mountains, i've drove them to their lairs; the wild-cats are my playmates, and i've wrestled grizzly bears; "why, the centipedes can't mar my tough old hide, and rattle snakes have bit me and crawled off and died. i'm as wild as the horse that roams the range; the moss grows on my teeth and wild blood flows through my veins. "i'm wild and woolly and full of fleas and never curried below the knees. now, little stranger, if you'll give me your address,-- how would you like to go, by fast mail or express?" the little stranger who was leaning on the door picked up a hand of playing cards that were scattered on the floor. picking out the five of spades, he pinned it to the door and then stepped back some twenty paces or more. he pulled out his life-preserver, and with a "one, two, three, four," blotted out a spot with every shot; for he had traveled with a circus and was a fancy pistol shot. "i have one more left, kind sir, if you wish to call the play." then hanke stepped up to the stranger and made a neat apology, "why, the lions in the mountains,--that was nothing but a joke. never mind about the extra, you are a bad shooting man, and i'm a meek little child and as harmless as a lamb." rounded up in glory i have been thinking to-day, as my thoughts began to stray, of your memory to me worth more than gold. as you ride across the plain, 'mid the sunshine and the rain,-- you will be rounded up in glory bye and bye. chorus: you will be rounded up in glory bye and bye, you will be rounded up in glory bye and bye, when the milling time is o'er and you will stampede no more, when he rounds you up within the master's fold. as you ride across the plain with the cowboys that have fame, and the storms and the lightning flash by. we shall meet to part no more upon the golden shore when he rounds us up in glory bye and bye. may we lift our voices high to that sweet bye and bye, and be known by the brand of the lord; for his property we are, and he will know us from afar when he rounds us up in glory bye and bye. the drunkard's hell it was on a cold and stormy night i saw and heard an awful sight; the lightning flashed and thunder rolled around my poor benighted soul. i thought i heard a mournful sound among the groans still lower down, that awful sight no tongue can tell is this,--the place called drunkard's hell. i thought i saw the gulf below where all the dying drunkards go. i raised my hand and sad to tell it was the place called drunkard's hell. i traveled on and got there at last and started to take a social glass; but every time i started,--well, i thought about the drunkard's hell. i dashed it down to leave that place and started to seek redeeming grace. i felt like paul, at once i'd pray till all my sins were washed away. i then went home to change my life and see my long neglected wife. i found her weeping o'er the bed because her infant babe was dead. i told her not to mourn and weep because her babe had gone to sleep; its happy soul had fled away to dwell with christ till endless day. i taken her by her pale white hand, she was so weak she could not stand; i laid her down and breathed a prayer that god might bless and save her there. i then went to the temperance hall and taken a pledge among them all. they taken me in with a willing hand and taken me in as a temperance man. so seven long years have passed away since first i bowed my knees to pray; so now i live a sober life with a happy home and a loving wife. rambling boy i am a wild and roving lad, a wild and rambling lad i'll be; for i do love a little girl and she does love me. "o willie, o willie, i love you so, i love you more than i do know; and if my tongue could tell you so i'd give the world to let you know." when julia's old father came this to know,-- that julia and willie were loving so,-- he ripped and swore among them all, and swore he'd use a cannon ball. she wrote willie a letter with her right hand and sent it to him in the western land. "oh, read these lines, sweet william dear. for this is the last of me you will hear." he read those lines while he wept and cried, "ten thousand times i wish i had died", he read those lines while he wept and said, "ten thousand times i wish i were dead." when her old father came home that night he called for julia, his heart's delight, he ran up stairs and her door he broke and found her hanging by her own bed rope. and with his knife he cut her down, and in her bosom this note he found saying, "dig my grave both deep and wide and bury sweet willie by my side." they dug her grave both deep and wide and buried sweet willie by her side; and on her grave set a turtle dove to show the world they died for love. brigham young. i. i'll sing you a song that has often been sung about an old mormon they called brigham young. of wives he had many who were strong in the lungs, which brigham found out by the length of their tongues. ri tu ral, lol, lu ral. oh, sad was the life of a mormon to lead, yet brigham adhered all his life to his creed. he said 'twas such fun, and true, without doubt, to see the young wives knock the old ones about. ri tu ral, lol, lu ral. one day as old brigham sat down to his dinner he saw a young wife who was not getting thinner; when the elders cried out, one after the other, by the holy, she wants to go home to her mother. ri tu ral, lol, lu ral. old brigham replied, which can't be denied, he couldn't afford to lose such a bride. then do not be jealous but banish your fears; for the tree is well known by the fruit that it bears. ri tu ral, lol, lu ral. that i love one and all you very well know, then do not provoke me or my anger will show. what must be our fate if found here in a row, if uncle sam comes with his row-de-dow-dow. ri tu ral, lol, lu ral. then cease all your quarrels and do not despair, to meet uncle sam i will quickly prepare. hark! i hear yankee doodle played over the hills! ah! here's the enemy with their powder and pills. ri tu ral, lol, lu ral. brigham young. ii. now brigham young is a mormon bold, and a leader of the roaring rams, and shepherd of a lot of fine tub sheep and a lot of pretty little lambs. oh, he lives with his five and forty wives, in the city of the great salt lake, where they breed and swarm like hens on a farm and cackle like ducks to a drake. chorus:-- oh brigham, brigham young, it's a miracle how you survive, with your roaring rams and your pretty little lambs and your five and forty wives. number forty-five is about sixteen, number one is sixty and three; and they make such a riot, how he keeps them quiet is a downright mystery to me. for they clatter and they chaw and they jaw, jaw, jaw, and each has a different desire; it would aid the renown of the best shop in town to supply them with half they desire. now, brigham young was a stout man once, and now he is thin and old; and i am sorry to state he is bald on the pate, which once had a covering of gold. for his oldest wives won't have white wool, and his young ones won't have red, so, with tearing it out, and taking turn about, they have torn all the hair off his head. now, the oldest wives sing songs all day, and the young ones all sing songs; and amongst such a crowd he has it pretty loud,-- they're as noisy as chinese gongs. and when they advance for a mormon dance he is filled with the direst alarms; for they are sure to end the night in a tabernacle fight to see who has the fairest charms. now, if any man here envies brigham young let him go to the great salt lake; and if he has the leisure to enjoy his pleasure, he'll find it a great mistake. one wife at a time, so says my rhyme, is enough,--there's no denial;-- so, before you strive to be lord of forty-five, take two for a month on trial. the old gray mule i am an old man some sixty years old and that you can plain-li see, but when i was a young man ten years old they made a stable boy of me. i have seen the fastest horses that made the fastest time, but i never saw one in all my life like that old gray mule of mine. on a sunday morn i dress myself, a-goin' out to ride; now, my old mule is as gray as a bird, then he is full of his pride. he never runs away with you, never cuts up any shine; for the only friend i have on earth is this old gray mule of mine. now my old gray mule is dead and gone, gone to join the heavenly band, with silver shoes upon his feet to dance on the golden strand. the fools of forty-nine when gold was found in forty-eight the people thought 'twas gas, and some were fools enough to think the lumps were only brass. but soon they all were satisfied and started off to mine; they bought their ships, came round the horn, in the days of forty-nine. refrain: then they thought of what they'd been told when they started after gold,-- that they never in the world would make a pile. the people all were crazy then, they didn't know what to do. they sold their farms for just enough to pay their passage through. they bid their friends a long farewell, said, "dear wife, don't you cry, i'll send you home the yellow lumps a piano for to buy." the poor, the old, and the rotten scows were advertised to sail from new orleans with passengers, but they must pump and bail. the ships were crowded more than full, and some hung on behind, and others dived off from the wharf and swam till they were blind. with rusty pork and stinking beef and rotten, wormy bread! the captains, too, that never were up as high as the main mast head! the steerage passengers would rave and swear that they'd paid their passage and wanted something more to eat beside bologna sausage. they then began to cross the plain with oxen, hollowing "haw." and steamers then began to run as far as panama. and there for months the people staid, that started after gold, and some returned disgusted with the lies that had been told. the people died on every route, they sickened and died like sheep; and those at sea before they died were launched into the deep; and those that died while crossing the plains fared not so well as that, for a hole was dug and they thrown in along the miserable platte. the ships at last began to arrive and the people began to inquire. they say that flour is a dollar a pound, do you think it will be any higher? and to carry their blankets and sleep outdoors, it seemed so very droll! both tired and mad, without a cent, they damned the lousy hole. a ripping trip[ ] you go aboard a leaky boat and sail for san francisco, you've got to pump to keep her afloat, you've got that, by jingo! the engine soon begins to squeak, but nary a thing to oil her; impossible to stop the leak,-- rip, goes the boiler. the captain on the promenade looking very savage; steward and the cabin maid fightin' 'bout the cabbage; all about the cabin floor passengers lie sea-sick; steamer bound to go ashore,-- rip, goes the physic. pork and beans they can't afford, the second cabin passengers; the cook has tumbled overboard with fifty pounds of sassengers; the engineer, a little tight, bragging on the mail line, finally gets into a fight,-- rip, goes the engine. [footnote : to tune of _pop goes the weasel_.] the happy miner i'm a happy miner, i love to sing and dance. i wonder what my love would say if she could see my pants with canvas patches on my knees and one upon the stern? i'll wear them when i'm digging here and home when i return. refrain: so i get in a jovial way, i spend my money free. and i've got plenty! will you drink lager beer with me? she writes about her poodle dog; but never thinks to say, "oh, do come home, my honey dear, i'm pining all away." i'll write her half a letter, then give the ink a tip. if that don't bring her to her milk i'll coolly let her rip. they wish to know if i can cook and what i have to eat, and tell me should i take a cold be sure and soak my feet. but when they talk of cooking i'm mighty hard to beat, i've made ten thousand loaves of bread the devil couldn't eat. i like a lazy partner so i can take my ease, lay down and talk of golden home, as happy as you please; without a thing to eat or drink, away from care and grief,-- i'm fat and sassy, ragged, too, and tough as spanish beef. no matter whether rich or poor, i'm happy as a clam. i wish my friends at home could look and see me as i am. with woolen shirt and rubber boots, in mud up to my knees, and lice as large as chili beans fighting with the fleas. i'll mine for half an ounce a day, perhaps a little less; but when it comes to china pay i cannot stand the press. like thousands there, i'll make a pile, if i make one at all, about the time the allied forces take sepasterpol. the california stage company there's no respect for youth or age on board the california stage, but pull and haul about the seats as bed-bugs do about the sheets. refrain: they started as a thieving line in eighteen hundred and forty-nine; all opposition they defy, so the people must root hog or die. you're crowded in with chinamen, as fattening hogs are in a pen; and what will more a man provoke is musty plug tobacco smoke. the ladies are compelled to sit with dresses in tobacco spit; the gentlemen don't seem to care, but talk on politics and swear. the dust is deep in summer time, the mountains very hard to climb, and drivers often stop and yell, "get out, all hands, and push up hill." the drivers, when they feel inclined, will have you walking on behind, and on your shoulders lug a pole to help them out some muddy hole. they promise when your fare you pay, "you'll have to walk but half the way"; then add aside, with cunning laugh, "you'll have to push the other half." new national anthem my country, 'tis of thee, land where things used to be so cheap, we croak. land of the mavericks, land of the puncher's tricks, thy culture-inroad pricks the hide of this peeler-bloke. some of the punchers swear that what they eat and wear takes all their calves. others vow that they eat only once a day jerked beef and prairie hay washed down with tallow salves. these salty-dogs[ ] but crave to pull them out the grave just one kiowa spur. they know they still will dine on flesh and beef the time; but give us, lord divine, one "hen-fruit stir."[ ] our father's land, with thee, best trails of liberty, we chose to stop. we don't exactly like so soon to henceward hike, but hell, we'll take the pike if this don't stop. [footnote : cowboy dude.] [footnote : pancake.] our old nursery rhymes the original tunes harmonized by alfred moffat illustrated by h. willebeek le mair augener ltd. london for the book trade a. & c. black london g. schirmer new york [illustration] copyright, , by augener limited contents page pussy cat, pussy cat mary had a little lamb sing a song of sixpence little jack horner ding dong bell three blind mice here we go round the mulberry bush three little kittens pat-a-cake mary, mary, quite contrary lucy locket i love little pussy baa, baa, black sheep humpty dumpty o where is my little dog gone? georgy-porgy little miss muffet dickory, dickory dock girls and boys come out to play jack and jill yankee doodle twinkle, twinkle, little star little bo-peep oranges and lemons ride a cock horse what are little boys made of? there was a little man little boy blue polly put the kettle on hush-a-by baby [illustration] pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been? [music] "pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?" "i've been to london to see the new queen." "pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there?" "i caught a little mouse under her chair." [illustration] mary had a little lamb. [music] mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow, and ev'rywhere that mary went the lamb was sure to go. he followed her to school one day, that was against the rule. it made the children laugh and play to see a lamb at school. . so the teacher turned him out but still he lingered near, and waited patiently about till mary did appear; and then he ran to her and laid his head upon her arm as if he said "i'm not afraid, you'll keep me from all harm." . "what makes the lamb love mary so?" the eager children cry, "o, mary loves the lamb you know," the teacher did reply; "and you each gentle animal in confidence may bind, and make them follow at your call if you are always kind." [illustration] sing a song of sixpence. [music] sing a song of sixpence a pocket full of rye; four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie; when the pie was open'd the birds began to sing, oh, was not that a dainty dish to set before the king. . the king was in his counting-house counting out his money, the queen was in the parlour eating bread and honey; the maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes, there came a little blackbird and pecked off her nose. [illustration] little jack horner. [music] little jack horner sat in a corner eating his christmas pie; he put in his thumb and pulled out a plum and said "what a good boy am i!" [illustration] ding dong bell. [music] ding dong bell! pussy's in the well! who put her in? little tommy green. who pulled her out? little tommy stout. what a naughty boy was that to drown poor pussycat, who ne'er did any harm, but killed all the mice in father's barn. [illustration] three blind mice. [music] three blind mice, see how they run! they all ran after the farmer's wife, who cut off their tails with a carving knife, did you ever hear such a tale in your life, as three blind mice! [illustration] the mulberry bush. [music] here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush; here we go round the mulberry bush on a cold and frosty morning. verse . this is the way we wash our hands we wash our hands we wash our hands this is the way we wash our hands on a cold and frosty morning. verse . . sing: "dry our hands" "clap our hands" "warm our hands" [illustration] the three little kittens. [music] . three little kittens they lost their mittens, and they began to cry, "oh, mammy dear! we sadly fear, our mittens we have lost." "what! lost your mittens, you naughty kittens, then you shall have no pie." miew, miew, miew, miew. . three little kittens they found their mittens, and they began to cry, "oh, mammy dear! see here, see here! our mittens we have found." "what! found your mittens, you little kittens, then you shall have some pie." purr, purr, purr, rr-rr. . the three little kittens put on their mittens and soon ate up the pie, "oh, mammy dear! we greatly fear, our mittens we have soiled." "what! soiled your mittens, you naughty kittens," then they began to sigh, miew, miew, miew, miew, miew, miew, miew. . the three little kittens they washed their mittens, and hung them up to dry. "oh, mammy dear! look here, look here! our mittens we have washed." "what! washed your mittens, you darling kittens, but i smell a rat close by. hush, hush! miew, miew, miew, miew, miew." [illustration] pat-a-cake. [music] pat-a-cake pat-a-cake, baker's man! that i will master as quick as i can prick it and nick it and mark it with t and there will be plenty for baby and me for baby and me for baby and me and there will be plenty for baby and me. [illustration] mary, mary, quite contrary. [music] "mary, mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?" "with silver bells and cockle-shells, and pretty maids all in a row." [illustration] lucy locket. [music] lucy locket lost her pocket kitty fisher found it but ne'er a penny was there in't except the binding round it. [illustration] i love little pussy. [music] . i love little pussy, her coat is so warm and if i don't hurt her, she'll do me no harm. . so i'll not pull her tail, or drive her away; but pussy and i together will play. . she will sit by my side and i'll give her some food; and she'll like me because i'm gentle and good. [illustration] baa! baa! black sheep. [music] "baa! baa! black sheep, have you any wool?" "yes, marry have i, three bags full; one for my master, and one for my dame, but none for the little boy that cries in the lane!" [illustration] humpty dumpty. [music] humpty dumpty sat on a wall, humpty dumpty had a great fall. all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put humpty dumpty together again. [illustration] oh where, oh where is my little dog gone. [music] oh where, oh where is my little dog gone oh where, oh where can he be? with his ears cut short and his tail cut long oh where, oh where is he? [illustration: copyright , by augener ltd.] georgy-porgy. [music] georgy-porgy puddinggy pie; kissed the girls and made them cry; when the boys came out to play georgy-porgy ran away. [illustration: copyright , by augener ltd.] little miss muffet. [music] little miss muffet, she sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and whey; down came a spider, which sat down beside her and frightened miss muffet away. [illustration: copyright , by augener ltd.] dickory, dickory, dock. [music] . dickory, dickory, dock! the mouse ran up the clock the clock struck one, the mouse ran down dickory, dickory, dock! . dickory, dickory, dare! the pig flew up in the air the man in brown soon brought him down, dickory, dickory, dare. [illustration: copyright , by augener ltd.] girls and boys come out to play. [music] girls and boys come out to play, the moon doth shine as bright as day leave your supper and leave your sleep and join your play-fellows down the street. come with a whoop and come with a call and come with a good-will or not at all up the ladder and down the wall a half penny loaf will serve us all. [illustration] jack and jill. [music] jack and jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water; jack fell down and broke his crown, and jill came tumbling after. [illustration] yankee-doodle. [music] . yankee doodle came to town, upon a little pony, he stuck a feather in his cap and called it macaroni. yankee doodle, doodle do, yankee doodle dandy; all the lassies are so smart, and sweet as sugar candy. . marching in and marching out, and marching round the town, o! here there comes a regiment with captain thomas brown, o! yankee doodle, &c. . yankee doodle is a tune that comes in mighty handy; the enemy all runs away at yankee doodle dandy. yankee doodle &c. [illustration] twinkle, twinkle, little star. [music] . twinkle, twinkle, little star how i wonder what you are: up above the world so high like a diamond in the sky when the blazing sun is gone when he nothing shines upon, then you show your little light, twinkle, twinkle, all the night. . then the traveller in the dark thanks you for your little spark, he could not see which way to go if you did not twinkle so. in the dark blue sky you keep, and often through my curtains peep, for you never shut your eye till the sun is in the sky. [illustration] little bo-peep. [music] little bo-peep has lost her sheep, and can't tell where to find them: leave them alone, and they'll come home and bring their tails behind them. . little bo-peep fell fast asleep and dreamt she heard them bleating. but when she awoke, she found it a joke. for they were still a-fleeting. . she took up her crook, intending to look, determined for to find them; she found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed for they'd left their tails behind them. . she heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye and ran over hill and dale, o! and tried what she could, as a shepherdess should, to tack to each sheep its tail, o! [illustration] oranges and lemons. [music] "oranges and lemons," say the bells of st. clements; "you owe me five farthings," say the bells of st. martins; "when will you pay me?" say the bells of old bailey; "when i grow rich," say the bells of shoreditch; "when will that be?" say the bells of stepney; "i do not know," says the great bell of bow; here comes a candle to light you to bed, and here comes a chopper to chop off your head! [illustration] ride a cock-horse. [music] ride a cock-horse to banbury cross, to see a fine lady ride on a white horse; with rings on her fingers and bells on her toes so she shall have music wherever she goes. [illustration] what are little boys made of? [music] . what are little boys made of, made of? what are little boys made of? frogs and snails and puppy dog's tails, and such are little boys made of. chorus. frogs and snails and puppy dog's tails, and such are little boys made of. . what are little girls made of, made of? what are little girls made of? sugar and spice and all things nice, and such are little girls made of; sugar and spice and all things nice, and such are little girls made of. . what are our young men made of, made of? what are our young men made of? sighs and leers, and crocodile tears, and such are our young men made of; sighs and leers, and crocodile tears, and such are our young men made of. . what are young women made of, made of? what are young women made of? ribbons and laces, and sweet pretty faces, and such are young women made of; ribbons and laces, and sweet pretty faces, and such are young women made of. [illustration] there was a little man. [music] . there was a little man, and he wooed a little maid, and he said "little maid! will you wed, wed, wed? i have little more to say, then will you? yea, or nay! for least said is soonest mended, ded, ded, ded!" . the little maid replied, (some say a little sighed) but what shall we have to eat, eat, eat? will the love that you're so rich in, put a fire into the kitchen? or the little god of love turn the spit, spit, spit. . the little man replied, (some say a little cried,) for his little heart was filled with sorrow, row; with the little that i have, i will be your little slave, and the rest my little dear we will borrow, row. . thus did the little gent, make the little maid relent, for her little heart began to beat, beat, beat; through his offers were but small, she accepted of them all, now she thanks her little stars for her fate, fate, fate. [illustration] little boy blue. [music] little boy blue, come blow your horn, the sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn. where's the boy that looks after the sheep? he's under the haycock fast asleep. will you wake him? no, not i! for if i do, he'll be sure to cry. [illustration] polly put the kettle on. [music] polly put the kettle on, polly put the kettle on, polly put the kettle on, we'll all have tea. sukey take it off again, sukey take it off again, sukey take it off again, they've all gone away. [illustration] hush-a-by baby. [music] hush-a-by baby on the tree-top, when the wind blows the cradle will rock; when the bough breaks the cradle will fall; down comes baby, cradle and all! [illustration] printed by edmund evans, ltd., rose place, globe road, london, e. [transcriber's note: obvious printer errors, as well as spelling and punctuation inconsistencies, have been corrected without note. if you would like to see and hear the music, go to the html version of this e-book.] none generously made available by the internet archive/american libraries.) southern war songs [illustration: the southern cross battle flag designed by gen. joseph e. johnston. the stars and bars. flag adopted by the confederate congress in . battle flag adopted by the confederate congress in .] southern war songs. camp-fire, patriotic and sentimental. collected and arranged by w. l. fagan _illustrated._ new york m. t. richardson & co. . copyrighted by m. t. richardson. . _preface._ _the war songs of the south are a part of the history of the lost cause. they are necessary to the impartial historian in forming a correct estimate of the animus of the southern people._ _emotional literature is always a correct exponent of public sentiment, and these songs index the passionate sincerity of the south at the time they were written._ _poetic merit is not claimed for all of them; still each one embodies either a fact or a principle. written in an era of war, when the public mind was thoroughly aroused, some may now appear harsh and vindictive. eight millions of people read and sang them. this fact alone warrants their collection and preservation._ _a greater number of the songs have been gathered from southern newspapers. the task has been laborious, but still a labor of love, as no work of this kind has before been offered to the public._ _thanks are due mr. henri wehrman, of new orleans, for permission to use valuable copyrights, also to the oliver ditson co., boston; a. e. blackmar, new orleans; and j. c. schreiner, savannah, ga. mr. g. n. galloway, philadelphia, has given material assistance._ _the work is not complete, still the compiler claims for it the largest and only collection of confederate songs published._ _w. l. fagan._ _havana, ala., december , ._ list of engravings. _page_ "_a flash from the edge of a hostile trench_," "_and his life-blood is ebbing and splashing_," "_arise to thy lattice, the moon is asleep_," "_come back to me, my darling son, and light my life again_," _confederate note_, "_farewell to earth and all its beauteous bloom_," "_for i know there is no other e'er can be so dear to me_," _general j. e. b. stuart_, _general lee_, "_he faintly smiled and waved his hand_," "_he's in the saddle now_," "_* * * how mellow the light showers down on that brow_," "_i am thinking of the soldier as the evening shadows fall_," "_i'm a good old rebel_," "_i marched up midout fear_," "_jack morgan_," "_knitting for the soldiers! matron--merry maid_," "_knitting for the soldiers! wrinkled--aged crone_," "_lady, i go to fight for thee_," "_lying in the shadow, underneath the trees_," "_massa_," "_massa run, aha_," "_my right arm bared for fiercer play_," "_no matter should it rain or snow, that bugler is bound to blow_," "_only a list of the wounded and dead_," "_so we'll bury 'old logan' to-night_," "_the bonnie blue flag that bears a single star_," "_the hero boy lay dying_," "_then gallop by ravine and rocks_," "_there's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread_," "_though fifteen summers scarce have shed their blossoms on thy brow_," "_three acres i_," "_thy steed is impatient his mistress to bear_," "_we'll one day meet again_," "_when the stars are softly smiling * * * then i think of thee and heaven_," southern war songs. god save the south.[ ] _national hymn._ words by george h. miles; music by c. w. a. ellerbrock; permission of a. e. blackmar. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass, owner of the copyright.] god save the south, god save the south, her altars and firesides, god save the south, now that the war is nigh, chanting our battle-cry freedom or death. chorus--now that the war is nigh, now that we arm to die, chanting the battle cry, freedom or death. god be our shield, at home or afield, stretch thine arm over us, strengthen and save. what tho' they're three to one, forward each sire and son, strike till the war is won, strike to the grave. chorus. god made the right, stronger than _might_, millions would trample us down in their pride. lay _thou_ their legions low, roll back the ruthless foe, let the proud spoiler know god's on our side. chorus. hark honor's call, summoning all, summoning all of us unto the strife. sons of the south awake! strike till the brand shall break, strike for dear honor's sake, freedom and life. chorus. _rebels_ before, our fathers of yore, _rebels_ the righteous name _washington_ bore. why, then be our's the same, the name that he snatch'd from shame, making it first in fame, foremost in war. chorus. war to the hilt, their's be the guilt, who fetter the freeman, to ransom the slave. up, then, and undismayed, sheathe not the battle blade till the last foe is laid low in the grave! chorus. god save the south, god save the south, dry the dim eyes that now follow our path. still let the light feet rove safe through the orange grove; still keep the land we love safe from _thy_ wrath. chorus. god save the south, god save the south, her altars and firesides, god save the south! for the great war is nigh, and we will win or die, chanting our battle cry, freedom or death. chorus. "allons enfans." _the southern marseillaise._ by a. e. blackmar, new orleans, . [the music of this song can be obtained of oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] sons of the south awake to glory, a thousand voices bid you rise, your children, wives and grandsires hoary, gaze on you now with trusting eyes, gaze on you now with trusting eyes; your country ev'ry strong arm calling, to meet the hireling northern band that comes to desolate the land with fire and blood and scenes appalling, to arms, to arms, ye brave; th' avenging sword unsheath! march on! march on! all hearts resolved on victory or death. march on! march on! all hearts resolved on victory or death. now, now, the dang'rous storm is rolling, which treacherous brothers madly raise, the dogs of war let loose, are howling and soon our peaceful towns may blaze, and soon our peaceful towns may blaze. shall fiends who basely plot our ruin, unchecked, advance with guilty stride to spread destruction far and wide, with southrons' blood their hands embruing? to arms, to arms, ye brave! th' avenging sword unsheath! march on! march on! all hearts resolved on victory or death, march on! march on! all hearts resolved on victory or death. with needy, starving mobs surrounded, the jealous, blind fanatics dare to offer, in their zeal unbounded, our happy slaves their tender care, our happy slaves their tender care. the south, though deepest wrongs bewailing, long yielded all to union name; but _independence_ now we claim, and all their threats are unavailing. to arms, to arms, ye brave! th' avenging sword unsheath! march on! march on! all hearts resolved on victory or death, march on! march on! all hearts resolved on victory or death. this may be called the rallying song of the confederacy. composed early in , it was sung throughout the south while the soldiers were hurried to virginia with this, the grandest of martial airs, as a benediction. "the southern cross." by st. geo. tucker, of virginia. published in , a few months before the author's death. oh! say can you see, through the gloom and the storms, more bright for the darkness, that pure constellation? like the symbol of love and redemption its form, as it points to the haven of hope for the nation. how radiant each star, as the beacon afar, giving promise of peace, or assurance in war! chorus--'tis the cross of the south, which shall ever remain to light us to freedom and glory again! how peaceful and blest was america's soil, 'til betrayed by the guile of the puritan demon, which lurks under virtue, and springs from its coil to fasten its fangs in the life-blood of freemen. then boldly appeal to each heart that can feel, and crush the foul viper 'neath liberty's heel! chorus. 'tis the emblem of peace, 'tis the day-star of hope, like the sacred _labarum_ that guided the roman; from the shores of the gulf to the delaware's slope, 'tis the trust of the free and the terror of foeman. fling its folds to the air, while we boldly declare the rights we demand or the deeds that we dare! chorus. and if peace should be hopeless and justice denied, and war's bloody vulture should flap its black pinions, then gladly "to arms," while we hurl, in our pride, defiance to tyrants and death to their minions! with our front to the field, swearing never to yield, or return, like the spartan, in death on our shield! chorus--and the cross of the south shall triumphantly wave as the flag of the free or the pall of the brave. the star of the west. _charleston mercury._ "_dixie._" i wish i was in de land o' cotton, old times dair ain't not forgotten-- look away, etc. in dixie land whar i was born in, early on one frosty mornin'-- look away, etc. chorus--den i wish i was in dixie. in dixie land dat frosty mornin', jis 'bout de time de day was dawnin'-- look away, etc. de signal fire from de east bin roarin', rouse up, dixie, no more snorin'-- look away, etc. chorus. dat rocket high a-blazing in de sky, 'tis de sign dat de snobbies am comin' up nigh-- look away, etc. dey bin braggin' long, if we dare to shoot a shot, dey comin' up strong and dey'll send us all to pot, fire away, fire away, lads in gray. chorus. the southron's chant of defiance. by c. a. warfield, kentucky. music by a. e. blackmar. you can never win us back never! never! though we perish on the track of your endeavor; though our corses strew the earth, that smiled upon their birth, and blood pollutes each hearth stone forever! we have risen to a man, stern and fearless; of your curses and your ban we are careless. every hand is on its knife, every gun is pruned for strife, every _palm_ contains a life, high and peerless! you have no such blood as ours for the shedding: in the veins of cavaliers was its heading! you have no such stately men in your "abolition den," to march through foe and fen, nothing dreading! we may fall before the fire of your legions, paid with gold for murderous hire-- bought allegiance; but for every drop you shed, you shall have a mound of dead, and the vultures shall be fed in your regions. but the battle to the strong is not given, while the judge of right and wrong sits in heaven! and the god of david still guides the pebble with his will. there are giants yet to kill-- wrongs unshriven. the dutch volunteer. as sung by harry macarthy in his personation concerts, . it vas in ni orleans city, i first heard der drums und fife, und i vas so full mit lager, dot i care nix for my life. mit a schicken tail stuck in mine hat, i marched up midout fear, und joined der southern army, like a dutche--a volunteer. ven ve vent apoard der steampote, ve told um all good-by, ter vimins wafed der handkerchief, und i pegun to gry. vhen we got to vere de var vas, dey stood us in a row, und learned us ven dey hollered out, vich vay ve have to go. dey loads our guns mit noding, und learn to shoot um right, und charge upon der yankee, ven no yankee vas in sight. my name is yacob schneider, und i yust come here to-night from hood's army up in georgia, ver all de times dey fight. [illustration: "i marched up midout fear."] but, ven i see der yankee coming, _so mad it makes me feel_, dot i jumped apoard der steamer cars, und come down to mopeel. now, all young folks vot goes out dere, to fight your country's foes, take my adfice, brepare yourself pefore out dere you goes. take a couble parrels of sauer-kraut, und lots of schweitzer kase, also, some perloona sausage, und everyting else you please. und ven der pattle commence, kill all der yankees you can, und schump perhind some pig oak-tree, for dot ish der officer's blan. ven der pattle gits vide open, und dem palls dey comes so tick, oh! you tink you must go somewhere, _pecause you vas so sick_. yust lower your knapsack down yer back, und cover up your rear, den you von't get vounded, like dis dutcher volunteer. southern song of freedom. _air--"the minstrel's return."_ a nation has sprung into life beneath the bright cross of the south; and now a loud call to the strife rings out from the shrill bugle's mouth. they gather from morass and mountain, they gather from prairie and mart, to drink, at young liberty's fountain, the nectar that kindles the heart. chorus--then, hail to the land of the pine! the home of the noble and free; a palmetto wreath we'll entwine round the altar of young liberty! our flag, with its cluster of stars, firm fixed in a field of pure blue, all shining through red and white bars, now gallantly flutters in view. the stalwart and brave round it rally, they press to their lips every fold, while the hymn swells from hill and from valley, "be god with our volunteers bold." chorus. th' invaders rush down from the north, our borders are black with their hordes; like wolves for their victims they flock, while whetting their knives and their swords. their watchword is "booty and beauty," their aim is to steal as they go; but, southrons, act up to your duty, and lay the foul miscreants low. chorus. the god of our fathers looks down and blesses the cause of the just; his smile will the patriot crown who tramples his chains in the dust. march, march, southrons! shoulder to shoulder, one heart-throb, one shout for the cause; remember--the world's a beholder, and your bayonets are fixed at your doors! chorus. j. j. h. "call all! call all!" by "georgia." whoop! the doodles have broken loose, roaring round like the very deuce; lice of egypt, a hungry pack,-- after 'em, boys, and drive 'em back. bull dog, terrier, cur, and fice, back to the beggarly land of ice, worry 'em, bite 'em, scratch and tear everybody and everywhere. old kentucky is caved from under, tennessee is split asunder, alabama awaits attack, and georgia bristles up her back. old john brown is dead and gone! still his spirit is marching on,-- lantern-jawed, and legs, my boys, long as an ape's from illinois. want a weapon? gather a brick, club or cudgel, or stone or stick; anything with a blade or butt, anything that can cleave or cut. anything heavy, or hard, or keen! any sort of a slaying machine! anything with a willing mind, and the steady arm of a man behind. want a weapon? why, capture one! every doodle has got a gun, belt, and bayonet, bright and new; kill a doodle, and capture _two_! shoulder to shoulder, son and sire! all, call! all to the feast of fire! mother and maiden, and child and slave, a common triumph or a single grave. _rockingham (va.) register._ another yankee doodle. yankee doodle had a mind to whip the southern traitors, because they didn't choose to live on codfish and potatoes, yankee doodle, doodle-doo, yankee doodle dandy, and to keep his courage up he took a drink of brandy. yankee doodle said he found by all the census figures, that he could starve the rebels out, if he could steal their niggers. yankee doodle, doodle-doo, yankee doodle dandy, and then he took another drink of gunpowder and brandy. yankee doodle made a speech; 'twas very full of feeling; "i fear," says he, "i cannot fight, but i am good at stealing." yankee doodle, doodle-doo, yankee doodle dandy, hurrah for lincoln, he's the boy to take a drop of brandy. yankee doodle drew his sword, and practised all the passes; come, boys, we'll take another drink when we get to manassas. yankee doodle, doodle-doo, yankee doodle dandy, they never reached manassas plain, and never got the brandy. yankee doodle soon found out that bull run was no trifle; for if the north knew how to steal, the south knew how to rifle. yankee doodle, doodle-doo, yankee doodle dandy, 'tis very clear i took too much of that infernal brandy. yankee doodle wheeled about, and scampered off at full run, and such a race was never seen as that he made at bull run. yankee doodle, doodle-doo, yankee doodle dandy, i haven't time to stop just now, to take a drop of brandy. yankee doodle, oh! for shame, you're always intermeddling; let guns alone, they're dangerous things; you'd better stick to peddling. yankee doodle, doodle-doo, yankee doodle dandy. when next i go to bully run i'll throw away the brandy. "ye men of alabama!" by john d. phelan, of montgomery, ala. _air--"ye mariners of england."_ ye men of alabama, awake, arise, awake and rend the coils asunder of this abolition snake. if another fold he fastens-- if this final coil he plies-- in the cold clasp of hate and power, fair alabama dies. though round your lower limbs and waist his deadly coils i see, yet, yet, thank heaven! your head and arms, and good right hand, are free; and in that hand there glistens-- o, god! what joy to feel! a polished blade, full sharp and keen, of tempered state rights' steel. now, by the free-born sires from whose brave loins ye sprung, and by the noble mothers at whose fond breasts ye hung! and by your wives and daughters, and by the ills they dread drive deep that good secession steel right through the monster's head. this serpent abolition has been coiling on for years. we have reasoned, we have threatened, we have begged almost with tears; now, away, away with union, since on our southern soil the only _union_ left us is an anaconda's coil. brave little south carolina will strike the self-same blow, and florida, and georgia, and mississippi, too, and arkansas, and texas; and at the death, i ween, the head will fall beneath the blows of all the brave fifteen. in this, our day of trial, let feuds and factions cease, until above this howling storm we see the sign of peace. let southern men, like brothers, in solid phalanx stand, and poise their spears, and lock their shields to guard their native land. the love that for the union once in our bosoms beat, from insult and from injury has turned to scorn and hate; and the banner of secession, to-day we lift on high, resolved, beneath that sacred flag, to conquer, _or to die_! _montgomery advertiser_, october, . - . _air--"bruce's address."_ sons of the south! from hill and dale, from mountain-top, and lowly vale, arouse ye now! 'tis freedom's wail-- "to arms! to arms!" she cries. strike! for freedom in the dust; strike! to crush proud mammon's lust; strike! remembering _god is just_! thus a freeman dies. southrons! who with beauregard, day and night, keep watch and ward-- southrons! whom the angels guard, strike for liberty! smite the motley hireling throng; smite! as heaven smites the wrong; smite! they fly before the strong, in god and liberty! by your hearth-stones, by your dead, by all the fields where patriots bled, a freeman's home or gory bed let the alternate be. weeping wives and mothers here, sisters, daughters, dear ones near-- seas of blood for every tear, god and liberty! louder swells the battle-cry, flaming sword and flashing eye light the field when freemen die! death or liberty! backward roll your poisonous waves, infidel and ruffian slaves! 'tis heaven's own wrath your blindness braves-- god and liberty! c. washington, d. c. would'st thou have me love thee? by alex. b. meek, mobile, ala. would'st thou have me love thee, dearest, with a woman's proudest heart, which shall ever hold thee nearest shrined in its inmost heart? listen, then! my country's calling on her sons to meet the foe! leave these groves of rose and myrtle; drop thy dreamy harp of love! like young korner--scorn the turtle, when the eagle screams above! dost thou pause? let dastards dally, do thou for thy country fight! 'neath her noble emblem rally-- "god, our country, and our right!" listen! now her trumpets calling on her sons to meet the foe! woman's heart is soft and tender, but 'tis proud and faithful too: shall she be her land's defender? lover! soldier! up and do! seize thy father's ancient falchion, which once flashed as freedom's star! 'til sweet peace--the bow and halcyon-- stilled the stormy strife of war. listen! now thy country's calling on her sons to meet the foe! sweet is love in moonlight bowers! sweet the altar and the flame! sweet the spring-time with her flowers! sweeter far the patriot's name! should the god who smiles above thee, doom thee to a soldier's grave, hearts will break, but fame will love thee, canonized among the brave! listen, then! thy country's calling on her sons to meet the foe! rather would i view thee lying on the last red field of strife, 'mid thy country's heroes dying, than become a dastard's wife! that bugler; or, the upidee song. words by a. g. knight. music by armand. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] the shades of night were falling fast, tra-la-la, tra-la-la, the bugler blows that well-known blast tra-la-la, tra-la-la, no matter should it rain or snow, that bugler he is bound to blow. chorus--up--i--de--i--de--i--di, u--pi--de, u--pi--de, u--pi--de--i--de--i--di, up--i--de--i--di, u--pi--de--i--de--i--di, u--pi--de--u--pi--di, u--pi--de--i--de--i--di. he saw, as in their bunks they lay, tra-la-la, tra-la-la, how soldiers spent the dawning day, tra-la-la, tra-la-la, "there's too much comfort there," said he, "and so i'll blow the 'reveille.'" chorus. in nice log huts he saw the light, of cabin fires, warm and bright, the sight afforded him no heat, and so he sounded the "retreat." upon the fire he saw a pot, of sav'ry viands smoking hot, said he, "they shan't enjoy that stew," then "boots and saddles" loudly blew. [illustration: "no matter should it rain or snow, that bugler he is bound to blow."] they scarce their half cooked meal begin, ere orderly cries out "fall in," then off they march thro' mud and rain, p'raps only to march back again. but soldiers, you were made to fight, to starve all day, and watch all night, and should you chance get bread and meat, that bugler will not let you eat. oh hasten then, that glorious day, when buglers shall no longer play, when we through peace shall be set free, from "tattoo," "taps," and "reveille." address of the women to the southern troops. by mrs. j. t. h. cross. _air--"bruce's address."_ southern men, unsheathe the sword, inland and along the board; backward drive the northern horde-- rush to victory! let your banners kiss the sky, be "the right" your battle cry! be the god of battles nigh-- crown you in the fight! pressing back the tears that start, we behold your hosts depart: saying, with heroic heart, clothe your arms with might! lower the proud oppressor's crest! or, if he should prove the best, dead, not dishonored, rest on the field of blood! we--may god so give us grace!-- sons will rear, to take your place; strong the foeman's steel to face-- strong in heart and hand! death your serried ranks may sweep, proud shall be the tears we weep, sacredly our hearts shall keep memory of your deeds! though our land be left forlorn, spirit of the southern-born, northern rage shall laugh to scorn-- northern hosts defy. he that last is doomed to die shall, with his expiring sigh, send aloft the battle-cry, "god defend the right!" [illustration] rallying song of the virginians. by susan a. tally. _air--"scots, wha hae wi' wallace bled."_ now rouse ye, gallant comrades all, and ready stand, in war's array,-- virginia sounds her battle call, and gladly we obey. our hands upon our trusty swords, our hearts with courage beating high-- we'll fight as once our fathers fought, to conquer or to die! adieu, awhile, to loving eyes, and lips that breathe our names in prayer; to them our holiest thoughts be given, for them our swords we bare! yet linger not when honor calls, nor breathe one sad, regretful sigh,-- defying fate, for love we'll live, or for our country die! no tyrant hand shall ever dare our sacred southern homes despoil, no tyrant foot shall e'er invade our free virginia soil. lo! from her lofty mountain peaks, to plains that skirt the southern seas, we fling her banner to the winds, her motto on the breeze! we hear the roll of stormy drums, we hear the trumpet's call afar! now forward, gallant comrades all, to swell the ranks of war; uplift on high our battle cry, when fiercest rolls the bloody fight, "virginia! for the southern cause, and god defend the right!" pop goes the weasel. from "jack morgan songster." king abraham is very sick, old scott has got the measles, manassas we have now at last-- pop goes the weasel! all around the cobbler's house the monkey chased the people, and after them in double haste, pop goes the weasel! when the night walks in, as black as a sheep, and the hen on her eggs was fast asleep, when into her nest with a serpent's creep, pop goes the weasel! of all the dance that ever was planned, to galvanize the heel and the hand, there's none that moves so gay and grand, as--pop goes the weasel. the mother's farewell. _air--"jeannette and jeannot."_ from "jack morgan songster." you are going to leave me, darling, your country's foes to fight, and though i grieve, i murmur not, i know we're in the right. here's your father's sword and rifle, emulate him in the fight; let no coward stain be on your name, that always has shone bright. then farewell, my loved one, may a widow'd mother's prayer, still shield thy head in battle, and god keep thee in his care; then use your sword and rifle well, ne'er falter in the strife-- you fight for home and freedom, for honor and for life. and when the "stars and bars" float in triumph o'er each band that has driven the invaders back, who dared pollute our land, then come back to me with honor, and a mother's hand shall place the laurel wreath your country gives each victor's brow to grace. we swear. _louisville courier._ kneel, ye southrons, kneel and swear, on your bleeding country's altar, all the tyrants' rage to dare, e'en the cursed tyrants' halter, we swear, we swear, we swear! swear by all the shining stars, swear in blunt old anglo-saxon, to defend the stars and bars hallowed by the blood of jackson, we swear, etc. swear by all the noble deeds, by heroic valor prompted; swear that while our country bleeds, gleaming blades shall not be wanted, we swear, etc. swear our country shall be free; submit to subjugation? never! swear the stars and bars shall be our insignia forever, we swear, etc. freedom's new banner. by dan. e. townsend, _richmond dispatch_, june , . when clouds of oppression o'ershaded the banner that liberty bore, bright stars from the galaxy faded, the day of its splendor was o'er; those stars, in a fresh constellation, a sky in the south now adorn; and blazon throughout all creation that freedom's new banner is born. for the land that's richest in beauty, the homestead of justice and right, whose sons are the foremost in duty, whose daughters are peerless and bright: for brave hearts in battle defending the honor and truth of our cause; for our trust in victorious ending, the welkin rings out its huzzas. our lives and our fortunes enlisted, our honor, our hopes, and our prayers, upholding the act that resisted the wrong of a series of years. may the father in heaven approve us, in this the most sacred of wars; may his hand, to protect, be above us while cheering the stars and the bars. the bonnie blue flag. by harry macarthy. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] we are a band of brothers, and native to the soil, fighting for our liberty, with treasure, blood and toil; and when our rights were threatened, the cry rose near and far, hurrah for the bonnie blue flag, that bears a single star! chorus.--hurrah! hurrah! for southern rights, hurrah! hurrah! for the bonnie blue flag that bears a single star! as long as the union was faithful to her trust, like friends and like brethren kind were we and just; but now when northern treachery attempts our rights to mar, we hoist on high the bonnie blue flag that bears a single star. chorus. first, gallant south carolina nobly made the stand; then came alabama, who took her by the hand; next, quickly mississippi, georgia and florida, all raised on high the bonnie blue flag that bears a single star. chorus. ye men of valor, gather round the banner of the right, texas and fair louisiana, join us in the fight; davis, our loved president, and stephens, statesman rare, now rally round the bonnie blue flag that bears a single star. chorus. [illustration: "the bonnie blue flag that bears a single star."] and here's to brave virginia! the old dominion state, with the young confederacy at length has link'd her fate; impelled by her example, now other states prepare, to hoist on high the bonnie blue flag that bears a single star. chorus. then cheer, boys, raise the joyous shout, for arkansas and north carolina now have both gone out; and let another rousing cheer for tennessee be given, the single star of the bonnie blue flag has grown to be eleven. chorus. then here's to our confederacy, strong we are and brave, like patriots of old, we'll fight our heritage to save; and rather than submit to shame, to die we would prefer, so cheer for the bonnie blue flag that bears a single star. chorus.--hurrah! hurrah! for southern rights, hurrah! hurrah! for the bonnie blue flag has gained the eleventh star! "oh, he's nothing but a soldier." oh, he's nothing but a soldier; he's coming here to-night, for i saw him pass this morning, with his uniform so bright; he was coming in from picket, whilst he sang a sweet refrain, and he kissed his hand at some one, peeping through the window pane. ah! he rode no dashing charger, with black and flowing mane, but his bayonet glistened brightly, as the sun lit up the plain; no waving plume or feather flashed its crimson in the light, he belongs to the light infantry, and came to the war to fight. oh, he's nothing but a soldier, his trust is in his sword, to carve his way to glory through the servile yankee horde; no pompous pageant heralds him, no sycophants attend; in his belt you see his body guard, his tried and trusty friend. oh, he's nothing but a soldier, yet his eyes are very fine, and i sometimes think, when passing, they're peeping into mine; though he's nothing but a soldier--come, let me be discreet-- yet really for a soldier, his toilet's very neat. he has been again to see us, the gentleman in gray, he's called to see us often, our house is on his way; ofttimes he sadly seeks the shade of yonder grove of trees, i watched him once--this soldier--i saw him on his knees. oh, he's nothing but a soldier, but this i know full well. he has a heart of softness, where tender virtues dwell; for once when we were talking, and no one else was near, i saw him very plainly try to hide a starting tear. ah! he's nothing but a soldier; but then its very queer. whenever he is absent i'd much rather have him near; he's gone to meet the foeman, to stay his bloody track, o heaven! shield the soldier; o god! let him come back. southern war-cry. _air--"scots, wha hae."_ countrymen of washington! countrymen of jefferson! by old hick'ry oft led on to death or victory! sons of men who fought and bled, whose blood for you was freely shed, where marion charged and sumpter led, for freeman's rights! from the cowpens' glorious way, southron valor led the fray to yorktown's eventful day, first we were free! at new orleans we met the foe; oppressors fell at every blow; there we laid the usurper low, for maids and wives! who on palo alto's day, 'mid fire and hail at monterey, at buena vista, led the way? "rough-and-ready." southrons all; at freedom's call, for our homes united all, freemen live, or freemen fall! death or liberty! dixie's land. _as sung by the confederate soldier._ away down south in de fields of cotton, cinnamon seed and sandy bottom; look away, look away, look away, look away. den 'way down south in de fields of cotton, vinegar shoes and paper stockings; look away, look away, look away, look away. den i wish i was in dixie's land, oh--oh! oh--oh! in dixie's land i'll take my stand, and live and die in dixie's land, away, away, away, away down south in dixie. pork and cabbage in de pot, it goes in cold and comes out hot; look away, look away, look away, look away. vinegar put right on red beet, it makes them always fit to eat; look away, look away, look away, look away. den i wish i was in dixie's land, oh--oh! oh--oh! in dixie's land i'll take my stand, and live and die in dixie's land, away, away, away, away down south in dixie. elegy on the death of lieut.-col. ch. b. dreux. by james r. randall. permission of henri wehrman, _new orleans, la._ weep, louisiana, weep! thy gallant dead weave the green laurel o'er the undaunted head! fling thy bright banner o'er the breast which bled defending thee! weep, weep, imperial city, deep and wild! weep for thy martyred and heroic child, the young, the brave, the free, the undefiled, ah, weep for him. lo! lo! the wail surgeth from embatteled bands, by yorktown's plains and pensacola's sands, re-echoing to the golden sugar lands, adieu! adieu! the death of honor was the death he craved, to die where weapons clashed and pennons waved, to welcome freedom o'er the opening impetuous grave, and live for aye! his blood had too much lightning to be still, his spirit was the torrent, not the rill, the gods have loved him, and the eternal hill is his at last! he died while yet his chainless eye could roll, flashing the conflagrations of his soul, the rose and mirror of the bold creole, he sleepeth well. lament, lone mother, for his early fate, but, bear thy burden with a hope elate, for thou hast shrined thy jewels in the state, a priceless boon! and thou, sad wife, thy sacred tears belong to the untarnished and immortal throng, for he shall fire the poet's heart and song, in thrilling strains. and the fair virgins of our sunny clime, shall wed their music to the minstrel's rhyme, making his fame melodious for all time; it cannot die. bull run. a parody. at bull run, when the sun was low, each southern face grew pale as snow, while loud as jackdaws rose the crow of yankees boasting terribly! but bull run saw another sight, when, at the deepening shades of night, toward fairfax court house rose the flight of yankees running rapidly. then broke each corps with terror riven, then rushed the steeds from battle driven, for men of battery number seven forsook their red artillery! still on mcdowell's farthest left, the roar of cannon strikes one deaf, where furious abe and fiery jeff contend for death or victory. the panic thickens--off, ye brave! throw down your arms! your bacon save! waive washington, all scruples waive, and fly, with all your chivalry! hurrah! by a mississippian.--_mobile register._ hurrah! for the southern confederate state, with her banner of white, red, and blue; hurrah! for her daughters, the fairest on earth, and her sons, ever loyal and true! hurrah! and hurrah! for her brave volunteers, enlisted for freedom or death; hurrah! for jeff. davis, commander-in-chief, and three cheers for the palmetto wreath! hurrah! for each heart that is right in the cause; that cause we'll protect with our lives; hurrah! for the first one who dies on the field, and hurrah! for each one who survives! hurrah! for the south--shout hurrah! and hurrah! o'er her soil shall no tyrant have sway, in peace or in war we will ever be found "invincible," now and for aye. gathering song. _air--"bonnie blue flag."_ by annie c. ketchum. come, brothers! rally for the right! the bravest of the brave sends forth her ringing battle-cry beside the atlantic wave! she leads the way in honor's path! come, brothers, near and far, come rally 'round the bonnie blue flag that bears a single star! we've borne the yankee trickery, the yankee gibe and sneer, till yankee insolence and pride know neither shame nor fear; but ready now, with shot and steel, their brazen front to mar, we hoist aloft the bonnie blue flag that bears a single star! now georgia marches to the front, and close beside her come her sisters by the mexique sea, with pealing trump and drum! till, answering back from hill and glen, the rallying cry afar, a nation hoists the bonnie blue flag that bears a single star! by every stone in charleston bay, by each beleaguered town, we swear to rest not, night nor day, but hunt the tyrants down! till, bathed in valor's holy blood, the gazing world afar, shall greet with shouts the bonnie blue flag, that bears the cross and star! a southern song. by miss maria grason. while crimson drops our hearthstones stain, and northern despots forge our chain, o god! shall freemen strike in vain? shall tyrants desecrate the sod our fathers hallowed with their blood, or cowards tread where heroes trod? the lowering tempest darkens round; and at the bugle's silvery sound the fiery war-horse spurns the ground. the thunder of his iron tread sweeps o'er the dying and the dead; the trembling earth is blushing red. 'mid wreathing smoke, and flashing steel, and blazing cannons' deafening peal our brave battalions charge and wheel. the maiden sees her lover there! far in the battle's lurid glare he stands, his only shield her prayer. oh, may that warrior in his pride return with honor to her side, or die as old dentatus died! queen anne co., md. a confederate officer to his lady love. maj. mcknight ("asa hartz"), a. a. g., general loring's staff, while a prisoner of war, at johnston's island, wrote the following: my love reposes on a rosewood frame-- a bunk have i; a couch of feathery down fills up the same-- mine's straw, but dry; she sinks to sleep at night with scarce a sigh-- with waking eyes i watch the hours creep by. my love her daily dinner takes in state-- and so do i(?); the richest viands flank her silver plate-- coarse grub have i? pure wines she sips at ease, her thirst to slake-- i pump my drink from erie's limpid lake! [illustration: "three acres i."] my love has all the world at will to roam-- three acres i; she goes abroad or quiet sits at home-- so cannot i; bright angels watch around her couch at night-- a yank, with loaded gun, keeps me in sight. a thousand weary miles do stretch between my love and i; to her, this wintry night, cold, calm, serene, i waft a sigh; and hope, with all my earnestness of soul, to-morrow's mail may bring me my parole! [illustration: "we'll one day meet again."] there's hope ahead! we'll one day meet again, my love and i; we'll wipe away all tears of sorrow then-- her love-lit eye, will all my many troubles then beguile, and keep this wayward reb. from johnston's isle. the southern marseillaise. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] ye men of southern hearts and feeling, arm! arm! your struggling country calls! hear ye the guns now loudly pealing, from sumpter's high embattled walls! shall a fanatic horde in power send forth a base and hireling band to desolate our happy land and make our southern freemen cower? chorus--to arms, to arms! each one, th' sword unsheathe, and raise the gun, then on, rush on, ye brave and free, to death and victory. now clouds of war begin to gather, and black and murky is our sky-- shall we submit--no, never, never! let death or freedom be our cry-- in heaven's justice firm relying, we'll nobly struggle to be free, and bravely gain our liberty, or die our northern foes defying. chorus. the peaceful homes of texas burning, and harper's ferry's blood-stained soil, proclaim how strong their hearts are yearning, for murder, pillage, crime and spoil. shall we our feelings longer smother, and bear with patience yet our wrongs, their jeers, their crimes, their taunts and thongs and greet them still as friend and brother? chorus. their tyranny we'll bear no longer, but burst asunder every tie, although in number they are stronger, we will be free, or we will die! too long the south has wept, bewailing, that falsehood's dagger yankees wield, but freedom is our sword and shield, and all their arts are unavailing. chorus. a southern gathering song. by l. virginia french. _air--"hail columbia."_ sons of the south, beware the foe! hark to the murmur, deep and low, rolling up like the coming storm, swelling up like the sounding storm, hoarse as the hurricanes that brood in space's far infinitude! minute guns of omen boom through the future's folded gloom; sounds prophetic fill the air, heed the warning--and prepare! watch! be wary--every hour mark the foeman's gathering power-- keep watch and ward upon his track and crush the rash invaders back! sons of the brave!--a barrier staunch breasting the alien avalanche-- manning the battlements of right; up, for your _country_, "_god and right_!" form your battalions steadily, and strike for death or victory! surging onward sweeps the wave, serried columns of the brave, banded 'neath the benison of freedom's godlike washington! stand! but should the invading foe aspire to lay your altars low, charge on the tyrant ere he gain your iron-arteried domain! sons of the brave! when tumult trod the tide of revolution--god looked from his throne on "the things of time," and two new stars in the reign of time, he bade to burn in the azure dome-- the freeman's love and the freeman's home! holy of holies! guard them well, baffle the despot's secret spell, and let the chords of life be riven, ere you yield those gifts of heaven! _io paean!_ trumpet notes, shake the air where our banner floats; _io triumphe!_ still we see _the land of the south is the home of the free!_ confederate land. by h. h. strawbridge. states of the south! confederate land! our foe has come--the hour is nigh; his bale-fires rise on every hand-- rise as one man, to do or die! from mountain, vale, and prairie wide, from forest vast, and field, and glen, and crowded city, pour thy tide, oh fervid south! oh patriot men! chorus--up! old and young; the weak, be strong! rise for the right,--hurl back the wrong, and foot to foot, and hand to hand, strike for our own confederate land! make every house, and rock, and tree, and hill, your forts; and fen and flood yield not! our soil shall rather be one waste of flame, one sea of blood! on! though perennial be the strife, for honor dear, for hearthstone fires; give blow for blow! take life for life! "strike! 'till the last armed foe expires!" chorus. we'll be free in maryland. by r. e. holtz. _air--"gideon's band."_ the boys down south in dixie's land, the boys down south in dixie's land, the boys down south in dixie's land will come and rescue maryland. chorus.--if you will join the dixie band, here's my heart and here's my hand, if you will join the dixie band; we're fighting for a home. the northern foes have trod us down, the northern foes have trod us down, the northern foes have trod us down, but we will rise with true renown. chorus. the tyrants they must leave our door, the tyrants they must leave our door, the tyrants they must leave our door, then we'll be free in baltimore. chorus. these hirelings they'll never stand, these hirelings they'll never stand, these hirelings they'll never stand, whenever they see the southern band. chorus. old abe has got into a trap, old abe has got into a trap, old abe has got into a trap, and he can't get out with his scotch cap. chorus. nobody's hurt is easy spun, nobody's hurt is easy spun, nobody's hurt is easy spun, but the yankees caught it at bull run. chorus. we'll rally to jeff davis true, beauregard and johnston, too, magruder, price, and general bragg, and give three cheers for the southern flag. chorus. we'll drink this toast to one and all, keep cocked and primed for the southern call; the day will come, we'll make a stand, then we'll be free in maryland. chorus. january , . [illustration: artillery button.] the southron's war-song. by j. a. waginer. _charleston courier._ arise! arise! with main and might, sons of the sunny clime! gird on the sword; the sacred fight the holy hour doth chime. arise, the craven host draws nigh, in thundering array; arise! ye braves! let cowards fly-- the hero bides the fray. strike hard, strike hard, thou noble band; strike hard with arm of fire! strike hard, for god and fatherland, for mother, wife, and sire! let thunders roar, the lightning flash bold southrons never fear the bay'net's point, the sabre's crash-- true southrons, do and dare! bright flow'rs spring from the hero's grave; the craven knows no rest! thrice curs'd the traitor and the knave! the hero thrice is bless'd. then let each noble southron stand, with bold and manly eye: we'll do for god and fatherland; we'll do, we'll do, or die! knitting for the soldiers. by mary j. upshur. knitting for the soldiers. how the needles fly! now with sounds of merriment-- now with many a sigh! knitting for the soldiers! panoply for feet-- onward, bound to victory! rushing in retreat! knitting for the soldiers! wrinkled--aged crone, plying flying needles by the ember stone. crooning ancient ballads, rocking to and fro, in your sage divining, say where these shall go? jaunty set of stockings, neat from top to toe, march they with the victor? lie with vanquished low? knitting for the soldiers! matron--merry maid, many and many a blessing, many a prayer is said, while the glittering needles fly "around! around!" like to macbeth's witches on enchanted ground. [illustration: "knitting for the soldiers wrinkled--aged crone."] knitting for the soldiers still another pair! and the feet that wear them speed thee onward--where? to the silent city, on their trackless way? homeward--bearing garlands? who of us shall say? [illustration: "knitting for the soldiers! matron--merry maid."] knitting for the soldiers! heaven bless them all! those who win the battle, those who fighting fall. might our benedictions speedily win reply, early would they crown ye all with victory. norfolk, va., october , . patriotic song. by dr. john w. paine, lexington, va., june , . _air--"gathering of the clans."_ rise, rise, mountain and valley men, bald sire and beardless son, each come in order, true loyal patriots, muster and rally, men; drive the invader clear over the border; down from the mountain steep, up from the valley deep, come from the city, the town, and the village, let every loyal heart in the strife take a part, rescue our country from rapine and pillage. rise, rise, etc. men of the valley, descendants of heroes-- heroes whom washington honored and trusted-- heirs of the fame and the hills of your fathers, men who have never been daunted or worsted; long, like all true men, we cherished the union, long did we strive for our country's salvation; now when our very existence is threatened, rush to the rescue without hesitation. rise, rise, etc. say, shall we suffer the ruthless invader o'er our fair valley to marshal his legions? loud calls virginia, let every man aid her-- aid her, and thus show his truth and allegiance. hark to the battle-cry, rush on to victory! banished forever be party and faction; let every loyal man rush to be in the van, led by the dauntless, the conqueror, jackson. rise, rise, etc. --_richmond dispatch._ our braves in virginia. _air--"dixie land."_ we have ridden from the brave southwest, on fiery steeds, with throbbing breast; hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! with sabre flash and rifle true,-- hurrah! hurrah!-- the northern ranks we will cut through, and charge for old virginia, boys; hurrah! hurrah! we have come from the cloud-capp'd mountains, from the land of purest fountains; hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! our sweethearts and wives conjure us,-- hurrah! hurrah! not to leave a foe before us, and strike for old virginia, boys; hurrah! hurrah! then we'll rally to the bugle call; for southern rights we'll fight and fall; hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! our grey-haired sires sternly say,-- hurrah! hurrah! that we must die or win the day, three cheers for old virginia, boys, hurrah! hurrah! then our silken banner wave on high; for southern homes we'll fight and die; hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! our cause is right, our quarrel just,-- hurrah! hurrah! we'll in the god of battles trust, and conquer for virginia, boys, hurrah! hurrah! battle song of the invaded. the foe! the foe! they come! they come! light up the beacon pyre; light every hill and mountain home, give back the signal fire; and wave the red cross on the night, the blood-red cross of war-- what though we perish in the fight! our fathers died before! hark! lo their shouts upon the breeze, their banners in the sun, and like the thunder of the seas their deep tread thunders on. we'll meet them here on each bold height, in every glen make head-- and give the battle to the right; we will be free or dead. we stand on sacred, holy ground, where thousand memories meet; our fathers' homes are all around, their graves beneath our feet; our roofs are mouldering far and wide, that late smiled in the sun; our brides are weeping at our sides; gods! let them then come on! hurrah! hurrah! he gleams in sight; it fires the brain to see how the proud spoiler flashes bright in war's gay panoply; we'll show him that our fathers' brands nor rust nor time can stay; with tramp and shouts, bold hearts and hands, up, freemen, and away! the work is done, the strife is o'er, the whirlwinds thundered by,-- there's not from hill to ocean shore a foeman left to die. our brides are thronging every height, they wave us weeping home; god gives the battle to the right-- back to our hearth-stones, come! the song of the snow. by mrs. m. j. preston, lexington, va. halt! the march is over; day is almost done; loose the cumbrous knapsack, drop the heavy gun. chilled, and worn, and weary, wander to and fro, seeking wood to kindle fires amidst the snow. round the camp-blaze gather, heed not sleep nor cold; ye are spartan soldiers, strong, and brave, and bold. never xerxian army yet subdued a foe, who but asked a blanket on a bed of snow! shivering 'midst the darkness, christian men are found there devoutly kneeling on the frozen ground; pleading for their country in its hour of woe, for its soldiers marching shoeless through the snow! lost in heavy slumbers, free from toil and strife, dreaming of their dear ones-- home, and child, and wife; tentless they are lying, while the fires burn low-- lying in their blankets, 'midst december's snow. a new red, white and blue. written for a lady, by jeff. thompson. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] missouri is the pride of the nation, the hope of the brave and the free; the confederacy will furnish the rations, but the fighting is trusted to thee; for, brave boys, your soil has been noted, and your flag has been trusted to you; for freedom you have not yet voted, but you fight for the red, white and blue. chorus.--three cheers, etc. the stars shall shine bright in the heaven, but the stripes should be trailed in the dust, for they are no longer the sign of the haven of the brave, of the free, or the just; the bars now in triumph shall wave o'er the land of the faithful and true; o'er the home of the southern brave, shall float the new red, white and blue. chorus. war song. come! come! come! come, brothers you are called; come, each one unappalled; come and defend your home! come! come! come! the cannon's belching roar, the musket's deadly pour-- cry, men, defend your home! come! come! come! let the invitation sound, through town and country round, come, men, defend your home! come! come! come! with a prayer to him on high; god grant us victory, while fighting for our home. come! come! come! wait not, lest you live to see your loved ones crushed by tyranny, and desolate your home! all quiet along the potomac to-night. by lamar fontaine. music by j. h. hewett. [the music of this song can be obtained of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] "all quiet along the potomac to-night!" except here and there a stray picket is shot, as he walks on his beat, to and fro, by a rifleman hid in the thicket. 'tis nothing! a private or two now and then will not count in the news of a battle; not an officer lost! only one of the men moaning out, all alone, the death-rattle. "all quiet along the potomac to-night!" where soldiers lie peacefully dreaming; and their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon, and the light of their camp-fires are gleaming. a tremulous sigh, as a gentle night wind through the forest leaves slowly is creeping; while the stars up above, with their glittering eyes, keep guard o'er the army while sleeping. there's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread, as he tramps from rock to the fountain, and thinks of the two on the low trundle bed, far away, in the cot on the mountain. his musket falls slack, his face, dark and grim, grows gentle with memories tender. as he mutters a prayer for the children asleep, and their mother--"may heaven defend her!" [illustration: "there's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread."] the moon seems to shine forth as brightly as then-- that night, when the love, yet unspoken, leaped up to his lips, and when low-murmured vows were pledged to be ever unbroken. then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes, he dashes off tears that are welling; and gathers his gun closer up to his breast, as if to keep down the heart's swelling. [illustration: "and his life-blood is ebbing and splashing."] he passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree, and his footstep is lagging and weary; yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light, towards the shades of the forest so dreary. hark! was it the night-wind that rustled the leaves? was it moonlight so wondrously flashing? it looked like a rifle: "ha, mary, good-by!" and his life-blood is ebbing and splashing. "all quiet along the potomac to-night!" no sound save the rush of the river; while soft falls the dew on the face of the dead, and the picket's off duty forever! "independence day." oh, freedom is a blessed thing! and men have marched in stricken fields, and fought, and bled, to nobly grasp the glorious fruit that freedom yields. then let the banner float the air, the fairest ones of freedom's types-- the stars are fading one by one-- what matter? we have still the stripes! oh! happy men of maryland, remember! we have still the stripes! why heed the cannon in your streets, the bayonets that block your way? rejoice, for you were free men once, and this is, "independence day." then let the banner float the air, the fairest one of freedom's types-- the stars are fading one by one-- what matter? we have still the stripes! oh! happy men of maryland, remember! we have still the stripes! flight of doodles. i come from old manassas, with a pocket full of fun-- i killed forty yankees with a single-barrelled gun; it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor i, big yankee, little yankee, all run or die. i saw all the yankees at bull run, they fought like the devil when the battle first begun, but it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you or i they took to their heels, boys, and you ought to see 'em fly. i saw old fuss-and-feathers scott, twenty miles away, his horses stuck up their ears, and you ought to hear 'em neigh; but it don't make niff-a-stifference to neither you nor i, old scott fled like the devil, boys; root, hog, or die. i then saw a "tiger," from the old crescent city, he cut down the yankees without any pity: oh! it don't make a diff-a-bitterence to neither you nor i, we whipped the yankee boys, and made the boobies cry. i saw south carolina, the first in the cause, shake the dirty yankees till she broke all their jaws; oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor i, south carolina give 'em--boys; root, hog, or die. i saw old virginia, standing firm and true, she fought mighty hard to whip the dirty crew; oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor i, old virginia's blood and thunder, boys; root, hog, or die. i saw old georgia, the next in the van, she cut down the yankees almost to a man; oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor i, georgia's some in a fight, boys; root, hog, or die. i saw alabama in the midst of the storm, she stood like a giant in the contest so warm; oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor i, alabama fought the yankees, boys, till the last one did fly. i saw texas go in with a smile, but i tell you what it is, she made the yankees bile; oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor i, texas is the devil, boys; root, hog, or die. i saw north carolina in the deepest of the battle, she knocked down the yankees and made their bones rattle; oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor i, north carolina's got the grit, boys; root, hog, or die. old florida came in with a terrible shout, she frightened all the yankees till their eyes stuck out; oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor i, florida's death on yankees; root, hog, or die. land of king cotton. by jo. augustine signaigo. _air--"red, white and blue."_ (this was a favorite song of the tennessee troops, but especially of the th and th regiments. memphis _appeal_, dec. , .) oh! dixie, the land of king cotton, "the home of the brave and the free," a nation by freedom begotten, the terror of despots to be; wherever thy banner is streaming, base tyranny quails at thy feet, and liberty's sunlight is beaming, in splendor of majesty sweet. chorus--three cheers for our army so true, three cheers for price, johnson, and lee: beauregard, and our davis forever, the pride of the brave and the free! when liberty sounds her war-rattle, demanding her right and her due, the first land that rallies to battle is dixie, the shrine of the true: thick as leaves of the forest in summer, her brave sons will rise on each plain, and then strike, until each vandal comer lies dead on the soil he would stain. chorus. may the names of the dead that we cherish, fill memory's cup to the brim; may the laurels they've won never perish, "nor star of their glory grow dim;" may the states of the south never sever, but the champions of freedom e'er be; may they flourish confed'rate forever, the boast of the brave and the free. chorus. the southern soldier boy. as sung by miss sallie partington, in the "virginia cavalier," richmond, va., . composed by captain g. w. alexander. _air--"the boy with the auburn hair."_ the sentiments of this song pleased the confederate soldiers, and for more than a year, the new richmond theatre was nightly filled by "blockade rebels," who greeted with wild hurrahs, "miss sallie," the prima donna of the confederacy. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] bob roebuck is my sweetheart's name, he's off to the wars and gone, he's fighting for his nannie dear, his sword is buckled on; he's fighting for his own true love, his foes he does defy; he is the darling of my heart, my southern soldier boy. chorus.--yo! ho! yo! ho! yo! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! he is my only joy, he is the darling of my heart, my southern soldier boy. when bob comes home from war's alarms, we start anew in life, i'll give myself right up to him, a dutiful, loving wife. i'll try my best to please my dear for he is my only joy; he is the darling of my heart my southern soldier boy. chorus.--yo! ho! yo! ho! yo! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! he is my only joy, he is the darling of my heart, my southern soldier boy. oh! if in battle he was slain, i am sure that i should die, but i am sure he'll come again and cheer my weeping eye; but should he fall in this our glorious cause, he still would be my joy for many a sweetheart mourns the loss, of a southern soldier boy. chorus.--yo! ho! yo! ho! yo! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! i'd grieve to lose my joy, but many a sweetheart mourns the loss of a southern soldier boy. i hope for the best, and so do all whose hopes are in the field; i know that we shall win the day, for southrons never yield, and when we think of those that are away, we'll look above for joy, and i'm mighty glad that my bobby is a southern soldier boy. chorus. rebel is a sacred name. written by an inmate of the old capitol prison, washington city. rebel is a sacred name; traitor, too, is glorious; by such names our father's fought-- by them were victorious. chorus--gaily floats our rebel flag over hill and valley-- broad its bars, and bright its stars, calling us to rally. washington a rebel was, jefferson a traitor,-- but their treason won success, and made their glory greater. chorus. o'er our southern sunny strand vandal feet are treading; and the hessians on our land devastation spreading. chorus. can you then inactive be? maidens fair are saying; and their bright eyes shame us out with this long delaying. chorus. rouse ye, children of the free, rally to our streamer; the vandal flag floats o'er our land,-- awaken, southern dreamer! chorus. rebel arms shall win the fight, rebel prayers defend us; rebel maidens greet us home, when tyrants no more rend us. chorus. the young volunteer. words and music by john m. hewett. our flag is unfurl'd and our arms flash bright, as the sun rides up the sky; but ere i join the doubting fight, lovely maid, i would say, "good by." i'm a young volunteer, and my heart is true to the flag that woos the wind; then, three cheers for that flag and our country, too, and the girls we leave behind. chorus.--then adieu! then adieu! 'tis the last bugle's strain that is falling on the ear; should it so be decreed that we ne'er meet again, oh! remember the young volunteer. when over the desert, thro' burning rays, with a heavy heart i tread; or when i breast the cannon's blaze, and bemoan my comrades dead, then, then, i will think of my home and you, and our flag shall kiss the wind; with huzza for our cause and our country, too, and the girls we leave behind. chorus. goober peas. words by a. pender. music by p. nutt. [the music of this song can be obtained of oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] one of the most widely known confederate songs. the melody suited a soldier, and in his gayest mood he rolled out: "peas! peas! peas!" with a gusto that was charming. sitting by the roadside on a summer day, chatting with my messmates, passing time away, lying in the shadow underneath the trees, goodness, how delicious, eating goober peas! chorus.--peas! peas! peas! peas! eating goober peas! goodness, how delicious, eating goober peas! when a horseman passes, the soldiers have a rule, to cry out at their loudest, "mister, here's your mule," but another pleasure enchantinger than these, is wearing out your grinders, eating goober peas! chorus. just before the battle the general hears a row, he says "the yanks are coming, i hear their rifles now," he turns around in wonder, and what do you think he sees? the georgia militia eating goober peas! chorus. [illustration: "lying in the shadow underneath the trees."] i think my song has lasted almost long enough, the subject's interesting, but the rhymes are mighty rough, i wish this war was over, when free from rags and fleas, we'd kiss our wives and sweethearts and gobble goober peas! chorus. our country's call. by h. walther. [permission of henri wehrmann.] to arms! oh! men in all our southern clime, do you not scent the battle from afar, and hear the ringing clash of armor chime, where men have met all panoplied for war? to arms! let not your country call in vain for willing hearts to shield her from the foe, but let the ardor of a patriot's fame brightly within each manly bosom glow. chorus.--but let the ardor of a patriot's fame brightly within each manly bosom glow. to arms! in this, your country's hour of need! behold her beautiful and broad domain, and say, if patriot hearts shall freely bleed to keep it sacred from invasion's stain? to arms! and don the panoply of war, stay not like cowards from the battle-field; but with your armor on, march where the roar of cannon tells you that your brothers bleed! chorus. the trumpet and the clarion sound to arms, the noisy drum in solemn echo beats, and martial music, robed in all her charms, the magic words, to arms! to arms! repeats. to arms! the mortal combat has begun, rush on and fight amidst the deadly fray, nor pause until the work is nobly done, and honor crowns us with her wreath of bay! cannon song. aha! a song for the trumpet's tongue! for the bugle to sing before us, when our gleaming guns, like clarions, shall thunder in battle chorus! where the rifles ring, where the bullets sing, where the black bombs whistle o'er us, with rolling wheel and rattling peal they'll thunder in battle chorus! chorus.--with the cannon's flash, and the cannon's crash, with the cannon's roar and rattle, let freedom's sons, with their shouting guns, go down to their country's battle! their brassy throats shall learn the notes that make old tyrants quiver; till the war is done, or each tyrrell gun grows cold with our hearts forever! where the laurel waves o'er our brothers graves, who have gone to their rest before us here's a requiem shall sound for them and thunder in battle chorus! chorus. by the light that lies in our southern skies, by the spirits that watch above us; by the gentle hands in our summer lands, and the gentle hearts that love us! our father's faith let us keep till death, their fame in its cloudless splendor-- as men who stand for their mother land, and die--but never surrender! chorus. chivalrous c. s. a. _air--"vive la compagnie."_ i'll sing you a song of the south's sunny clime, chivalrous c. s. a.! which went to housekeeping once on a time; bully for c. s. a.! like heroes and princes they lived for a while, chivalrous c. s. a.! and routed the hessians in most gallant style; bully for c. s. a.! chorus.--chivalrous, chivalrous people are they! chivalrous, chivalrous people are they! in c. s. a.! in c. s. a.! aye, in chivalrous c. s. a.! they have a bold leader--jeff. davis his name-- chivalrous c. s. a.! good generals and soldiers, all anxious for fame; bully for c. s. a.! at manassas they met the north in its pride, chivalrous c. s. a.! but they easily put mcdowell aside; bully for c. s. a.! chorus. ministers to england and france, it appears, have gone from the c. s. a.! who've given the north many fleas in its ears, bully for c. s. a.! reminders are being to washington sent, by the chivalrous c. s. a.! that'll force uncle abe full soon to repent, bully for c. s. a.! chorus. oh, they have the finest of musical ears, chivalrous c. s. a.! yankee doodle's too vulgar for them, it appears; bully for c. s. a.! the north may sing it and whistle it still, miserable u. s. a.! three cheers for the south!--now, boys, with a will! and groans for the u. s. a.! chorus. north carolina's war song. _air--"annie laurie."_ we leave our pleasant homesteads, we leave our smiling farms, at the first call of duty we rush at once to arms; we rush at once to arms, to guard our coasts we fly, for the land our mothers lived, on bravely to bleed or die. up, boys, and quit your pleasure, up, men, and quit your toil! the invader's foot must never be pressed upon our soil; be pressed upon our soil, in which our fathers sleep; their blessed graves our care, boys, most sacredly must keep. 'twas in our brave old state, men, that first of all was sung, the thrilling song of freedom that through the land hath rung; that through the land hath rung, and we'll sound its notes once more, till our men and children shout from the mountain to the shore. sweet eyes are filled with tears, men, sweet tears of love and pride, as our wives and sweethearts bid us go meet whate'er betide, go meet whate'er betide, and god our guide shall be, as we drive the foe before us, and rush to victory. the homespun dress. by carrie bell sinclair. _air--"bonnie blue flag."_ oh, yes, i am a southern girl, and glory in the name, and boast it with far greater pride than glittering wealth or fame. we envy not the northern girl, her robes of beauty rare, though diamonds grace her snowy neck, and pearls bedeck her hair. chorus.--hurrah! hurrah! for the sunny south so dear, three cheers for the homespun dress the southern ladies wear! the homespun dress is plain, i know, my hat's palmetto, too; but then it shows what southern girls for southern rights will do. we send the bravest of our land, to battle with the foe, and we will lend a helping hand-- we love the south, you know. chorus. now northern goods are out of date; and since old abe's blockade, we southern girls can be content with goods that's southern made. we send our sweethearts to the war; but, dear girls; never mind-- your soldier-love will ne'er forget the girl he left behind. chorus. the soldier is the lad for me-- a brave heart i adore; and when the sunny south is free, and when fighting is no more, i'll choose me then a lover brave, from out that gallant band. the soldier lad i love the best shall have my heart and hand. chorus. the southern land's a glorious land, and has a glorious cause; then cheer, three cheers for southern rights, and for the southern boys! we scorn to wear a bit of silk, a bit of northern lace, but make our homespun dresses up, and wear them with a grace. chorus. and now, young man, a word to you: if you would win the fair, go to the field where honor calls, and win your lady there. remember that our brightest smiles are for the true and brave, and that our tears are all for those who fill a soldier's grave. chorus. the banner song. by james b. marshall. up, up with the banner, the foe is before us, his bayonets bristle, his sword is unsheathed, charge, charge on his line with harmonious chorus, for the prayers go with us that beauty has breathed. he fights for the power of despot and plunder, while we are defending our altars and homes; he has riven the firmly knit union asunder, and to bind it with tyranny's fetters he comes, like the prophet mokanna, whose veil so resplendent, his monstrous deformity closely concealed; duplicity marks lincoln's course, and dependent on falsehood is every fair promise revealed. when that veil shall be raised, freedom's last feast be taken, a banquet to which all his followers will crowd; oh, horror of horrors! who can view it unshaken? without sense they will sit all in suppliance bowed! we do not forget that they once were our brothers, that we sat in our boyhood around the same board, that our heart's best idolatry blest the same mothers, and to the same fathers libations we poured. we rallied around the same star-spangled standard, when called to the field by the tocsin of war, but they from our side have unfeelingly wandered, and we strip from our flag every recusant star. they have forced us to stand by our own constitution, to defend our lov'd homesteads, our altars and fires, while they tamely submit to a tyrant's pollution, beneath whose foul tread their own freedom expires. then up with the banner, its broad stripes wide flowing, 'tis the emblem of liberty--flag of the free; let it wave us to triumph, and every heart glowing, nerve each arm's bravest blows for its lov'd tennessee. the volunteer. permission of h. wehrman. arranged by j. c. viereck. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] the hour was sad, i left the maid, a lingering farewell taking; her sighs and tears my steps delayed, i thought her heart was breaking. in hurried words her name i blessed, i breathed the vows that bind me, and to my heart in anguish pressed the girl i left behind me. then to the east we bore away to win a name in story, and, there, where dawns the sun of day, there dawned our sun of glory. both blazed in noon on manassas' plain, where, in the post assigned me, i shared the glory of that fight-- sweet girl i left behind me! full many a name our banners bore of former deeds of daring-- but they were of the days of yore, in which we had no sharing; but now, our laurels freshly won, with the old ones shall entwin'd be, still worthy of our sires, each son, sweet girl i left behind me! the hope of final victory within my bosom burning, is mingling with sweet thoughts of thee, and of my fond returning. but should i ne'er return again, still worth thy love thou'lt find me, dishonor's breath shall never stain the name i leave behind me. reading the list. "is there any news of the war?" she said; "only a list of the wounded and dead," was the man's reply, without lifting his eye to the face of the woman standing by. "'tis the very thing i want," she said; "read me a list of the wounded and dead." he read the list--'twas a sad array of the wounded and killed in the fatal fray; in the very midst was a pause, to tell that his comrades asked, "who is he, pray?" "the only son of the widow gray," was the proud reply of his captain nigh. what ails the woman standing near? her face has the ashen hue of fear! "well, well, read on; is he wounded? quick! oh, god! but my heart is sorrow sick! is he wounded?" "no! he fell," they say, "killed outright on that fatal day!" but see, the woman has swooned away! [illustration: "only a list of the wounded and dead."] sadly she opened her eyes to the light, slowly recalled the events of the fight; faintly she murmured, "killed outright! it has cost me the life of my only son, but the battle is fought and the victory won; the will of the lord, let it be done!" god pity the cheerless widow gray, and send from the halls of eternal day the light of his peace to illume her way! the bars and stars. by w. a. haynes. _air--"star spangled banner."_ oh, the tocsin of war still resounds o'er the land, and legions of braves are now rushing to battle, our lint-stocks are lighted, our guns are all manned, loud thunders the cannon, and musketry rattle, our hosts there are led by the blue, white and red, while the battle fiend flaps his pale wing o'er the dead. chorus.--let the bars and stars of our banner ever wave o'er the land of the south, the home of the brave. o, say, can you see through the mist and the gloom, through the clouds of the battle our stars brightly shining, 'tis a beacon of hope, 'tis a signal of doom to the hordes of the vandals our borders now lining; proud defiance we hurl and our flag we unfurl, let it float, proudly float, in the gaze of the world. chorus. for thirty years or more, we have waited and prayed that the chains of oppression and wrongs might be sundered, but the black fiends of the north, with their plans foully laid, have raised up a whirlwind and the old ship's now foundered. we shouted the alarm, we spoke of our wrongs, now the argument's exhausted, we'll stand by our arms. chorus. oh! manassas has been fought, and the field has been won, and the brag guns of sherman our brave boys have taken; our foes have retreated back to old washington, but the ranks of our dixie still remain there unshaken; and over the graves of the new york zouaves the bars and the stars now triumphantly waves. chorus. war song. _charleston mercury._ respectfully inscribed to the companies mentioned. _air--"march, march, ettrick and toviotdale."_ march, march on, brave "palmetto" boys, "sumpter" and "lafayettes" forward in order; march, march "calhoun" and "rifle" boys, all the base yankees are crossing the border, banners are round ye spread, floating above your head, soon shall the lone star be famous in story, on, on, my gallant men, vict'ry be thine again; fight for your rights till the green sod is gory. young wives and sisters have buckled your armor on; maidens ye love bid ye go to the battle-field; strong arms and stout hearts have many a vict'ry won, courage shall strengthen the weapons ye wield; wild passions are storming, dark schemes are forming, deep snares are laid, but they shall not enthrall ye; justice your cause shall greet, laurels lay at your feet, if each brave band be but watchful and wary. let fear and unmanliness vanish before ye; trust in the rock who will shelter the righteous; plant firmly each step on the soil of the free,-- a heritage left by the sires who bled for us, may each heart be bounding, when trumpets are sounding, and the dark traitors shall strive to surround ye; the great god of battle can still the war-rattle, and brighten the land with a sunset of glory. the southern flag. _tune_--"_a wet sheet and a flowing sea._" three cheers for the southern flag, that floats upon the gale, once more fling out its flapping folds, and make its foeman quail. and make each foeman quail, my boys, while, like an earthquake roar, goes forth our war cry through the land, for liberty once more. chorus.--three cheers for the southern flag, that floats above the gale, once more fling out its flapping folds, and make its foeman quail. oh, for an abolition crowd, i hear old abe cry out, affrighted by the march of foes, the freeman's mighty shout. that shouting welcomes to our heart, the freeman's chosen man-- jeff davis--who now heads our hosts, and leads the glorious van. chorus. full brightly waves our flag in air, o'er sumpter's fort just won. and soon o'er pickens' towering heights it will glitter in the sun. it will glitter in the sun, my boys, and fan the battle cloud, the struggling freeman's sigh of hope, the fallen heroes' shroud. chorus. and now three cheers for the glorious flag, that victory has won, and may it soon be towering o'er the dome at washington. the dome at washington, my boys, while abolition hosts shall quail and shake before the flag-- the freeman's glorious boast. chorus. the stars and the bars. o, the south is the queen of all nations, the home of the brave and the true-- she makes no vain demonstration; but shows what her brave sons can do; her freedom and advancement they cherish-- "our rights, our liberties," they cry, "to the rescue, we'll win the fight or perish, for the southern boys never fear to die." chorus.--then hurrah for the "stars and bars," no stain on its folds ever be-- its glory dishonor never mars, and 'twill yet grace the land of the free. bring forward the tankard and fill it, ye sons that are loyal and brave, our blood--o, how freely we'll spill it, we are fighting for freedom or the grave; our armies may be scattered and disbanded, yet the wild-woods we still will infest-- yet shall fear the brave foe tho' single-handed, when the death rattle burst from his breast. chorus. though black clouds sometimes may darken, and shadow the bright sunny sky; to the rumbling of cannon we'll hearken, which tells of the foe as they fly. tho' thousands may fall stark and gory, their requiem from gun and cannon mouth, they'll win fame, freedom and glory; and all for the loved "sunny south." chorus. confederate song. _air--"bruce's address."_ written for and dedicated to the kirk's ferry rangers, by their captain, e. lloyd wailes. sung by the glee club on th july, , at the kirk's ferry barbecue (catahoula, la.), after the presentation of a flag, by the ladies, to the kirk's ferry rangers. rally round our country's flag! rally, boys, nor do not lag; come from every vale and crag, sons of liberty! northern vandals tread our soil, forth they come for blood and spoil, to the homes we've gained with toil, shouting, "slavery." traitorous lincoln's bloody band now invades the freeman's land, arm'd with sword and firebrand, 'gainst the brave and free. arm ye, then, for fray and fight, march ye forth both day and night, stop not till the foe's in sight, sons of chivalry. in your veins the blood still flows of brave men who once arose-- burst the shackles of their foes; honest men and free rise, then, in your power and might, seek the spoiler, brave the fight; strike for god, for truth, for right: strike for liberty! lee at the wilderness. by miss mollie e. moore. 'twas a terrible moment! the blood and the rout! his great bosom shook with an awful doubt. confusion in front, and a pause in the cries: and a darkness like night passed over our skies: there were tears in the eyes of general lee. as the blue-clad lines swept fearfully near, there was wavering yonder, and a break in the cheer of our columns unsteady: but "we are here! _we_ are ready with rifle and blade!" cried the texas brigade to general lee. he smiled--it meant death, that wonderful smile; it leaped like a flame down each close set file; and we stormed to the front with a long, loud cry-- we had long ago learned how to charge and to die: there was faith in the eye of general lee. but a sudden pause came, as we dashed on the foe, and our scathing columns swayed to and fro; cold grew our blood, glowing like wine, and a quick, sharp whisper shot over our line, as our ranks opened wide-- _and there by our side rode general lee._ how grandly he rode! with his eyes on fire, and his great bosom shook with an awful desire! but, "back to the rear! 'till you ride to the rear we will not do battle with gun or with blade!" cried the texas brigade to general lee. [illustration: gen. robert e. lee.] and so he rode back; and our terrible yell stormed up to the front; and the fierce, wild swell, and the roar and the rattle, swept into the battle from general lee. i felt my foot slip in the gathering fray-- i looked, and my brother lay dead in my way. i paused but one moment to draw him aside; ah! the gash in his bosom was bloody and wide! but he smiled, for he died for general lee. christ! 'twas maddening work; but the work was done, and a few came back when the hour was won. let it glow in the peerless records of the fearless-- the charge that was made by the texas brigade for general lee. a southern song. by "l. m.," in _louisville courier_. if ever i consent to be married, and who would refuse a good mate? the man whom i give my hand to, must believe in the rights of the state. to a husband who quietly submits to negro-equality sway, the true southern girl will not barter her heart and affections away. the heart i may choose to preside o'er, true, warm, and devoted must be, and have true love for a union under the southern liberty tree. should lincoln attempt to coerce him to share with the negro his right, then, smiling, i'd gird on his armor, and bid him god-speed in the fight. and if he should fall in the conflict, his memory with tears i will grace; better weep o'er a patriot fallen, than blush in a tory embrace. we girls are all for a union, where a marked distinction is laid between the rights of the mistress and those of the kinky-haired maid. the texan marseillaise. by james haines, of texas. sons of the south, arouse to battle! gird on your armor for the fight! the northern thugs, with dread "war's rattle," pour on each vale, and glen, and height; meet them as ocean meets in madness the frail bark on the rocky shore, when crested billows roam and roar, and the wrecked crew go down in sadness: chorus.--arm! arm! ye southern braves! scatter yon vandal hordes! despots and bandits, fitting food for vultures and your swords. shall dastard tyrants march their legions to crush the land of jackson--lee? shall freedom fly to other regions, and sons of yorktown bend the knee? or shall their "footprints' base pollution" of southern soil in blood be purged, and every flying slave be scourged back to his snows in wild confusion. chorus. vile despots, with their minions knavish, would drag us back to their embrace; will freemen brook a chain so slavish? will brave men take so low a place? o, heaven! for words--the loathing, scorning we feel for such a union's bands: to paint with more than mortal hands, and sound our loudest notes of warning. chorus. what! union with a race ignoring the charter of our nation's birth? union with bastard slaves adoring the fiend that chains them to the earth? no! we reply in tones of thunder, no! our staunch hills fling back the sound-- no! our hoarse cannon echo round-- no! evermore remain asunder! chorus. [illustration: stonewall jackson's cadet button.] the battle of the mississippi. the tyrant's broad pennant is floating in the south, o'er our waters so blue: on our homes now his foul eye is gloating; the homes of the brave and the true. chorus.--but our flag at the "head of the passes," is borne by men brave and true; we will teach them to fear our "manassas;"[ ] three cheers for _our_ red, white, and blue. we will give his proud fleet such a greeting as the storm-cloud's shaft to the tree; as the rock to the wave in their meeting-- is the stroke of the brave and the free. chorus. though his minions may come as the locust, and outnumber the sands of the sea, their numbers will serve to provoke us, to dare, to die, or live free. chorus. every breeze from the "crescent" is laden with defiance to the despot on our shore; strong men, the child, and each maiden, join in chorus with the cannon's loud roar. chorus. song for the south. of all the mighty nations, in the east or in the west, our glorious southern nation is the greatest and the best; we have room for all true southrons, with our stars and bars unfurled, and a general invitation to the people of the world. chorus.--then, to arms, boys! to arms, boys! make no delay, come from every southern state, come from every way, our army isn't large enough, jeff davis calls for more, to hurl the vile invader from off our southern shore. ohio is our northern line, far as her waters flow, and on the south is the rio grande and the gulf of mexico; while between the atlantic ocean, where the sun begins to rise, westward to arizona, the land of promise lies. chorus. while the gulf states raise the cotton, the others grain and pork, north and south carolina's factories will do the finer work; for the deep and flowing waterfalls that course along our hills, are "just the things" for washing sheep and driving cotton mills. chorus. our southern boys are brave and true, and joining heart and hand and are flocking to the "stars and bars" as they are floating o'er the land. and all are standing ready, with their rifles in their hands, and invite the north to open graves down south in dixie's land. chorus. song of the southern soldier. by "p. e. c.," in _richmond examiner_. _tune_--"_barclay and perkins' drayman._" these lines were written jan. , , for a friend, who expected to sing them in the theatre, but thought at the time to be too much in the secession spirit. i'm a soldier, you see, that oppression has made! i don't fight for pay or for booty; but i wear in my hat a blue cockade, placed there by the fingers of beauty. the south is my home, where a black man is black, and a white man there is a white man; now i am tired of listening to northern clack,-- let us see what they will do in a fight, man. the yankees are cute; they have managed, somehow, their business and ours to settle; they make all we want, from a pin to a plough, now we'll show them some southern mettle. we have had just enough of their northern law, that robbed us so long of our right, man, and too much of their cursed abolition jaw,-- now we'll see what they'll do in a fight, man! their parsons will open their sanctified jaws, and cant of our slave-growing sin, sir; they pocket the _profits_, while preaching the laws, and manage our cotton to spin, sir. their incomes are nice, on our sugar and rice, though against it the hypocrites write, sir; now our dander is up, and they'll soon smell a mice, if we once get them into a fight, sir. our cotton bales once made a good barricade, and can still do the state a good service; with them and the boys of the blue cockade, there is power enough to preserve us. so shoulder your rifles, my boys, for defense, in the cause of our freedom and right, man; if there's no other way for to learn them sense, we may teach them a lesson in fight, man. the stars that are growing so fast on our flags, we treasure as liberty's pearls, and stainless we'll bear them, though shot into rags; they were fixed by the hands of our girls, and fixed stars they shall be in our national sky, to guide through the future aright, man, and your cousin sam, with their gleam in his eye, may dare the whole world to fight, man. the dying soldier boy. by a. b. cunningham, of louisiana. _air--"maid of monterey."_ upon manassas' bloody plain a soldier boy lay dying! the gentle winds above his form in softest tones were sighing; the god of day had slowly sank beneath the verge of day, and the silver moon was gliding above the milky way. the stars were shining brightly, and the sky was calm and blue, oh, what a beautiful scene was this for human eyes to view! the river roll'd in splendor, and the wavelets danc'd around, but the banks were strew'd with dead men, and gory was the ground. but the hero-boy lay dying, and his thoughts were very deep, for the death-wound in his young side was wafting him to sleep; the thought of home and kindred away on a distant shore, all of whom he must relinquish, and never see them more. and as the night-breeze passed by, in whispers o'er the dead, sweet memories of olden days came rushing to his head; but his mind was weak and deaden'd, so he turned from where he lay, as the death-angel flitted by, and call'd his soul away! [illustration: "the hero-boy lay dying."] the southern banner. by col. w. s. hawkins, c. s. a., camp chase, ohio. sing-ho! for the southerner's meteor flag as 'tis flung in its pride to the breeze, from the happy glen and the beetling crag, 'tis the pride of the land and the seas. hurrah! for the scintillant cross of red, as it waves and glances in light, beneath it our brothers grandly tread, to battle for god and right. the flag for which southrons had gladly died is the badge of the tyrant now, and for it no blush of joy or pride suffuseth the cheek or brow. * * * * * sing ho! for the southerner's flag for aye, and ho! for its beautiful cross; it shall be the signal of bold array where the windy surges toss. on a traitor's heart be the curses of night, and palsied the craven hand that fails in the hazard of furious fight for god and our native land. hurrah! as over the hills it waves, or is borne on the ocean's breast, hurrah! as it leads our valorous braves, or is drooped o'er the hero's rest. whether it greets the uprising sun or is bathed in the western light, beneath it shall all our hopes be won for "god will defend the right." o, johnny bull, my jo john. _air--"john anderson, my jo."_ in december, , eighty-seven british ships-of-war were lying in the waters of the west indies. this fact gave rise to the following imitation of an old song. o, johnny bull, my jo john! i wonder what you mean, by sending all these frigates out, commissioned by the queen; you'll frighten off the yankees, john, and why should you do so? but catch and sink, or burn them all, o, johnny bull, my jo! o, johnny bull, my jo john! when yankee hands profane, were laid in wanton insult upon the lion's mane, he roared so loud and long, john, they quickly let him go, and sank upon their trembling knees, o, johnny bull, my jo! o, johnny bull, my jo john! when lincoln first began to try his hand at war, john, you were a peaceful man; but now your blood is up, john, and well the yankees know, you play the ---- when you start, o, johnny bull, my jo! o, johnny bull, my jo john! let's take the field together, and hunt the yankee doodles home, in spite of wind and weather, and ere a twelve-month roll around, to boston we will go, and eat our christmas dinner there, o, johnny bull, my jo! morgan's war-song. by gen. basil duke, of kentucky. _air--a combination of the "marseillaise" and the "old granite state."_ ye sons of the south, take your weapons in hand, for the foot of the foe hath insulted your land: sound! sound the loud alarm! arise! arise and arm! let the hand of each foeman grasp the sword to maintain those rights which, once lost, he can never regain. chorus.--gather fast 'neath our flag, for 'tis god's own decree, that its folds shall still float o'er a land that is free! see ye not those dark clouds which now threaten the sky? hear ye not that stern thunder now bursting so nigh? shout! shout your battle-cry! win! win this fight or die! what our fathers achieved our own valor can keep, and we'll save our fair land or we'll sleep our last sleep! chorus. on our hearts and our arms and our god we rely, and a nation shall rise, or a people shall die. form! form the serried line! advance! advance our proud ensign: to your country devote every life that she gave, let the land they invade give their army its grave. chorus. though their plunder-paid hordes come to ravage our land, give our fields to the spoiler, our homes to the brand, our souls are all aglow, to face the hireling foe. give the robbers to know that we _never_ will yield, while the arm of one southron a weapon can wield. chorus. from our far southern shore now arises a prayer, while the cry of our women fills with anguish the air. o! list that pleading voice, each youth now make his choice; now tamely submit like a coward or slave, or rise and resist like the free and the brave. chorus. kentucky! kentucky! can you suffer the sight of your sisters insulted, your friends in the fight? awake! be free again! o! break the tyrant's chain: let each hand seize the sword it drew for the right, from the homes of your fathers drive the dastard in flight. chorus. knoxville, tenn., july , . for bales. _air--"johnny, fill up the bowl."_ [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] we all went down to new orleans, for bales, for bales; we all went down to new orleans, for bales, says i; we all went down to new orleans to get a peep behind the scenes, "and we'll all drink stone blind, johnny, fill up the bowl." we thought when we got in the "ring," for bales, for bales; we thought when we got in the "ring," for bales, says i; we thought when we got in the "ring," greenbacks would be a dead sure thing, "and we'll all drink stone blind, johnny, fill up the bowl." the "ring" went up with bagging and rope, for bales, for bales; upon the "black hawk" with bagging and rope, for bales, says i; went up "red river" with bagging and rope, expecting to make a pile of "soap," "and we'll all drink stone blind, johnny, fill up the bowl." but taylor and smith, with ragged ranks, for bales, for bales; but taylor and smith, with ragged ranks, for bales, says i; but taylor and smith, with ragged ranks, burned up the cotton and whipped old banks, "and we'll all drink stone blind, johnny, fill up the bowl." our "ring" came back and cursed and swore, for bales, for bales; our "ring" came back and cursed and swore, for bales, says i; our "ring" came back and cursed and swore, for we got no cotton at grand ecore, "and we'll all drink stone blind, johnny, fill up the bowl." now let us all give praise and thanks, for bales, for bales; now let us all give praise and thanks, for bales, says i; now let us all give praise and thanks for the victory (?) gained by general banks, "and we'll all drink stone blind, johnny, fill up the bowl." the song of the south. hurrah for the south, the glorious south! the land of song and story-- her name shall ring, and the world shall sing her honor, fame, and glory; for the skies above, which smiled in love, are dark with hearth-fires burning; she rises in might to defend the right, on her treacherous brethren turning. chorus.--sons of the south, arise! arise! for never shall fall upon her-- the land we love all the earth above, one stain of dark dishonor. hurrah for the south, the gallant south, with her great heart proudly beating; she takes her stand at freedom's hand, and dreams not of retreating; oh! southern boys, for fireside joys, with their hearts so brave and tender, will relentlessly fight, and to death's dark night alone will they surrender. chorus. no northern band shall rule this land--to the breeze give freedom's banner, as its glowing folds o'er our land unroll, from mountain and savannah; o'er river and lake the sound shall break, and swell with thundering glory; hurrah for the south! the noble south! the land of war and story! chorus. land of the south. by a. f. leonard. _air--"friend of my soul."_ land of the south! the fairest land beneath columbia's sky! proudly her hills of freedom stand, her plains in beauty lie. her dotted fields, her traversed streams their annual wealth renew; land of the south! in brightest dreams no dearer spot we view. * * * * * flag of the south! aye, fling its folds upon the kindred breeze; emblem of dread to tyrant holds-- of freedom on the seas, forever may its stars and stripes in cloudless glory wave; red, white, and blue--eternal types of nations free and brave! states of the south! the patriot's boast! here equal laws have sway; nor tyrant lord, nor despot host, upon the weak may prey. then let them rule from sea to sea, and crown the queenly isle-- union of love and liberty, 'neath heaven's approving smile. ladies, to the hospital! by "personne," correspondent of the _charleston courier_. fold away all your bright-tinted dresses, turn the key on your jewels to-day, and the wreath of your tendril-like tresses, braid back in a serious way: no more delicate gloves, no more laces; no more trifling in boudoir or bower; but come with your souls in your faces, to meet the stern wants of the hour. look around! by the torch-light unsteady, the dead and the dying seem one; what? trembling and paling already, before your mission's begun? these wounds are more precious than ghastly; time presses her lips to each scar, while she chants of that glory which vastly transcends all the horrors of war. [illustration: "... how mellow the light showers down on that brow."] pause here by this bedside. how mellow the light showers down on that brow; such a brave, brawny visage! poor fellow! some homestead is missing him now; some wife shaded her eyes in the clearing; some mother sits moaning, distressed; while the lov'd one lies faint but unfearing, with the enemy's ball in his breast. here's another; a lad--a mere stripling-- picked up on the fields almost dead, with the blood through the sunny hair rippling, from a horrible gash in the head! they say he was first in the action, gay-hearted, quick-handed and witty; he fought till he dropped with exhaustion, in front of our fair southern city. fought and fell 'neath the guns of that city, with a spirit transcending his years; lift him up in your large-hearted pity, and wet his pale lips with your tears: touch him gently; most sacred that duty of dressing that poor shatter'd hand; god spare him to rise in his beauty, and battle once more for his land! who groan'd? what a passionate murmur: "in thy mercy, oh god! let me die! ha! surgeon, your hand must be firmer," that musket ball's entered his thigh: turn the light on those poor furrow'd features, gray-haired and unknown, bless thee, brother! oh heaven! that one of thy creatures should e'er work such woe on another. wipe the sweat from his brow with your 'kerchief let the tatter'd old collar go wide! see! he stretches out blindly to see if the surgeon still stands by his side: "my son's over yonder--he's wounded-- o this ball has entered my thigh!" and again he burst out all a tremble, "in thy mercy, o god, let me die!" pass on: it is useless to linger while other are claiming your care; there is need for your delicate finger, for your womanly sympathy there: there are sick ones athirst for caressing; there are dying ones raving of home there are wounds to be bound with a blessing and shrouds to make ready for some. they have gathered about you the harvest of death in its ghastliest view; the nearest as well as the farthest is here with the traitor and true; and crown'd with your beautiful patience, made sunny with love at the heart; you must balsam the wounds of a nation, nor falter nor shrink from your part. up and down through the wards where the fever stalks noisome and gaunt and impure, you must go with your steadfast endeavor to comfort, to counsel, to cure! i grant you the task is superhuman, but strength will be given to you to do for those lov'd ones, what woman alone in her pity can do. and the lips of the mothers will bless you, as angels sweet visaged and pale; and the little ones run to caress you, and the wives and the sisters cry hail! but e'en if you drop down unheeded, what matter? god's ways are the best! you have pour'd out your life where 'twas needed, and he will take care of the rest. to the davis guard. by lieut. w. p. cunningham. soldiers! raise your banner proudly, let it pierce our texan sky-- hurrah! it was shouted loudly-- "we will do it or we'll die!" thus spoke the heroic dowling! to his irish gallant band: "let us send the foes a howling, from our lovely texas land!" nobly answer'd those brave men all, to his soul-stirring appeal; "aye, we'll drive them away or fall; we'll fight them with lead and steel." the irishmen desert never the people that treat them well; their friends they love forever; their foes may "go to ----!" "steady, steady, keep cool, my boys, now they are near--ready--fire!" thus their noble chieftain cries, and they fire and never tire. hear the heavy, thundering sound, the men of war they cry; the dull earth itself resounds as the foemen fight and die. but hurrah! the white flag's flying-- see, they spare the fallen foe! they attend the wounded--dying-- the brave will have it so. o, davis guards! ye men of war, you've made a glorious name! thus always guard our texas star, and preserve, for aye, your fame. and when around the social glass in years to come, you meet, o ne'er forget the sabine pass! but its mem'ries fondly greet. war song. by j. h. woodcock. _tune_--"_bonnie blue flag._" huzza! huzza! let's raise the battle cry, and whip the yankees from our land, or with them fall and die; rush on our southern columns, and make the brigands feel that all the booty they will get, will be our southern steel. chorus.--huzza! huzza! let's raise our banner high, and nobly drive the yankees out, or with them fall and die. we are fighting for our mothers, our sisters and our wives; for these, and our country's rights, we'll sacrifice our lives. then trusting still to heaven, we'll charge th' invading host, till liberty and independence shall be the nation's boast. chorus. then on with our columns--slay the vandal foe-- beat them from our sunny soil, and lay their colors low. to the great god of nations our sacred cause confide, for we are fighting for our liberty and he is on our side. chorus. the south for me. the south for me! the sunny clime, where earth is clothed in beauty's hue, and nature vies in scenes sublime, with all the old world ever knew; i love thy soil where'er i roam, sweet land! and when afar from thee, my fond heart throbs with thoughts of home, and echoes back "the south for me." chorus.--the south for me, the south for me, the golden clime, the heart's desires, the only land where men are free, and worthy of their free-born sires. the south for me! the patriot's heart beats ever to that slogan cry; and heroes, armed and ready, start for their loved land to do or die; but leave the southron's valor free, let southern heroes meet the foe, and when rings out "the south for me," their strong right arms will deal the blow. chorus. the south for me! its bright-eyed maids, its clime, its stars, its silvery skies, its streamlets, with their lovely naiads, its vales, where varying beauties rise, its cotton fields, where dusky slaves, are happy in protection kind, the stranger's home, though yankee knaves may never there a welcome find. chorus. carolina. by mrs. c. a. b. music by a. e. b. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] 'mid her ruins proudly stands, our carolina! fetters are upon her hands, dear carolina! yet she feels no sense of shame, for upon the scroll of fame, she hath writ a deathless name, brave carolina! she was first our wrongs to feel, our carolina! first to draw the glittering steel, dear carolina! ready first to strike the blow, at th' oppressor and the foe, and to lay their standard low, brave carolina! nobly now she bears her wrongs, our carolina! in her might she still hath songs, dear carolina! in the dust her sons lie low, yet though stricken by the foe, pride is mingled with her woe-- brave carolina! on her brow there is no stain, our carolina! she hath poured out blood like rain, dear carolina! vain her sufferings and her pains, on her limbs are clanking chains, but her glory yet remains, brave carolina! bitterly we mourn her fate, our carolina! cherished old palmetto state; dear carolina! yet while man's brave soul is free, honored proudly she shall be, mother of true chivalry! brave carolina! vicksburg song.[ ] by capt. j. w. a. wright. _air--"a life on the ocean wave."_ a life on the vicksburg bluff, a home in the trenches deep, where we dodge "yank" shells enough-- and our old "pea-bread" won't keep. on "old logan's" beef i pine, for there's fat on his bones no more; oh! give me some pork in brine, and "truck" from a sutler's store. chorus.--a life on the vicksburg bluff, a home in the trenches deep, where we dodge "yank" shells enough-- and our old "pea-bread" won't keep, pea-bread, pea-bread, pea-bread; our old pea-bread won't keep. [illustration: "so we'll bury 'old logan' to-night."] old grant is starving us out, our grub is fast wasting away, pemb don't know what he's about, and he hasn't for many a day. so we'll bury "old logan" to-night, from tough beef we'll be set free; we'll put him far out of sight-- no more of his meat for me. chorus. texas "steers" are no longer in view, mule steaks are now "done up brown," while "pea-bread," mule roast, and mule stew, are our fare in old vicksburg town. and the song of our hearts shall be, while the "yanks" and their gunboats rave, a life in "bomb-proofs" for me, and a tear o'er "old logan's" grave. chorus. [illustration] do they miss me in the trenches? a vicksburg song. _air--"do they miss me at home?"_ do they miss me in the trenches, do they miss me, when the shells fly so thickly around? do they know that i've run down the hillside to hunt for my hole in the ground? the shell exploded so near me, it seemed best for me to run; and altho' some laugh'd as i crawfished, i could not discover the fun. i often get up in the trenches, when some yank is near out of sight, and fire a round or two at him, to make the boys think i will fight; but when the feds commence shelling, i run to my hole down the hill-- i'll swear my legs never would stay there, altho' all may stay there that will. i'll save myself thro' the dread struggle, and when the great battle is o'er, i'll claim my full rations of laurels, as always i've done heretofore. i'll swear that i fought them as bravely as the best of my comrades who fell-- and swear to all others around me, that i never had fears of a shell. boys! keep your powder dry. can'st tell who lose the battle, oft in the council-field? not they who struggle bravely, not they who never yield. chorus.--not they who are determined to conquer or to die, and hearken to this caution: boys, keep your powder dry! the foe awaits you yonder! he may await you here, have brave hearts, stand with courage; be strangers all to fear! and when the charge is given, be ready at the cry: look well each to his priming--boys, keep your powder dry! chorus. does a lov'd one home await you, who wept to see you go, when with a kiss imprinted, you left with sacred vow-- you'd come again when warfare and arms are all laid by, to take her to your bosom?--boys, keep your powder dry! chorus. does a father home await you? a sister whom you love? a mother who has reared you, and pray'd to him above-- "protect my boy, preserve him, and when the battle's done, send to his weeping mother, bereft, her darling son!" chorus. the name of freedom calls you, the names of martyr'd sires, and liberty's imploring, from all her hallow'd fires! can you withstand their calling? you cannot pass them by-- you cannot! now charge fiercely!--boys, keep your powder dry. chorus. bayou city guards' song. in the chickahominy swamp. fighting for our rights now, feasting when they're won, by that cross and stars, boys, fluttering in the sun-- the girls at home will hear, boys, of our banquet of hard corn, and they'll think and pray for us, boys, at night and dewy morn, then hand around the corn, boys, and pass the full canteen; corn and water, and a fight, boys, are enough for us, i ween. sleeping in the swamps now, without shelter or a bed; the heaven's green sky above us, green turf beneath our head; but at home when we arrive, boys, tender arms shall us enfold; our pillows shall be the hearts, boys, that now our image hold. shells are flying over us, the bullets 'round us fly; but we'll lie upon the grass, boys, and munch our corn away! we're driven to their gunboats the base, invading foe; in quick time, such as texans can, we'll make the federals go. our mothers are praying for us, our darling sisters too; our sweethearts--ah! god bless them! what can't we dare or do? with our country's rights and darling ones emblazon'd on our shields, we'll fight with god's protection, till each base invader yields. in thinking of our cause, boys, and all we love at home, these hard grains to heavenly manna have miraculously turn'd; and from this battered old canteen i've drained a nectar sweet; 'tis the heart that makes the banquet, and not what we have to eat. soon will we hail brave "stonewall!" in maryland set free! and our "old line" chief[ ] with his texas boys shall shout for his victory. with the cross and stars then wreathed in flowers, we'll turn our steps again, to the hearts and homes that sigh for us, on our proud prairie plain; then with gentle hands to tend us, and the chalice for canteen, with our rights all won, we'll rest us, boys, in peace and joy serene. the countersign. alas! the rolling hours pass slow-- the night is very dark and still-- and in the marshes, far below, is heard the lonely whippoorwill: i scarce can see a foot ahead-- my ears are strained to catch each sound-- i feel the leaves beneath me spread-- and the springs bubbling thro' the ground. along the beaten path i pace, where white rays mark my sentry's track; in formless things i seem to trace the foeman's form, with bended back-- i think i see him crouching low! i stop and list--i stop and peer-- until the neighb'ring hillocks grow to groups of soldiers, far and near. with ready piece i wait, and watch, until my eyes--familiar grown-- detect each harmless earthern notch, and turn "guerrillas" into stone; and then amid the lonely gloom, beneath the tall magnolia trees, my silent marches i resume, and think of other times than these. "halt! who goes there?" my challenge cry-- it rings along the watchful line-- "relief!" i hear a voice reply-- "advance and give the countersign!" with bayonet at the charge, i wait-- the corporal gives the mystic word-- with "arms aport" i change my mate, then onward pass, and all is well! but in my tent, that night, awake, i ask, "if in the fray i fall, can i the mystic answer make, when the angelic sentries call?" and pray that heaven so ordain, where'er i go, what fate be mine, whether in pleasure or in pain i still may have the "countersign!" the darlings at home. by col. c. g. forshey. the sentinel treads his martial round, afar from his humble home-- the soldier he tramps till his thoughts are found on missions of love and tenderness bound, away among his darlings to roam. what tender emotions now over him rush! and the tears down his bearded cheeks steal, as he sees his darlings from their sportings rush, and bound to meet him with a joyful gush, "papa's come!" from their happy lips peal. bright mary! as fleet as a bounding gazelle, is into his arms with a spring; and cabie, with voice clear as a bell, "there's papa, dear papa!" his joyous notes swell yet choking with tears as they ring. and next, little nubbie comes toddling along, bright curls streaming out to the wind-- with hands reaching up, and infantile tongue-- he's lifted the welcoming group among-- as tears the stern sentinel blind. and then, with the darling bright babe, mamma comes, to welcome him home to their cot-- what sobs and caresses, that happy group blesses; is the sentinel dreaming or not? the stern sergeant of guard, calls out from his tent, "number four has deserted his post!" the sentinel nearest saw whither he went, and found him, o'er musket, in reverie bent, at home--with his little ones--lost! * * * * * the sentinel treads his lonely round-- as dawn in the east is breaking a cannon's deep thundering shakes the ground! another! an army springs up at the sound-- to thousands death's _reveille_ waking! what a thrilling pang traverses his soul! and a tear down his cheek is stealing, for a thought of home, with the drum's deep roll, spite a soldier's manliness, over him stole, as the trumpet of battle was pealing. a moment he saw his darlings and wife; to heaven he breath'd a short prayer! to his country then consecrated his life, rush'd in where the clamor of battle was rife-- when a tempest of ball filled the air. * * * * * a wounded soldier, who fell by the run, lies panting for breath and for water-- his hand still grasping his trusty gun-- expires 'mid the glad notes of "victory won!" on manassas' red field of slaughter. * * * * * in a far away cabin, a wailing is heard, when the lists of the fallen have come; a mother, long sicken'd by hope deferr'd, a widow with orphans is made at a word, and she weeps o'er the "darlings at home." at fort pillow. you shudder as you think upon th' carnage of the grim report, the desolation when we won the inner trenches of the fort; but there are deeds ye may not know, that scourge the pulses into strife; dark memories of deathless woe pointing the bayonet and knife. the house is ashes where i dwelt, beyond the mighty inland sea, the tombstones shattered where i knelt by that old church at pointe coupee; the yankee fiends that came with fire, camped on the consecrated sod, and trampled in the dust and mire the holy eucharist of god! the spot where darling mother sleeps, beneath the glimpse of yon sad moon, is crushed with splintered marble heaps, to stall the horse of some dragoon; god! when i ponder that black day it makes my frantic spirit wince; i marched--with longstreet--far away, but have beheld the ravage since. the tears are hot upon my face, when thinking what black fate befell the only sister of our race--a thing too horrible to tell! they say that ere her senses fled, she rescue of her brothers cried; then freely bowed her stricken head, too poor to live thus--so she died. two of those brothers heard no plea; with their proud hearts forever still-- john shrouded by the tennessee, and arthur there at malvern hill; but i have heard it everywhere, vibrating like a passing knell; 'tis as perpetual as the air, and solemn as a funeral bell. by scorched lagoon and murky swamp, my wrath was never in the lurch; i've killed the picket in his camp, and many a pilot on his perch; with steady rifle, sharpen'd brand, a week ago upon my steed, with forrest and his warrior band, i made the hell-hounds writhe and bleed. you should have seen our leader go upon the battle's burning marge, sweeping like falcon on the foe, heading the gray line's iron charge! all outcasts from our ruined marts, we heard th' undying serpent hiss, and in the desert of our hearts the fatal spell of nemesis. [illustration: "my right arm bared for fiercer play."] the southern yell rang loud and high the moment that we thundered in, smiting the demons hip and thigh, cleaving them to the very chin; my right arm bared for fiercer play, the left one held the rein in slack; in all the fury of the fray i sought the white man, not the black. the dabbled clots of brain and gore across the swirling sabres ran; to me each brutal visage bore the front of one accurs'd man! throbbing along the frenzied vein, my blood seem'd kindled into song-- the death-dirge of the sacred slain, the slogan of immortal wrong. it glared athwart the dripping glaves, it blazed in each avenging eye-- the thought of desecrated graves and some lone sister's desperate cry. [illustration: virginia sword-belt clasp.] duty and defiance. by colonel hamilton washington. raise the thrilling cry, to arms! texas needs us all, texans! home and love and pleasure's charms, yield to duty's call, texans! now the stream of battle lowers-- who before the tempest cowers? who could hide in woman's bowers? show him to the field, texans! twice our sires for freedom fought-- twice with blood the treasure bought-- by the lessons they have taught we'll die, but never yield, texans! long we've heard the storm afar; now 'tis coming near, texans! onward rolls the din of war, let us meet it here, texans! all we have and love's in danger, forward, then, each texan ranger! let us meet the daring stranger, that brings us war at home, texans!-- never shall our happy land be ravaged by a robber band-- we will meet them hand to hand, and fight each step they come, texans. the confederate oath.[ ] _air--"my maryland."_ by the cross upon our banner--glory of our southern sky-- swear we now, a band of brothers, free to live, or free to die! northrons! by the rights denied, listen to our solemn vow-- here we swear, as freemen, never to your galling yoke to bow! by our brave ones lost in battle, best and noblest of our land, fighting with your northern hirelings, face to face and hand to hand; by a sacrifice so priceless, by the spirits of the slain-- swear we now, our southern heroes shall not thus have died in vain. wide and deep the breach between us--rent by hatred's poisoned darts, and ye cannot now cement it with the blood of southern hearts! streams of gore that gulf shall widen, running strong and deep and red, severing you from us forever, while there is a drop to shed. think you we will brook the insults of your fierce and ruffian chief, heaped upon our dark-eyed daughters stricken down and pale with grief! think you while astounded nations curse your malice, we will bear foulest wrong? with god to call on--arms to do--and hearts to dare! when we prayed in peace to leave you, answering came a battle cry; then we swore that oath which freemen never swear who fear to die! northrons, come! and you shall find us heart to heart and hand to hand, shouting to the god of battles, freedom and our native land! bayou city guards' dixie. by the company's own poet. from houston city and brazos bottom, from selling goods and making cotton, away, away, away, away! we go to meet our country's foes, to win or die in freedom's cause; away, away, away, away! chorus.--we're going to old virginia, hooray, hooray! to join the fight for southern rights-- we'll live or die for davis, hooray, hooray! we'll live or die for davis. you've heard of abe, the gay deceiver, who sent to sumter to relieve her; away, away, away, away! but beauregard said "save your bacon! sumter's ours and must be taken!" away, away, away, away! with a floating battery and a few hot shot, he sent them back to general scott-- old abe he swore and cuss'd like fun when he found the rebels wouldn't run. scott with his army started south! you've heard how our armies cleaned them out-- on manassas' plains for miles around, their dead and wounded fill'd the ground. senator wilson, the ugly sinner, went over to centreville to eat a big dinner-- the m. c.'s and ministers of state, left their champagne behind and dinners on the plate. they had to leave on an empty stomach, and "git up and git" on t'other side of the potomac-- but some of the invaders are with us still-- we'll send them back again if the lord will. our country calls for volunteers, and texas boys reply with cheers-- the henderson guards and leon hunters, friends in peace--in war like panthers. the tom green rifles and lone star guards, in a cause that is just, nothing retards; the echo company, and the brave five shooters, will deal out death to all freebooters. the northern vandals will learn to their sorrow, of the porter guards, and rifles of navarro-- the mustang greys, o, they never fight for bounty, nor do the other greys--those from navarro county. the liberty invincibles and hardeman texans can wallop ten to one, whether yanks or mexicans; from the waverly confederates and the dixie blues, and the bayou city guards you may expect good news. de cotton down in dixie. these capital verses were found [written?] on board of the english barque _premier_, in january, , bound from liverpool to havana, sixty miles west of madeira, by _lone star_, of galveston, texas. i'm gwine back to de land of cotton, wid de "english flag" in an "english bottom," far away, far away, far away; kase dere i'm safe from uncle sam, and he can't make me contraban', in de land, in de land, in de land, away down south in dixie. chorus.--o, in dixie land i'll take my stand, and live and die in dixie land; hoe away, hoe away, hoe away, de cotton down in dixie. nor confiscate me for his use, to black and clean his sojers' shoes, far away, etc., to "dig his trenches" and save his health, for a picayune a day and find myself, far away, far away, far away, from de cotton land of dixie. chorus. o, i'm gwine back to de old plantations, to tell de boys ob my observations, far away, etc., made by myself in de british nation-- i'll tell de trufe widout "sensation," far away, etc. chorus. i've been across de atlantic ocean, where dey all do make so great commotion, far away, etc., about de war and cotton "famine," dey talk a heap of "twaddle and gammon," far away, etc. chorus. for in dis english land i've bin in, dey've got no cotton for de spinnin', hard times, etc., for de warehousemen of manchester, de spinners, too, of lancashire, far away, etc. chorus. some say, "make muslin widout cotton," others, "o no, 'twill be too rotten;" talk away, etc., some say, "from india we'll get plenty, from egypt, greenland and ashantee," far away, etc. chorus. dey'se holdin' meetin's night and day, to find out soon some oder way, some way, etc., to git dere cotton widout you, but dat's a fac' dey'll nebber do, far away, etc. chorus. for it will take six million bales for de mills ob england, scotland, wales, spin away, etc., to feed de spinnin' mules and jennies, dere boys and gals and pickaninnies, far away, etc. chorus. now dis will take a time so long, 'twill be like de horse in de ole man's song', sing away, etc., dat he learned to lib widout corn or hay, but he _went dead_ dat berry same day, right away, etc. chorus. o gemmen ob de "supply association,"[ ] i'll tell you ob de "new-born nation," far away, etc., de confederate states of america, where cotton grows both night and day, far away, etc. chorus. for we can grow de cotton-wool, for john crapeau and johnny bull, "parley voo," etc., an' dey will feed and keep de workies, "white weaver folk," and "hoe in darkies," quite right, etc. chorus. o i'se gwine back to de land ob cotton, sea island seed and sandy bottom, far away, etc., to de bressed land whar i was born, de land of sugar, cotton and corn, far away, etc. chorus. the soldier's mission. by a. w. morse. haste thee, falter not, noble patriot band, bravely meet thy lot, firm maintain thy stand, god, the god of war, who defends the just, give thine arm the power to defend thy trust. thy country called thine aid, prompt thine answer came: "we'll draw our battle blade, and shield our country's name, 'till our firm demand shall have been proclaimed, justice through the land--equal rights maintained." welcome, welcome, then, to thy happy home, warm hearts wait thee, when thou mayst thus return but shouldst thou fall in defense of right with grateful hearts we'll all cherish thy memory bright. [illustration: infantry button.] soldier, i stay to pray for thee.[ ] words by j. s. thovington. music by j. w. groschel. _vocal duett._ soldier. lady, i go to fight for thee, where gory banners wave, to fight for thee, and, oh, perchance to find a soldier's grave. lady. soldier, i stay to pray for thee, a harder task is mine; to which, and long in lonely grief, that victory may be thine. soldier. lady, i go and fight for thee. lady. soldier, i stay and pray for thee. both. and strength and faith combined, still form the magic sword, wherewith the southrons victory find, the southrons victory find. [illustration: "lady, i go to fight for thee!"] soldier. fare thee well! lady. fare thee well! the south our country. words by e. m. thompson. music by j. a. butterfield. our country, our country, oh, where may we find, amid all the proud relics of legend or story, a holier charm for the patriot mind than that soul-stirring topic--our native land's glory. that land on whose standard the eagle's proud pinions flutter lordly defiance to tyranny's minions, and whose soil all untarnished by sceptre or throne, is a home for the brave, and the free heart alone. and we care not to honor the bleak shores of maine, with her ship-peopled strand in proud grandeur careering, nor the west, with her wide prairies waving in grain, the gainers of plenty by name so endearing. but the south is our home the land of bright flowers, where the softest of suns, and the gentlest of showers distill a sweet balm from the blossoming earth, and make life a bright vision of pleasure and mirth. though dreams of the past cling around the heart still, and a thousand proud memories will ever be cherished of princeton and monmouth and brave bunker hill the spots where our country's defenders have perished; the union they bled for is now rudely severed, the idols are broken we once fondly revered, and discord has scattered its pestilent bane from florida's reefs to the snow peaks of maine. but union still gladdens our own sunny home, whose bright blades and brave hearts will ever defend her, and though wreck and disaster and ruin may come, while the bright sun shines o'er them they never will surrender. let the foeman come on in his daring effrontery, let him trample the loved soil we call our dear country, and for every fair flower that fades in his path, a proud heart shall bleed 'neath the sword of our wrath. i wish i was in dixie's land. by dan d. emmett. [the music of this song can be obtained of oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] i wish i was in de land ob cotton, old times dar am not forgotten, look away, look away, look away, dixie land! in dixie land whar i was born in, early on one frosty mornin', look away, look away, look away, dixie land! chorus.--den i wish i was in dixie-- hooray, hooray! in dixie land i'll took my stan'! to lib an' die in dixie away, away, away down south in dixie away, away, away down south in dixie. ole missus marry "will-de-weaber," william was gay deceber look away, etc. but when he put his arm around 'er he smiled as fierce as a forty-pounder look away, etc. chorus. his face was sharp as a butcher's cleaber, but dat did not seem to grieb 'er, look away, etc. ole missus acted de foolish part, an' died for a man dat broke her heart, look away, etc. chorus. now, here's a health to de next ole missus, ah! all de gals dat want to kiss us, look away, etc. but if you want to drive 'way sorrow, come an' hear dis song to-morrow, look away, etc. chorus. dar's buckwheat cakes an' injun batter, makes you fat, or a little fatter, look away, etc. den hoe it down and scratch your grabble, to dixie's land i'm bound to trabble, look away, etc. chorus. campaign ballad. by rev. j. e. carnes. young florida sends forth her clan--the old dominion's brave, with sons of texas, lead the van to glory or the grave; now, by the fame of yorktown's name, and by the alamo, the sons will not the fathers shame, though mightier be the foe. from desecrated maryland come out a faithful few, and old kentucky sends a band to god and freedom true; there comes a thrill from sharpsburg's rill--and from the "bloody ground," heap'd with the mounds of perryville, the spectral slogans sound! and alabama's well-tried host into the grey line wheels, from wasted farms, beleaguered coast, from florence to mobile; the torch-lit home, whence kindred roam, has lent its wings their fire; and wrongs, tear-writ in mem'ry's tome, to deeds of blood inspire. ho, louisiana! vengeance fraught by rapine's hellish scenes, comes vanward with the blended thought of mansfield--new orleans; by spicy groves, where beauty roves, and where the yankees swarm, with vandal feet, in hireling droves, she swears her vengeance warm. arkansas strikes missouri's hand--they cross the bayonet, each thinking of a glorious band with blood of kindred met; they bless the post, whose little host fought all but treason well; and elkhorn's grief and springfield's boast their patriot bosoms swell. from where the cypress droppeth down tear-dews on jackson's tomb; from where the darkest mountains frown, and brightest valleys bloom, all broad of breast, with lance in rest, and in their swift-streams free, pour down the bravest and the best of sinewy tennessee. with vicksburg boiling in their veins, the mississippians cheer, with wildest joy, the trumpet-strains that speak the battle near; o hear! o hark! the name of stark is passed along the line-- a thousand eyes more keenly mark where gathering foes combine. from chickamauga to the flames that o'er savannah glare, inspired by bee and barton's names the georgians, too are there; by the sad path of sherman's wrath all thro' their staid old state, they swear themselves to deeds of scath, and righteous love of hate! the carolinas seek the fray--the scarr'd of every fight, from far manassas' glorious day to fisher's bloody night; grand deeds of old their hearts unfold, and later memories clasp, while rifle stock and hilt of gold are griped with fiercer grasp. now make one more immortal plain, ye men of battle skill, ye of the comprehensive brain and the undaunted will; now, robert lee! there comes to thee the all-decisive hour! god make thy flashing blade to be the lightning of his power! now, beauregard and johnston, now as in your other fight, with mutual heart and answering brow inspire the hosts of right! now, bragg and hood, who oft withstood, and oft have charged the foe, come with a hand and will as good to lay the vandal low. rise, longstreet, with a face that shines as bright as battle's flash, where'er along the closing lines the burnish'd bayonets crash; now, forrest, aid with such a blade as made fort pillow quail; now, hill and hardee, undismay'd, direct the iron hail. ho! smith, magruder, taylor, price and walker in your spheres, warm with your zeal the hearts of ice, and charm the coward's fears! for by the tree of liberty god planted on this shore, this fight should be a victory or ye should breathe no more. now, davis! on the mount of state, discern the lord's command, while faith and courage on thee wait, and lift each cheering hand, to beckon all, from farm and street, and make the laggard feel a wish to meet the first that greets the carnival of steel! let honor beat the rataplan and duty quick obey-- make "yea" an instant tagerman, and "no" at once a ney! upon the blood our best have spilled, pledge me with common breaths war to the hilt with yankee guilty, for "liberty or death!" [illustration: louisiana.] our glorious flag. a vicksburg song. _air--"her bright smile haunts me still."_ there is freedom on each fold, and each star is freedom's throne, and the free, the brave, the bold, guard thine honor as their own; ev'ry danger hast thou known that the battle's storm can fill, thy glory hath not flown--we proudly wave thee still. ev'ry danger, etc. floating in the morning light, freedom's sun! thou shinest far, floating thro' the murky night, all shall see thee, freedom's star! for _sic semper_ thy refrain, and thy motto e'er shall be, let tyrants wear the chain--i am--i will be free! o'er the land or the sea where the hurling waves are torn, in the calm, the storm, the breeze, be thy standard proudly borne; for there's freedom on each fold, and each star's freedom's throne-- the free, the brave, the bold, thy glory is their own. the hour before execution. by miss maria e. jones. hark! the clock strikes! all, all that now remains, is one short hour of this fast fleeting life, and then farewell the terrors and the strife, the heavenly joys, the sorrows of long years, it's holy rapture, the corroding pains-- that fill the heart with rapture or with tears. farewell, old world! i never knew 'till now how well i lov'd thee; and my wayward heart still fondly clings to thee--but we must part! let not my proud heart in that parting fail! how can i weep to leave thee? i whose brow hath oft been bared to battle's iron hail! my heart beats proudly, yet the coward tears steal from my eyes and bathe my pallid cheek; god! what womanly weakness do they speak and would half say, that the brave southern spy who had scorned death and mock'd his idle fears, had, at last, forgotten how to die. o beauteous earth! each well remember'd place-- all that i lov'd comes up before my mind-- the lov'd and cherished i must leave behind-- stand out before me! every verdant spot in my life's desert i can clearly trace, e'en to those pictures i had deemed forgot. i see my mother standing in the door of my lov'd home, as in the evening breeze the curtains wave, and the gigantic trees, stretching their arms to welcome me again, cast dark'ning shadows on the bare bright floor-- mother, dear mother! you will watch in vain. [illustration: "farewell to earth and all its beauteous bloom."] watch for the coming of my eager feet, my warm embraces and tender, loving kisses-- they will not come! dear mother, you will miss your boy's lov'd presence, and in vain will seek, the well known form that you were wont to greet with tender kisses upon brow and cheek. the tall, green trees will cast their lengthen'd shade across the prairie, and the shadows pale will fill your home, and the wild winds will wail with frantic madness, as they swiftly sweep thro' the dark forests where your children play'd-- where all save one in death's embraces sleep. and he will fill an unhonor'd far-off grave, unmark'd and lone! the hated foeman's scorn, will soon be o'er. this glorious, golden morn i leave my life, my honor and my fame, to nobly die as fits a soldier brave-- who asks of southrons but an honor'd name? the hour is gone! and i must meet my doom, and die, as should a soldier always die, with unblanch'd cheek, and proudly scornful eye, while stern defiance doth my bosom swell-- farewell to earth and all its beauteous bloom-- my country! mother! one long, last farewell! the black flag. by paul h. hayne. like the roar of the wintry surges on a wild tempestuous strand, the voice of the madden'd millions comes up from an outraged land; for the cup of our woe runs over, and the day of our grace is past, and mercy has fled to the angels, and hatred is king at last! chorus.--then up with the sable banner! let it thrill to the war god's breath, for we march to the watchword--vengeance! and we follow the captain--death! in the gloom of the gory breaches, on the ramparts wrapt in flame, 'mid the ruin'd homesteads, blacken'd by a hundred deeds of shame; wheresoever the vandals rally, and the bands of the alien meet, we will crush the heads of the hydra with the stamp of our armed feet. they have taught us a fearful lesson! 'tis burn'd on our hearts in fire, and the souls of a host of heroes leap with a fierce desire; and we swear by all that is sacred, and we swear by all that is pure, that the crafty and cruel dastards shall ravage our homes no more. we will roll the billows of battle back, back on the braggart foe, 'till his leaguer'd and stricken cities shall quake with a coward's throe; they shall compass the awful meaning of the conflict their lust begun, when the northland rings with wailing, and the grand old cause hath won.[ ] banks' skedaddle. you know the federal general banks, who came through louisiana with his forty thousand yanks; his object was to execute the abolition law, with as mongrel a horde of soldiers as creation ever saw; there were irish and english, and spanish and dutch, and negroes and yankees, and many more such, all dress'd out in blue coats and fine filagree-- but such a skedaddle you never did see! chorus.--doodle, doodle, yankee doodle, doodle, dee, o such a skedaddle you never did see! they came prepared to shear our sheep and gather in our crops, and thus destroy the government by knocking down its props; they'd rob us of our wheat and wool, our poultry and such things, and steal the ladies' jewelry, their dresses and their rings; they had scythe-blades and whiskey, and sheep shears and hams, and threshes and jack-knives, and jellies and jams, o glorious their object--a nation to free! but such a skedaddle you never did see! the veterans of vicksburg, who never had been whipped, all swore that not a leaflet of their laurels should be clipped; they wanted to see texas, and the famous texas boys, who thro' the whole confederacy were making such a noise; they had banners and mottoes, and trumpets and drums, and small arms and cannon, and round shot and bombs, their most famous column, the "feds" did agree-- but such a skedaddle you never did see! how first they saw the texans and heard the texan yell-- but whether men or devils they declare they could not tell, they faced about, at "double quick," and run with all their might, for they had seen the "elephant," and did not like the sight; they left baggage and enfields, and knapsacks and shoes, and pickles and blankets, and negroes and stews, and broke for the river as fast as might be-- but such a skedaddle you never did see! helter, skelter, neck or nothing, driven by their fears, from ev'ry side the texan yell was ringing in their ears! still on they rush'd, like quarter-horses, shouting as they ran, "the rebels take the hindmost--now save himself who can!" they had gunboats and transports, and all sorts of crafts, they were all clad in iron, with guns fore and aft, in these they expected in safety to flee-- but such a skedaddle you never did see! awake! to arms in texas! _air--"dixie."_ hear ye not the sound of battle, sabre clash and musket rattle? awake, awake, awake in texas! hostile footsteps on your border; hostile columns tread in order; awake, awake, awake in texas! chorus.--o, fly to arms in texas! to arms! to arms! from texas land we'll rout the band that comes to conquer texas-- awake, awake, and rout the foe from texas. see the red smoke hanging o'er us; hear the cannon's booming chorus; awake, awake, awake in texas! see our steady columns forming; hear the shouting--hear the storming, awake, awake, awake in texas! chorus. all the northmen's forces coming; hark! the distant rapid drumming: awake, awake, awake in texas! prouder ranks than theirs were driven, when our mexic ties were riven; awake, awake, awake in texas. chorus. gird your loins, with sword and sabre; give your lives to freedom's labor; awake, awake, awake in texas! what though ev'ry heart be sadden'd-- what though all the land be redden'd-- awake, awake, awake in texas! chorus. shall this boasting, mad invader, trample texas and degrade her? awake, awake, awake in texas! by our fathers' proud example, texas soil they shall not trample; awake, awake, awake in texas! chorus. texans! meet them on the border; charge them into wild disorder; awake, awake, awake in texas! hew the vandals down before you, till the last inch they restore you; awake, awake, awake in texas! chorus. through the echoing hills resounding, hear the texan bugles sounding; awake, awake, awake in texas! arouse from ev'ry hill and valley; list the bugle! rally! rally! awake, awake, awake in texas! chorus. the capture of seventeen of company h, fourth texas cavalry. _air--"wake snakes and bite a biskit."_ 'twas early in the morning of eighteen sixty-three, we started out on picket, not knowing what we'd see; the bridge we knew was floating. if the yankees should pursue, we knew we should be captured if running we'd not do. to stop and give them battle, we never tho't of it-- the shot at us did rattle, so we tho't we'd better "git," the captain tried to rally us, and so did brave young linn; and rader, too, with pistol drawn--fenly next "put in." rainbolt, too, with angry words attempts to stop our flight, they tell us yet to stop with them, and give the yankees fight: they saw they could not stop us--to try it would be vain-- so their only chance of safety was to give their steeds the rein. now this portion of my story will cause your hearts to bleed, it tells of those who halted while going at full speed. first came billy eddins, with musket shot in thigh, he was told by the yankees, "surrender now or die!" then came poor johnny burns, with sabre cut in head, and near by him, and wounded, stood the still unconquer'd red; then oscar, and june harris stood near in sore affright-- then came the young de marcus, in none the better plight. yarborough, too, with chalky cheek, was walking down the road-- the yankees had to some extent relieved him of his load; his overcoat he had pulled off, and in his shirt he stood, in woeful plight, he was a sight,--his face contain'd no blood. then came the lively lilly, with teeth hard set in wrath, to think that some had pass'd him by, but pick'd him up at last! then burnes came, and maynard, then graham and jim baugh-- the gallant bone was found alone, and bro't back from afar. but of the handsome parton i must not fail to tell; his graceful way of riding you all remember well; but to-day the fates concluded to stop his wild career, so from his horse was jolted by a musket from the rear. the gallant hill, and dashing dees, were spurring for dear life, when a yankee rode with perfect ease upon them with a knife; "surrender, now, my pretty pair; and do it quickly too, stop at once and turn your mare, or i will run you through." they stopp'd at once, and faced about and to the rear did start; and back they came, with legs quite lame, with faint and sinking heart: and there they saw a crowd who were gobbled up that day-- they were the twain that made seventeen, and we were marched away. alabama. words by laura lorrimer. music by j. w. groschel. over vale and over mountain pealing forth in triumph strong, comes a lofty swell of music, alabama's greeting song. in the new-born arch of glory, so, she burns, the central star, never shame shall blight its grandeur, never cloud its radiance mar. chorus.--alabama, alabama, listen, southrons, to the strain, alabama, alabama, shout the rallying cry again. as the gulf waves rushing shoreward, break in music echoes grand, alabama sends this greeting, proudly to her sister band. this her ultimatum, burning, in each heart of southern flame, peace, if gained not by dishonor, but far better war than shame. chorus. let the "northern lion" couchant, on his bleak and froze plain, lift his shaggy front in wonder, and defiant shake his mane. sunward soars the mighty eagle, and where blossom brighter bowers, than amid the green savannahs of this sunny land of ours. chorus. and her sons will rise in legions, bleed and die at her behest, ere a hostile northern footstep trample, conqueror, on her breast. this the faith she plights her sisters, in this glorious southern band, side by side she will be with them, heart with heart, and hand to hand. chorus. imogen. by maj.-gen. j. b. magruder. wake! dearest, wake! 'tis thy lover who calls, imogen; list! dearest, list! the dew gently falls, imogen; arise to thy lattice, the moon is asleep, the bright stars above us their bright vigils keep. [illustration: "thy steed is impatient his mistress to bear."] chorus.--then fear not, my imogen, thou'rt dearer than life! the heart of the soldier is the home of the wife, imogen, the heart of the soldier is the home of the wife. [illustration: "arise to thy lattice, the moon is asleep."] thy steed is impatient his mistress to bear, imogen, home to her lover, on the prairie afar, imogen, belov'd as a maiden, adored as a wife, thou shalt be forever the star of my life. an old texan's appeal. by reuben e. brown. come all ye temper'd hearts of steel--come, quit your flocks and farms, your sports, your plays, your holidays, and hark! away to arms! and hark! away to arms! your sports, your plays, your holidays, and hark! away to arms! for a soldier is a gentleman--his honor is his life-- and he that won't fight at his post shall ne'er stay with his wife! shall ne'er stay with his wife! and he that won't fight at his post, shall ne'er stay with his wife! for love and honor are the same, they are so near alike, they neither can exist alone, but flourish side by side. our country calls us to the field--let's not a moment stay; gird on your arms with cheerfulness, and fearless march away. no foreign power shall us enslave--no northern tyrant reign; 'twas independence made us free, and freedom we'll maintain. the rising world shall sing of us a thousand years to come, and children to their children tell what glories we have won. farewell, sweethearts! 'tis for awhile; my dear, sweet girls, adieu; let's drive these northern dogs away, we'll come and stay with you. and when the war is over, boys, we'll then sit down at ease-- we'll plow and sow, and reap and mow, and do just as we please. arise! ye sons of free-born sires! (lines prompted by the spirit that pervaded the soldiers of galveston on receiving the news of our disaster.) by a. e. morris, company c, twentieth infantry. arise! ye sons of free-born sires; arise! your country save; kindle again the wonted fires that animate the brave: your heritage your foes menace--secure it from their foul embrace-- your chains asunder burst! what tho' they count as harvest-seed--as fathers bled, their sons must bleed, or be forever accursed! the boasted chivalry of yore you can, you must, maintain; let not the scars our fathers bore for us, be borne in vain! degenerate sons of noble sires, by baleful, wild, fanatic fires, and madden'd folly mov'd, profaned their hero's sacred dust--betrayed their country's sacred trust, and double traitors proved. they've rais'd the fratricidal hand--they've shed their brother's blood-- spread desolation thro' your land with sword and fire and blood, your desecrated altars lie ensanguin'd in the deepest dye of holy thing's profaned your homes and towns in ruins piled--your matrons, maids--your very child with foul pollution stained. then rise, ye sons of free-born sires, _once_ more! and freedom's won, kindle again the fervid fires that glow'd in sixty-one! your heritage your foes menace--secure it from their foul embrace-- your chains asunder burst! what tho' they count as harvest-seed--as fathers bled, their sons must bleed, or be fore'er accursed! gay and happy. we're the boys so gay and happy, wheresoever we chance to be-- if at home, or on camp duty, 'tis the same, we're always free! chorus.--then let the yanks say what they will, we'll be gay and happy still; gay and happy, gay and happy, we'll be gay and happy still. chorus. we've left our homes, and those we cherish in our own dear texas land! we would rather fight and perish side by side, and hand in hand. chorus. old virginia needs assistance-- northern hosts invade her soil-- we'll present a firm resistance, courting danger, fire and toil. chorus. then let drums and muskets rattle-- fearless as the name we bore, we'll not leave the field of battle while a yank is on our shore. chorus. baylor's partisan rangers. by mary l. wilson, of san antonio, texas. _air--"dixie."_ hear the summons, sons of texas! now the fierce invaders vex us, come on, come on, come on for texas! daring, dauntless, reckless ranger! first in glory, first in danger-- come on, come on for texas. chorus.--exalt the fame of texas, strike home, strike home! where baylor leads the foeman bleeds! then strike with him for texas-- come on, come on, ye gallant sons of texas! awhile ago they dared defy us-- now they meet us but to fly us; bright the stars and bars are gleaming! bright our future star is beaming! chorus. by base butler's proclamation, by our sister's defamation,-- by the sword of justice sheathless, be the fires of vengeance quenchless. chorus. * * * * * honor, safety, vengeance call you, ere the tyrant's chains enthrall you-- cities burning, women wailing! shall their tears be unavailing? chorus. fiercely now the vandal's smiting, southern homes his torch is blighting-- well he knows he'll conquer never, so would ruin us forever. chorus. a texan's name, who would not wear it? well the foe has learned to fear it! green the laurels for you springing, bright the halo 'round you clinging. chorus. chosen by the gallant morgan! the north has heard the texan slogan; rangers, ask not, give not quarter! be your pathway marked with slaughter! chorus. [illustration: volunteer confederate button.] the horse marines at galveston. _air--"barring of the door."_ it was on a new year's morn so soon, before the break of day, oh! general magruder had laid his plan to catch the yankees in the bay, oh! chorus.--skedaddle, skedaddle, leave horse, spur and saddle, charge! horse marines, with a hoo-way! skedaddle, skedaddle, the yankees will toddle; rush on them with pistol and bowie-- o, skedaddle! magruder march'd down through galveston town, and placed his men on the shore, oh! and the fight then began when he fired the first gun, and the fleet replied with a roar, oh! chorus. the yankees' big shot flew fast, thick and hot, they thought they'd gain'd the day, oh! when bagby and green, with the new horse marine, came rushing down the bay, oh! chorus. the two bayou boats went to butting like goats, the big steamer's deck to gain, oh! then l'on smith, that trump, he made the first jump, right abroad of the harriet lane, oh! chorus. let it not be forgotten, that jim dowlan, the briton, pitch'd in through flood and through flame, oh! from the sinking boat swam to the bayou city ram, and boarded the harriet lane, oh! chorus. then flew the white flag o'er the federal rag; the yankees cried stop! just at light, oh! by cunning and lies, to get off with the prize we had fairly won in the fight, oh! chorus. but general bill scurry, was in too great a hurry, to wait for a three hours' truce, oh! he bagged all ashore, and would have bagged more, had any been lying around loose, oh! chorus. old general magruder will let no intruder our soil with his footsteps pollute, oh! the arizona brigade, with l'on smith as aid, will send them to--butler, the brute, oh! chorus. then rejoice, o rejoice, ye texans, rejoice; charge! horse marines, with a hoo-way! the invaders are dead, ta'en pris'ner, or fled-- they can't stand the pistol and bowie. chorus. i'm thinking of the soldier. by mary e. smith, of austin, texas. o, i'm thinking of the soldier as the evening shadows fall, as the twilight fairy sketches her sad picture on the wall; as the trees are resting sadly on the waveless silence deep, like the barks upon the ocean when the winds are hush'd to sleep. all my soul is with the absent, as the evening shadows fall; while the ghosts of night are spreading o'er the dying light a pall; as the robes of day are trailing in the halls of eventide, and yon radiant star is wooing blushing eve to be his bride. i have shunn'd the cosy parlor--for a silence lingers there, since our lov'd one went to battle, and we find a vacant chair; and a sigh is stealing upward, as the evening spirits come, with the zephyrs, to the bowers of this sadly deserted home. for when soft "good nights" are ended there's a room not like the rest, since a soldier left that chamber and that pillow is unprest; o, my soul is in a shadow, and my heart cannot be gay, as the eve with low refraining comes to shroud the dying day. [illustration: "i'm thinking of the soldier as the evening shadows fall."] for i'm dreaming of the soldier, on his pallet bed of straw; as the leaves are growing yellow and november winds are raw-- and a vision comes before me of aching, fever'd brow; and a proud form blighted, blasted, strangely, strangely alter'd now. and i feel that strong heart beating fainter, fainter with each breath, fluttering softly in its prison, fluttering thro' the gate of death; and a voice of sad despairing stirs my heart's deep fountain now,-- as my hand is slowly wandering o'er that strangely altered brow. and a sigh, soul full of longing, fills the chambers of my soul-- while the quivering heart-strings whisper "life's a tale that soon is told;" god of love, receive the soldier on that dim mysterious shore, where the weary are at rest and souls are sad, ah! nevermore. still the dusky sybil, "future," on her dim, prophetic leaves, writes that death will claim the soldier, when he gathers up his sheaves; this is why i'm ever sighing, and my heart cannot be gay, as the eve with low refraining comes to shroud the dying day. that is why i still am sighing as the deep gray shadows fall, as the twilight spirit settles down her shadows in the hall, and i'm praying for the soldier from a soul with sorrow sore, for our soldier boys have left us--gone, perchance, to come no more. the battle of galveston. by mrs. l. e. caplen, galveston. _air--"the harp that once thro' tara's halls."_ 'twas on that dark and fearful morn, that anxious hearts beat high! and many from their friends were torn beneath the wintry sky. but hark! what cannon roar is that? terrific--but sublime-- wafting some mortals to their graves, far from their northern clime. as the battle rag'd, voices high echoed along the shore, for death or victory was nigh amid the battle's roar. the yanks appeared to gain the ground, their hopes were sure and high, our little boats then hove in sight, which caused their men to cry. magruder, for example sake, the cannon first did fire, when soon their boats were made to quake-- when one embrac'd his sire. but death hath taken for his own their captain, lee, monroe-- and many more they lost that day, whose death they'll long deplore. but were we favored? sure we were, for victory was ours! but death had stolen our gallant wier; our tears did fall in showers. another one, deserving most, the brave and noble son! sherman! thy country's pride! is lost-- a death most nobly won. come, all ye people, far and near, example you must take, for texas men and women are heroes for country's sake! death of gen. albert sidney johnston. by george b. milror, of harrisburg. the sun was sinking o'er the battle plain, where the night winds were already sighing, while, with smiling lips, near his war-horse slain, lay a valiant chieftain dying! and as he sank to his long, last rest, the banner--once o'er him streaming-- he folded 'round his most gallant breast, on the couch that knows no dreaming. proudly he lay on the battle-field, on the banks of the noble river; and the crimson stream from his veins did yield, without a pang or quiver! there were hands that came to bind his wounds, there were eyes o'er the warrior streaming, as he rais'd his head from the bloody ground, where many a brave was sleeping. "now, away," he cried--"your aid is vain! my soul will not brook recalling! i have seen the tyrant enemy slain, and like autumn vine-leaves falling! "i have seen our glorious banner wave o'er the tents of the enemy vanquish'd-- i have drawn a sword for my country brave, and in her cause now perish! "leave me to die with the free and the brave, on the banks of my own noble river-- ye can give me naught but a soldier's grave, and a place in your hearts forever!" god bless our southern land. respectfully inscribed to major-general j. b. magruder, and sung on the occasion of his public reception in the city of houston, texas, jan. , . god bless our southern land, god save our sea-girt land, and make us free; with justice for our shield, may we on battle field never to foemen yield our liberty. o lord! protect the chief who to our prompt relief from threaten'd woe, hasten'd to lead the way; nor faltered in the fray, when from our beauteous bay he drove the foe. and may the gallant band worthy in his command ever to be, have of thy watchful care ever a plenteous share, inspiring each to dare for home and thee. "o lord our god! arise, scatter our enemies, and make them fall!" and when, with peace restored, each man lays by the sword, may he with joy record thy mercies all. southern battle song. _air--"bruce's address."_ raise the southern flag on high! shout aloud the battle cry! let its echoes reach the sky-- "god and southern rights." sons of wealth, and sons of toil, will ye yield your land for spoil, drive the foe from southern soil! glory now invites. rally round our banner bright let its stars of quenchless light dim the base invader's sight, on the battle field. when the death clouds darkly lower, when the cannons blaze and roar, though its folds be drenched in gore, we will never yield. by our sires who fought and bled! by virginia's honored dead! by the blood so lately shed! we will make them know-- southern hearts are true as steel, wrongs like ours are slow to heal, sooner will we die than kneel to a northern foe. [illustration: georgia belt-buckle.] bombardment and battles of galveston. from june , , to january , . by s. r. ezzell, of capt. daly's company. _air--"auld lang syne."_ the yankees hate the lone star state, because she did secede; at galveston they've now begun to make her soldiers bleed. the "old blockade" her threats have made, that she will burn our town; but col. cook, with piercing look, declares he'll stand his ground. high in the breeze he soon did raise the flag with single star, saying, "let them come, we'll give them some, before they are aware." along the coast he soon did post his batteries, well mann'd by men of might, prepared to fight, behind breast-works of sand. like lions brave, their land to save, the cavalry do stand ready to charge the yankee barge that first attempts to land; infantry, too, like soldiers true, who never yet did fail, they long to greet the yankee fleet with musketry like hail. we wait to see the "old santee" come sailing into shore; and then we'll fight for southern rights, and make the cannon roar; but if a fleet we have to meet, of gunboats large and strong, we'll cross the bridge without a siege, and think it nothing wrong. when on mainland, we'll take our stand, and all their hosts defy; there we will fight for southern rights--we'll fight them till we die. * * * * * two months passed by, they came not nigh, but only cruis'd around, as if to find the channel's wind, for which they oft did sound; but this was all, the eagle bald, did not attempt to land; his courage fail'd, away he sailed, and made no more demand. but harriet lane, she did remain, with quite a heavy fleet, she came up nigher and open'd fire in order quite complete; 'twas at fort point she did dismount our best and largest gun; 'twas now in vain here to remain, so we for life did run. 'mid bomb and grape we did escape, and not a life was lost; fearing the town they would burn down over the bridge we crossed; then on mainland we took our stand, determined not to yield, tho' bomb and ball should thickly fall, and we die on the field. gen. herbert he came not near, but strangely stood aloof; from san antone he did look on, where was good old " th proof." * * * * * magruder came, a man of fame, the texas boys to lead; from rio grande he did command, to come with rapid speed; "my plan is laid," he quickly said, "galveston to retake; brave boys!" said he, "come, follow me; we'll make the yankees quake." three bayou crafts, of shallow draught, with cotton breastworks neat; three hundred men, and three small guns, composed our texas fleet; now ready quite, the feds to fight, our land force did repair, along strand street, the yanks to greet, just as our boats came near. the lone star state must seal her fate, in ruin, shame and woe, or bravely fight for southern rights, and triumph o'er the foe; on new year's morn, before day dawn, the year of sixty-three, the new year's gifts came flying swift, both from the land and sea. the lightning glare, both far and near, the darkness did dispel; grape, bomb and ball did thickly fall, our forces to repel; magruder then said to his men, "your country you must save, and still maintain your glorious name, _the bravest of the brave_." we fear'd them not, but bravely fought, our homesteads to maintain; by break of day we had the bay at our command again; the yankee fleet we did defeat, and captur'd all their crews, except a few who were untrue, and sail'd off under truce. general tom green. by mrs. wm. barnes, of galveston. a warrior has fallen! a chieftain has gone! a hero of heroes has sunk to his rest! those hands that wielded the sword and the sabre, now lie pulseless and cold o'er his motionless breast; that voice that has gladden'd valiant comrades in arms, and driven away their deep shadows of gloom, is seemingly hush'd to those seared-stricken hearts, but loudly will speak from its still, hollow tomb! aye, seemingly hush'd, like the black, death-like waters, as they mirror the face of the threatening sky; but see ye the ripple that waves in the distance, warning the mariner that danger is nigh? aye, seemingly hush'd, like the dead, sullen calm, as it heralds vesuvius' virulent ire, ere she, out of her bosom, malignantly pours her dull molten lava, her columns of fire. aye, seemingly hush'd, but the words he has spoken lie deeply incased in the breasts of his men, and tho' to the "echoless shore" he is wafted, his voice will be heard yet again and again; how oft-seated by the bivouac's bright fires, while his men have stood 'round, wrapt in wondrous delight, has he spurred them to noble and chivalric deeds, as he vividly pictured a forthcoming fight. full many a time has the rough, sunburnt hand dash'd the unbidden tear from the veteran's cheek, as of home--that lov'd spot to each memory so dear-- with heartfelt emotion his chieftain would speak; aye, seemingly hush'd is the tongue of the warrior, in their bosom its echo is lingering still; long as their pulse beats, its prompting they yield to-- yes, long as their noble hearts have power to feel. the hero of valverde--the hero of mansfield,-- now sleeps the calm sleep of the happy and blest; those eyes once so lustrous are now sightless and dim, those limbs once so active have sunk to their rest; o there let him lie where the first beams of morning shall shed o'er his tomb a soft halo of light, and the moon's gentle rays that dear spot shall enliven, as she glides on her course through the still, solemn night. plant the wild-tendriled vine and flowers of the prairie o'er the grave of the chieftain that slumbereth there-- how sweetly they'll mingle their gentle perfumes with the orphans' and widows' sweet incense of prayer; let the song of the whippoorwill, pensive and sad, as he flits on the sprays of the green willow tree, and the deep azure waves of the fair colorado, by day and by night his mournful requiems be! hard times! by m. b. smith, co. c, second texas volunteer infantry. just listen awhile, and give ear to my song concerning this war, which will not take me long; old lincoln, the blower, swore the rebels he'd whip, but thanks to my stars, he has not done it yet, for it's hard times. manassa's the spot, if i recollect right, where yankees and southerners had their first fight; we whipped them so badly, our boys thought it fun, and ever since then they have called it bull run, those were grand times. old lincoln had put in his very best man-- it was old general scott who led in his clan-- but in facing jeff davis he couldn't shine, for we captured his cakes, his brandies and wine, then we'd fine times. old abe and the "gen'ral" soon got at "out," which caused the "old gen'ral" to complain of gout; so he told marse abe that he would resign, and he laid all the blame to the very hard times, o, it was hard times. mcclellan was the next man put in the field, with brass-hilted sword and a sole-leather shield; he boasted quite loudly the rebels he'd whip-- but you see, my dear friends, he's not done it yet, for it's hard times. yet there was another, gen. buell, the great, that followed our beauregard clean thro' one state, but at tennessee river he got all his fill-- i'm certain he remembered the shiloh hill! there were banks, shields and fremont, big generals all, while skirmishing 'round ran afoul of "stonewall!" with longstreet and hill, very near by his side, who said: "wo-ee, yankees, let's all have a ride!" old jackson he then got around to their rear, so the day was ours you can see very clear; then he sent a dispatch to brave general lee, "drive all the yankees into eternity?" but at gainesville station they made a bold stand, where they collected a formidable band, and swore to their fill that the rebels they'd whip, but the texans made them everlastingly "git!" now the last i've heard of mcclellan, the third; he was down on james river bogg'd up in the mud, in a bend of the river, near a big pond, the want of more news puts an end to my song. august , . the flag of the southland by major e. w. cave, of houston. _air--"i'm afloat."_ flag of the southland! flag of the free! 'ere thy sons will be slaves, they will perish with thee! thy new-risen star shall light liberty on, 'till the hosts of the tyrant are scatter'd and gone! whether victory sits on the southern plumes, or disaster doth come in some hour of gloom, freedom's hosts will still rally where'er thou shalt be, o flag of the southland! flag of the free! flag of the southland! thy glory has been to be baptized in blood 'midst the great battle's din, from manassas' red plains, o'er the mountains steep, thy stars kept their vigils, where washington sleeps, and the breezes of vernon have borne on the shout of thy triumphant sons as the foes took the rout; valor's trio of genius--beauregard, johnston and lee! guards the flag of the southland--flag of the free! the foe is upon us, but our flag it is there! we have borne it in triumph--its defeat we can share; tho' our cities be burned, tho' our thousands be slain, 'mid the flames of our altars we'll fight him again; and while there's a spot where a patriot band may show to the foe a desperate stand, southern hearts will defy him, their flag will still be the flag of the southland--the flag of the free! in the hour of gloom now thy valorous sons show, that freemen can die, but ne'er yield to the foe! but our shiloh has come--see the enemy flee! his sceptre has sunk 'neath the swift tennessee-- and the southern heart and the southern hand, from classic potomac to bold rio grande, still push on to battle, when floating they see the flag of the southland--the flag of the free! on to glory. sons of freedom, on to glory, go where brave men do or die; let your names in future story gladden every patriot's eye; 'tis your country calls you hasten, backward hurl the invading foe; freemen, never think of danger, to the glorious battle go. oh, remember gallant jackson, single-handed in the fight, death blows dealt the fierce marauder, for his liberty and right; tho' he fell beneath their thousands, who that covets not his fame? grand and glorious, brave and noble, henceforth shall be jackson's name. sons of freedom, can you linger, when you hear the battle roar, fondly dallying with your pleasures when the foe is at your door? never, no, we fear no idlers, death or freedom's now the cry, 'till the "stars and bars" triumphant spread their folds to every eye. stonewall jackson's way. found on the body of a sergeant of the old stonewall brigade, winchester, va. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] come, stack arms, men! pile on the rails, stir up the camp-fire bright; no matter if the canteen fails, we'll make a roaring night; here shenandoah brawls along, to swell the brigade's rousing song of "stonewall jackson's way." we see him now!--the old slouched hat cocked o'er his eye, askew-- the shrewd, dry smile--the speech as pat-- so calm, so blunt, so true. the "blue light elder" knows o'er well-- says he, "that's banks--he's fond of shell-- lord save his soul!--we'll give him"--well, that's "stonewall jackson's way." [illustration: "he's in the saddle now."] silence! ground arms! kneel all! caps off! old blue light's going to pray; strangle the fool that dares to scoff! attention! 'tis his way! appealing from his native sod, _in forma pauperis_ to god-- "lay bare thine arm; stretch forth thy rod; amen!" that's "stonewall's way." he's in the saddle now! fall in! steady--the whole brigade! hill's at the ford cut off! he'll win his way out, ball and blade; what matter if our shoes are worn! what matter if our feet are torn! "quick step--we're with him before dawn!" that's "stonewall jackson's way." the sun's bright lances rout the mists of morning, and, by george, there's longstreet struggling in the lists, hemmed in an ugly gorge-- pope and his yankees whipped before-- "bayonet and grape!" hear stonewall roar, "charge, stuart! pay off ashby's score in stonewall jackson's way." ah, maiden! wait and watch and yearn for news of stonewall's band; ah, widow! read with eyes that burn that ring upon thy hand; ah, wife! sew on, pray on, hope on, thy life shall not be all forlorn-- the foe had better ne'er been born, than get in "stonewall's way." to the beloved memory of maj.-gen. tom green. by captain edwin hobby. in the land of the orange-groves, sunshine and flowers, is heard the funereal tread, and darkly above it, the war-cloud lowers, and a requiem swells thro' its orange bowers, for the brave and noble dead; then trail'd be the banners in dust, and muffled the martial drum, his sword in its scabbard shall rust; with their coming no more will he come-- the earth has received to her bosom its trust-- ashes to ashes--and dust unto dust. in the sunniest realm of that beautiful land, where spring-time her festival's keeping, where the blossoms of summer in splendor expand, by the camp-fire light there's a sorrow bow'd band-- their leader forever is sleeping: then plumed be their banners in black, and softly the bugle be blown. no more shall he be welcomed back by hearts that were twined to his own, 'till the voice from the king on his throne to the earth goeth forth, to give up his trust-- ashes to ashes, and dust unto dust. a sun has been lost from that bright constellation, whose splendor illumines the sky; it sank as we gazed in lov'd admiration; its leaves were the glory and pride of the nation, 'twas liberty's symbol on high, and darkness now hangs on the face of the day; the illustrious hero's at rest; but the fruit of his genius is left us to say how sublime was the chief that is taken away; how much of all hearts he possessed. on new mexico's mountains, his banners waved in the face of the haughtiest foe-- all dangers he scorned, and all odds had he brav'd, and victory seem'd on his banners engrav'd when his genius directed the blow: _val verde!_ a name that in song and story shall brighten our history's pages, 'till crumbled in dust, is the record of glory, 'till valor's forgotten, and nation's grow hoary, undimmed by the shadows of ages. massachusetts' black banner wav'd on galveston's strand, the roll of her drums echoed nightly, (sad sound to the freemen who dwelt on the land), it was heard by his ear, it was caught by his band, a stain on our 'scutcheon unsightly: night closed and morn came, what a change had been wrought! what proud banner floateth there now! ah! the victory's won--green the battle has fought! and the cross of the south, morning's golden beam caught; fresh laurels encircle his brow. at bisland he stood, like a rock in the ocean that stems the strong waves on the shore, calm and unmoved, in the midst of commotion, our army he saved by his dauntless devotion-- what chieftain has ever done more? brashear, and fordoche, pleasant hill and mansfield, all breathe of his glory and fame-- there his genius burst forth like the lightning conceal'd, and destiny seem'd to his glance reveal'd-- fate crowning in triumph his name. o we weep for the veteran hearts that are gone-- scurry, randall, riley, buchel, shepherd, chalmers, ragsdale, raines, mcneal and mouton, their glorious names and deeds shall live on-- peace to the heroes that fell. and o, for the soldiers that bled with them there, their country's strong bulwark and trust, united to do, and the courage to dare. in life they had borne all privation and care, in dust, undivided's their dust. and liberty's tree, from the blood of the brave, in strength and in grandeur shall rise; its branches extend to each ocean's blue wave, and sacred its fruit o'er each patriot's grave: how dearly that fruit shall we prize! is the hero, o say, in that mystical world, surrounded on time's silent shore by the veteran dead, with their banners now furl'd-- war's trumpet unblown, and his lances unhurl'd-- are they still with the chief they adore? tom green is no more! lov'd and honor'd he lies, near his home by the murmuring river-- in the soil he sav'd, 'neath his own southern skies, where praises from lips yet unborn shall arise, and bless him forever and ever. there let him sleep on, undisturb'd in repose, and cease for the hero to sigh-- life's morning was honor--in greatness it rose, 'twas a sunset of splendor, that life at its close, he died as a soldier should die. o'er his hallow'd remains let no monument shine, to tell of the chieftain beneath it, his requiem hymn'd by the sorrow-toned pine, and wildly around it the jessamine twine, and flowers, bright flowers enwreathe it; then silently night-skies their soft dews will shed on the spring-flowers that garland his grave-- one generous sigh for the bosom that bled, one generous tear for the fate of the dead, the noble, the true and the brave. his laurels were pure, and his honor unstained, he lov'd not war's crimson-dyed pall, his nature was peace while the olive remained-- refus'd then the long-baited lion unchain'd-- tom green was then greater than all. affection and love was the pulse of his breast, ever quick at humanity's call-- the widow and orphan his charities bless'd, the friend of the homeless, the poor and distress'd, tom green was the idol of all. galveston, texas, may , . hood's old brigade. "_on the march._" by miss mollie e. moore. 'twas midnight when we built our fires-- we march'd at half-past three! we know not when our march shall end, nor care--we follow lee! the starlight gleams on many a crest, and many a well-tried blade-- this handful marching on the left-- _this_ line is _our_ brigade! our line is short because its veins so lavishly have bled; the missing! search the countless plains whose battles it has led; there are those georgians on our right, their ranks are thinning, too-- how in one company, they say, they now can count but two! there's not much talking down the lines, nor shouting down the gloam; for when the night is 'round us, then we're thinking most of home! i saw yon soldier startle, when we passed an open glade, where the low starlight, leaf and bough a fairy picture made; nor has he uttered word since then-- _my_ heart can whisper why-- 'twas like the spot in texas where he bade his love good-by! and when, beyond us, carelessly, some soldier sang adieu! my comrade here across his eyes his coarse sleeve roughly drew; so, scarcely sound, save trampling feet, is echoed through the gloom-- because when stars are brightest, then we're thinking most of home! hush! what an echo startles up around this rocky hill! was't shell, half-buried, struck my foot? or, stay--'tis a human skull! this ridge i surely seem to know by light of yon rising moon; ha! we battled here three mortal hours one sunday afternoon. last spring! see where our captain stands, his head drooped on his breast-- at his feet that heap of bones and earth-- you know _now_ why his rest is broke off, and why his sword was so bitter in the fray! 'tis the grave of his only brother, who was killed that awful day! hush! for in front i heard a shot, and then a well-known cry-- "it is the foe!" see where the flames mount upward to the sky! it is the foe! halt! rest we here! we wait the coming sun, and ere these stars may shine again a field is _lost or won_! is _won_! it is the "old brigade," this line of stalwart men! the "long roll!" how it thrills my heart to hear that sound again! god shield us, boys! here breaks the day, the stars begin to fade! "now steady here! fall in! fall in! forward! the 'old brigade!'" [illustration: georgia button.] the battle song of the south. words by p. e. collins. music by wm. herz. land of our birth, thee, thee i sing, proud heritage is thine, wide to the breeze thy banner fling, thy freedom ne'er resign. land of the south, the foe defies thy valor! lo, he comes, to prove thy strength, awake, arise! to arms! protect thy homes. bright southern land, the time has come, thy bright historic day, sons of the south, the time has come, drive back the tyrants' sway! strike, southrons, strike! the foe shall flee, nor e'er again invade; the sons of free men shall be free, they cannot slaves be made. land of the south, by right maintained, the day of trial past, the prize of victory will be gained; thou'lt triumph at the last, and future bards your deeds shall tell of valor and renown; what tyranny and hate befell, by southern might cast down. my heart's in mississippi. my heart's in mississippi, 'tis de place whar i was born; 'tis dar i planted sugar cane, 'tis dar i hoed de corn, dey have taken me to texas, a thousand miles below; yet my heart's in mississippi wherever i go. chorus.--yet my heart's in mississippi, 'tis de place whar i was born; 'tis dar i planted sugar cane, 'tis dar i hoed de corn. mobile may boast of beauties, dat lemonade de street; but dey neber hab a sixpence, to ax you to a treat; de mississippi yellow gals, dey always treat dar beaux, den my heart's in mississippi wherever i go. chorus. way down in mississippi, de fields am always green; and orange trees in blossom, de whole year may be seen, dar darkies live like princes, and dar do heel and toe; den my heart's in mississippi, wherever i go. chorus. den fill to mississippi, and let de toast go 'round, rosin up de fiddle-sticks, and let de banjo sound; o fotch along de whiskey, and let de fluid flow: for my heart's in mississippi, boys, wherever i go. chorus. the funeral of albert sydney johnston. he fell and they cried, bring us home our dead! we'll bury him here where the prairies spread, and the gulf waves beat on our southern shores; he will hear them not when he comes once more-- our albert sydney johnston! when he went, how the flushed hope beat high on the brows of the rangers standing nigh! and the champing steeds of the texas plain-- for his voice was that to their bridle rein that the air's to the persian monsoon. but they bore him now to the crash of wheels; no sound of their sorrow the hero feels, tho' many are come that are sad and fair, with flowers and stars for his bloody bier, and weeping they lay them down. and the crescent shone with a wreathing grace around that star on the covered face; no sound but of sobs and a parting look, and the forest sighed and the aspen shook as the train went rumbling on. and down to the feet of the moaning sea, where the waves made the only melody, no band or bell was played or tolled-- but the hero cared not--hate fell cold on the heart of him who slept. where the church was closed by the mandate given, and he lay on the wharf under night and heaven, fair friend and slave with uncovered head, gazed alike on the face of the sleeping dead, and alike in silence wept. so the vigil held, 'till the chastened cloud, for the shame of men, hid its face and bowed; and thousands came when the moon was high, and they bore their burden sadly by, to its rest on the prairie plain. as the prairie flowers that now grow o'er him, where the white-maned steeds that walked before him proud and stepped and slow--and the mourners said, let a stately place for his couch be made-- houston must have its fane. there they lay him out in a proud old hall, with the floor's edge kissing the sacred pall; and thousands came to the hallowed room, 'till the day went down to the night of gloom, for his land did honor him. and when to the bannered march's swell, they bore him out with a lingering knell, sad tears flowed out from a thousand eyes, and a thousand voices were choked with sighs, and the sun in the west was dim. the cotton-burner's song.[ ] lo! when mississippi rolls oceanward its stream, upward mounting, folds on folds flaming fire-tongues gleam; 'tis the planter's grand oblation on the altar of the nation; 'tis a willing sacrifice-- let the golden incense rise-- pile the cotton to the skies! chorus.--lo! the sacrificial flame gilds the starry dome of night! nations! read the mute acclaim-- 'tis for liberty we fight! homes! religion! right! never such a golden light lit the vaulted sky; never sacrifice as bright rose to god on high; thousands oxen, what were they to the offering we pay? and the brilliant holocaust-- when the revolution's past-- in the nation's songs will last! chorus. though the night be dark above, broken though the shield-- those who love us, those we love, bid us never yield; never! though our bravest bleed, and the vultures on them feed; never! though the serpent's race-- hissing hate and vile disgrace-- by the million should menace! chorus. pile the cotton to the skies; lo! the northmen gaze; england! see our sacrifice-- see the cotton blaze! god of nations! now to thee, southrons bend th' imploring knee; 'tis our country's hour of need-- hear the mothers intercede-- hear the little children plead! chorus. [illustration: massa.] the contraband. a song of mississippi negroes in the vicksburg campaign. darkies has you seed my massa wid de mustache on his face? he came along dis morning as dough he'd leave de place. he saw de smoke way up de river, where de lincum gunboats lay: he took his hat and he left mighty sudden, i speck he's runned away. chorus.--massa run, aha! darkey stay, aho! it must be now dat de kingdom's comin', in the year of jubilo. he's six feet one way, four feet t'other, and weighs three hundred pounds; his coat's so big he can't pay de tailor-- den it don't go half around. [illustration: "massa run, aha."] he drills so much dey call him cap'n; and he am so very tan, speck he'll try to fool dem yankees and say he's contraban'. chorus. dis darkey gets so very lonesome, in de cabin on de lawn; he moves his things to massa's parlor, to keep 'em, while he's gone. there's wine and cider in de cellar, and de darkies dey'll have some; i speck it will be confiscated, when de lincum soldiers come. chorus. de overseer will give us trouble, and run us round a spell; we'll lock him up in smoke-house cellar, wid de key thrown in de well. de whip is lost, and de handcuffs broken, and massa'll lose his pay; he's big enough and old enough, dan to gone and runned away. chorus. song of hooker's picket. _southern illustrated news_, feb. st, . i'm 'nation tired of being hired to fight for a shillin' a day; richmond to gain i'll hev to strain, and travel some other way. darn ole abe and ole jeff dave! darn the day i 'listed! when i came down to this 'ere town, jerushy! how i missed it. all day i've stud in rebel mud a watchin' north calinians. i might a bin safe up to lynn, a eatin' clams and inions. all night i sit in straw that's wet, ketchen fleas and other critters; the boys down east are at a feast with gals, doughnuts and fritters. i hain't no pay for many a day;-- nigh unto a year i guess, since a new greenback hev crosst my track-- that's so with all my mess. to pull my trigger for a big buck nigger that lives on hog and hominy, while on hard tack my jaws i crack, ain't war "accordin' to jomini." it's monsus fine for the bobolition line, with mouths full o' pumpkin pie, to preach in meetin' agin' retreatin'-- why don't they come theirselves and try? they'd find the confed's hev mighty hard heads, and are pow'ful smart at shootin'; their love for the old flag would very soon drag-- lord! how you'd see them scootin'. that fool burnside deserves a cowhide, coz he's got neither pluck nor sense; he shook like souse at the phillip's house, while we was murder'd at marye's fence. but it is all one to me who our gen'ral may be, if i've got to die for the nigger, while greeley steps on feathers, and beecher's patent leathers, sets plymouth church in a snigger. war is mighty fine to them that's drinking wine at the big hotels in york; but as for _lousy_ me, that's lost his liberty, _peace_ is the right sort o' talk. i calk'late to stay, until next may, a shiv'rin' in all this slush; but when i git paid, i'm a leetle kinder 'fraid i'll back out hum with a rush. i'll pitch this gun into old bull run, like i did when i follered mcdowell; secesh may go his ways, and i'll spend my days with my gal, my gin and my trowel. oh! i'm sick as a dog, or a mangy hog, of this 'tarnal nasty fightin', that's all gone wrong, and lasts too long for a man that's thinkin' o' kitin'. i'll tell you, mississip, you're an ugly looking rip, and if you'll keep your side o' the water, you may save your powder, and i'll take to chowder, and come no more where i hadn't oughter. no surrender. ever constant, ever true, let the word be, no surrender, boldly dare and greatly do! they shall bring us safely through, no surrender, no surrender! and though fortune's smiles be few, hope is always springing new, still inspiring me and you with a magic, no surrender. nail the colors to the mast shouting gladly, no surrender; troubles near, are all but past, serve them as you did the last, no surrender, no surrender! though the skies be overcast, and upon the sleety blast disappointment gathers fast, beat them off with no surrender. constant and courageous still, mind the word is, no surrender! battle tho' it be up hill, stagger not at seeming ill, no surrender, no surrender! hope, and thus your hope fulfill, there's a way where there's a will, and the way all cares to kill, is to give them no surrender. a southern woman's song. stitch, stitch, stitch, little needle, swiftly fly, brightly glittering as you go; every time that you pass by warms my heart with pity's glow. dreams of comfort that will cheer, through winter's cold, the volunteer, dreams of courage you will bring, smile on me like flowers in spring. stitch, stitch, stitch, swiftly, little needle, fly, through this flannel, soft and warm; though with cold the soldiers sigh, this will sure keep out the storm. set the buttons close and tight out to shut the winter's damp; there'll be none to fix them right in the soldier's tented camp. stitch, stitch, stitch; ah! needle, do not linger; close the thread, make firm the knot; there'll be no dainty finger to arrange a seam forgot. though small and tiny you may be, do all that you are able; a _mouse_ a lion once set free,-- as says the pretty fable. stitch, stitch, stitch, swiftly, little needle, glide, thine's a pleasant labor; to clothe the soldier be thy pride, while he wields the sabre. ours are tireless hearts and hands; to southern wives and mothers, all who join our warlike bands are our friends and brothers. stitch, stitch, stitch, little needle, swiftly fly, from the morning until eve, as the moments pass thee by, these substantial comforts weave. busy thoughts are at our hearts-- thoughts of hopeful cheer, as we toil till day departs for the noble volunteer. quick, quick, quick, swifter, little needle, go; from our homes most pleasant fires let a loving greeting flow to our brothers and our sires; we have tears for those who fall,-- smiles for those who laugh at fear,-- hope and sympathy for all,-- every noble volunteer. general lee at the battle of the wilderness. by tenella. there he stood, the grand old hero, great virginia's god-like son, second unto none in glory--equal of her washington; gazing on his line of battle, as it wavered to and fro 'neath the front and flank advances of the almost conquering foe; calm as was that clear may morning, ere the furious death-roar broke from the iron-throated war lions crouching 'neath the cloudy smoke; cool, as tho' the battle raging was but mimicry of fight, each brigade an ivory castle, and each regiment a knight; chafing in reserve beside him, two brigades of texans lay, all impatient for their portion in the fortune of the day. shot and shell are 'mong them falling, yet unmov'd they silent stand, longing, eager for the battle, but awaiting his command: suddenly he rode before them, as the forward line gave way, rais'd his hat with courtly gesture, "follow me and save the day!" but, as tho' by terror stricken, still and silent stood that troop, who were wont to rush to battle with a fierce avenging whoop. it was but a single moment, then a murmur thro' them ran, heard above the cannon's roaring, as it passed from man to man, "you go back and we'll go forward!" now the waiting leader hears, mixed with deep impatient sobbing, as of strong men moved to tears, once again he gives the order, "i'll lead you on the foe!" then, thro' all the line of battle rang a loud determined "no!" quick as thought a gallant major, with a firm and vice-like grasp, seized the general's bridle, shouting, "forward, boys! i'll hold him fast!" then again the hat was lifted, "sir, i am the older man: loose my bridle, i will lead them!" in a measured tone and calm. trembling with suppressed emotion, with intense excitement hot, in a quivering voice, the texan, "no, by god, sir, you shall not!" by them swept the charging squadron, with a loud exultant cheer, "we'll retake the salient, general, if you'll watch us from the rear!" and they kept their word right nobly, sweeping every foe away, with that grand grey head uncovered, watching how they saved the day-- but the god-like calm was shaken, which no battle shock could move, by this true, spontaneous token of his soldiers' child-like love! my noble warrior, come! by mrs. col. c. g. f----y. _air--"the rock beside the sea."_ o, tell me not that earth is fair, that spring is in its bloom, while young hearts, hourly, everywhere meet such untimely doom; that sweet on wind, of morn or eve, the violet's breath may be, let me but know thy banner waves, and leads to victory! let me but know, etc. the thundering battle's distant roar, the host's victorious cry, unto my trembling heart is more than all earth's melody; come back, my noble warrior, come! there's but one prayer for me, 'till i can greet thy banner home, proud banner of the free! till i can greet, etc. song of the privateer by alex. a. cummins. fearlessly the seas we roam, tossed by each briny wave; its boundless surface is our home, its bosom deep our graves. no foreign mandate fills with awe our gallant hearted band; we know no home, we know no law, but that of dixie's land. the bright star is our compass true, our chart the ocean wide; our only hope the noble few that's standing side by side; we do not fear the stormy gale that sweeps old ocean's strand; we scorn our enemy's clumsy sail, and all for dixie's land. we love to hoist to the topmost peak, _our southern stars and stripes_; and woe to him who dares to seek to trample on their rights! it is the ægis of the free, and by it we will stand, and watch it waving o'er the sea, and over dixie's land. we love to roam the deep, deep sea, and hear the cannon's boom, and give the war-cry, wild and free, amid the battle's gloom, we do not fight alone for gain, so far from native strand; but our country's freedom and its fame, and the fair of dixie's land. hood's texas brigade. down by the valley, 'mid thunder and lightning, down by the valley, 'mid shadows of night, down by the deep crimson'd valley of richmond, twenty-five hundred mov'd on to the fight; onward, still onward, to the portals of glory, to the sepulchral chambers, yet never dismayed; down by the deep crimson'd valley of richmond, march'd the bold warriors of hood's texas brigade! see ye the fires and flashes still leaping? see ye the tempest and jettings of storm? see ye the banners of proud texan heroes, in front of her column, move steadily on? hear ye the music that gladdens each comrade, riding on wings through torrents of sounds? hear ye the booming adown the red valley? riley unbuckles his swarthy old hounds![ ] valiant fifth texas! i saw your brave column rush through the channels of living and dead; sturdy fourth texas! why weep, your old warhorse? he died as he wish'd, in the gear, at your head: west point! ye will tell, on the pages of glory, how the blood of the south ebb'd away near your shade, and how sons of texas fought in the red valley, and fell in the columns of hood's texas brigade. fathers and mothers, ye weep for your jewels; sisters, ye weep for your brothers in vain; maidens, ye weep for your sunny-eyed lovers-- weep, for you'll never behold them again! but know ye that vict'ry, the shrine of the noble, encircles the house of death newly made! and know ye that freedom, the shrine of the mighty, shines forth on the banners of hood's texas brigade! daughters of southland, come bring ye bright flowers, weave ye a chaplet for the brow of the brave; bring ye the emblems of freedom and victory; bring ye the emblems of death and the grave; bring ye some motto befitting a hero; bring ye exotics that never will fade; come to the deep crimson'd valley of richmond, and crown our young chief of the texas brigade! sweethearts and the war. oh, dear! its shameful, i declare, to make the men all go and leave so many sweethearts here without a single beau. we like to see them brave, 'tis true, and would not urge them stay; but what are we, poor girls, to do when they are all away? we told them we could spare them there, before they had to go; but, bless their hearts, we weren't aware that we should miss them so. we miss them all in many ways, but truth will ever out, the greatest thing we miss them for is seeing us about. on sunday, when we go to church, we look in vain for some to meet us, smiling, on the porch, and ask to see us home. and then we can't enjoy a walk since all the beaux have gone; for what's the good (to use plain talk), if we must trudge alone? but what's the use of talking thus? we'll try to be content; and if they cannot come to us a message may be sent. and that's one comfort, anyway; for though we are apart, there is no reason why we may not open heart to heart. we trust it may soon come to a final test; we want to see our southern homes secured in peaceful rest. but if the blood of those we love in freedom's cause must flow, with fervent trust in god above, we bid them onward go. and we will watch them as they go, and cheer them on their way: our arms shall be their resting-place when wounded sore they lay. oh! if the sons of southern soil for freedom's cause must die, her daughters ask no dearer boon than by their side to lie. jackson's resignation. a yankee soliloquy before the battle of fredericksburg. by tenella. well, we can whip them now i guess, if jackson has resigned, general lee in "fighting burnside," more than his match will find: we're done with slow mcclellan, who kept us "digging dirt," and now are "on to richmond," where some one "will be hurt." again around the rebels the anaconda coils, for east and west, and north and south, we have them in our toils; we'd have beat them at manassas if mcdowell had not slipped, when he tried to leap this stonewall, who don't know when he's whipped. we'd have laid them in the valley so low they could not rise, but banks must run against it, and spill all his supplies. now if that fool jeff davis has let stonewall resign, we can go "on to richmond" by the rappahannock line. but they say he's a shrewd fellow who knows a soldier well, and stood by sidney johnston until in death he fell; "if johnston is no general, then, gentlemen, i've none," he said to those who grumbled, when donelson we won. and i don't believe that jackson's resignation he'll accept-- hallo!!!--a rebel picket-- how close the rascal crept! "say, stranger, is it true that jackson has resigned?" "well, yes--i reckon so-- heard somethin' of the kind." "what for? did old jeff davis put a sub. above his head?" "no--they took away his commissary, so i've heard it said." "well, _we_ are glad to hear it, and will tender them our thanks, but who was jackson's commissary?" "_your major-general banks._" "confound your rebel impudence! he'd be very smart indeed, if from supplies for _one_ intended, _two_ armies he could feed." _southern illustrated news_, april, . we left him on the field. by miss maria e. jones, of galveston, tex. we left him on the crimson'd field, where battle storms had swept, we know the soldier's fate was seal'd-- no wonder that we wept. some have, perhaps, as nobly fought, and some as bravely fell, where the red sword its work hath wrought, but none we lov'd so well. o deem us not a faithless band, who left him to the foe; his latest accent of command, was when he bade us go! yet one still linger'd near his side, to watch his fleeting breath, to mark the ebbing of life's tide and pale approach of death. but ere we left our captain there, he gave us each a word, some thought of kind, remembering care-- "here, warren, take my sword-- you'll be their captain now, you know; but, friend, remember then," said he, "how well i loved them; be faithful to my men! [illustration: "he faintly smiled and waved his hand."] "wear the sword well. the gift is small, but with it goes my love, good-bye, boys! heaven bless you all; i'm ordered up above, and there can be no countermand-- i know my fate is seal'd!" he faintly smiled, and wav'd his hand-- we left him on the field. mother! is the battle over? mother! is the battle over? thousands have been killed they say-- is my father coming?--tell me, have the southrons gain'd the day? is he well, or is he wounded? mother, do you think he's slain? if you know, i pray you tell me--will my father come again? mother, dear, you're always sighing since you last the paper read-- tell me why you now are crying--why that cap is on your head? ah! i see you cannot tell me--father's one among the slain! altho' he lov'd us very dearly, he will never come again! a north carolina call to arms. by luola. _air--"the old north state."_ ye sons of carolina! awake from your dreaming! the minions of lincoln upon us are streaming! oh! wait not for argument, call, or persuasion to meet at the onset this treach'rous invasion! chorus.--defend, defend the old north state forever; defend, defend the good old north state. oh! think of the maidens, the wives, and the mothers; fly ye to the rescue, sons, husbands, and brothers, and sink in oblivion all party and section; your hearth-stones are looking to you for protection! chorus. the babe in its sweetness, the child in its beauty, unconsciously urge you to action and duty! by all that is sacred, by all to you tender, your country adjures, arise and defend her! chorus. the star-spangled banner, dishonored, is streaming o'er lands of fanatics; their swords are now gleaming; they thirst for the life-blood of those you most cherish; with brave hearts and true, then, arouse, or they perish. chorus. round the flag of the south, oh! in thousands now rally, for the hour's departed when freemen may sally; your all is at stake; then go forth and god speed you, and onward to glory and victory lead you! chorus.--hurrah! hurrah! the old north state forever! hurrah! hurrah! the good old north state. dixie. by albert pike. southrons, hear your country call you! up! lest worse than death befall you! to arms! to arms! to arms! in dixie! lo! all the beacon-fires are lighted, let all hearts be now united! to arms! to arms! to arms! in dixie! advance the flag of dixie! hurrah! hurrah! chorus.--for dixie's land we'll take our stand, to live or die for dixie! to arms! to arms! and conquer peace for dixie! to arms! to arms! and conquer peace for dixie! hear the northern thunders mutter! northern flags in south winds flutter! send them back your fierce defiance, stamp upon the accurs'd alliance! fear no danger! shun no labor! lift up rifle, pike and sabre! shoulder pressing close to shoulder, let the odds make each heart bolder! how the south's great heart rejoices at your cannon's ringing voices; for faith betrayed and pledges broken, wrong inflicted, insults spoken. strong as lions, swift as eagles, back to their kennels hunt these beagles! cut the unequal bonds asunder! let them hence each other plunder. swear upon your country's altar, never to submit or falter, 'till the spoilers are defeated, 'till the lord's work is completed. halt not till our federation, secures among earth's powers its station! then at peace, and crowned with glory, hear your children tell the story. if the loved ones weep in sadness, victory soon shall bring them gladness; exultant pride soon banish sorrow, smiles chase tears away to-morrow. battle song. have you counted up the cost? what is gained and what is lost-- when the foe your lines have crossed? gained--the infamy of fame? gained--a dastard's spotted name; gained--eternity of shame. lost--desert of manly worth; lost--the right you had by birth; lost--lost! freedom from the earth! freemen, up! the foe is nearing! haughty banners high uprearing-- lo! their serried ranks appearing! freemen, on! the drums are beating! will you shrink from such a meeting? forward! give them hero greeting! from your hearts, and homes, and altars, backward hurl your proud assaulters-- he is not a man that falters! over the river. by virginia norfolk. "let us cross the river, and rest under the shade of the trees."--_last words of stonewall jackson._ bravely ye've fought, my gallant, gallant men! bravely ye've fought and well! yon blood-stained field, where your banner floats, tells how your foemen fell! ye are recreant none to your knightly vows, and none to your high behest; but the noon sun shines on your burning brows-- so, over the river and rest! chorus.--over the river the shade trees grow-- over the river we'll rest! ye have fought the fight--won the praise that brings peace to the soldier's breast! bravely ye've conquered, my gallant southern men! ye have won your rights anew! ye have washed out the stain of traitor blood, with the baptism of the true! your clanging armor and flashing steel have told of a deadly fray; but foemen are flying right and left! ye have had a glorious day! chorus. foemen are flying! aye, madly they've fled, and peace waves her snow-white wing! but we mourn the loss of our gallant dead, while the hills with victory ring! one warrior wears his laurel crown,-- one sleeps on his plumed crest! while the palm tree waves by the river side, there, soldiers, will we rest! chorus. the man of the twelfth of may.[ ] by robert falligant, savannah, ga. when history tells her story, of the noble hero band, who have made the green fields gory, for the life of their native land, how grand will be the picture, of georgia's proud array, as they drove the boasting foeman back, on that glorious twelfth of may, boys, that glorious twelfth of may. chorus.--then hurrah! while we rally around the hero of that day! and a nation's grateful praises crown, the man of the twelfth of may, boys, the man of the twelfth of may. whose mien is ever proudest, when we hold the foe at bay? whose war-cry cheers us loudest, as we rush to the bloody fray? 'tis gordon's! our reliance! fearless as on the day, when he hurled his grand defiance, in that charge of the twelfth of may, boys, in that charge of the twelfth of may! chorus. who can be a coward! what freeman fears to die, when gordon orders, "forward!" and the red cross floats on high? follow his tones inspiring! on! on to the field away! and we'll see the foe retiring, as they did on the twelfth of may, boys, as they did on the twelfth of may! chorus. this is no time for sighing! whate'er our fate may be, 'tis sweet to think that, dying, we will leave our country free! when the storms of battle pelt her, she'll defy the tyrants' sway, and our breasts shall be her shelter, as they were on the twelfth of may, boys, as they were on the twelfth of may! chorus. morgan's war song. cheer, boys, cheer! we'll march away to battle! cheer, boys, cheer! for our sweethearts and our wives! cheer, boys, cheer! we'll nobly do our duty, and give to the south our hearts, our arms, our lives. bring forth the flag--our country's noble standard; wave it on high 'till the wind shakes each fold out: proudly it floats, nobly waving in the vanguard; then cheer, boys, cheer! with a lusty, long, bold shout, cheer, boys, cheer! etc. but as we march, with heads all lowly bending, let us implore a blessing from on high; our cause is just--the right from wrong defending; and the god of battle will listen to our cry. cheer, boys, cheer! etc. tho' to our homes we never may return, ne'er press again our lov'd ones in our arms, o'er our lone graves their faithful hearts will mourn, then cheer up, boys, cheer! such death hath no alarms. cheer, boys, cheer! etc. the song of the exile. _air--"dixie."_ oh! here i am in the land of cotton, the flag once honor'd is now forgotten; fight away, fight away, fight away for dixie's land. but here i stand for dixie dear, to fight for freedom, without fear; fight away, fight away, fight away for dixie's land. chorus.--for dixie's land i'll take my stand, to live or die for dixie's land, fight away, fight away, fight away for dixie's land. abe lincoln tore through baltimore, in a baggage car with fastened door; fight away, etc. and left his wife, alas! alack! to perish on the railroad track! fight away, etc. chorus. we have no ships, we have no navies, but mighty faith in the great jeff davis; fight away, etc. brave old missouri shall be ours, despite abe lincoln's northern powers, fight away, etc. chorus. abe's proclamation in a twinkle, stirred up the blood of rip van winkle; fight away, etc. jeff davis's answer was short and curt: "fort sumpter's taken, and nobody's hurt!" fight away, etc. chorus. we hear the words of this same ditty, to the right and left of the mississippi; fight away, etc. in the land of flowers, hot and sandy, from delaware bay to rio grande! fight away, etc. chorus. the ladies cheer with heart and hand, the men who fight for dixie land; fight away, etc. the "stars and bars" are waving o'er us, and independence is before us; fight away, etc. chorus. martinsburg, va. [illustration: cavalry button.] national hymn. words by capt. e. griswold. music by j. w. groschel. now let the thrilling anthem rise, o'er all the glorious land, where tow'ring hills usurp the skies, and valleys broad expand. where each majestic river rolls, where wave the fields of grain, let southern hearts and southern souls repeat the exulting strain. chorus.--the cross and bars, its gleaming stars, shall float o'er land and main; the cross and bars, its gleaming stars, shall float o'er land and main; confederate sov'reign state we stand, god save our land, god save our land; confederate sov'reign state we stand, god save our land, god save our land, god save our land, god save our land. where golden fruited orange blossoms, green lemon grove and bower, and where the tall magnolia looms, with proud imperial flower, where bursting from their ripened bolls, the cotton spreads the plain. let southern hearts and southern souls repeat the exulting strain. chorus. where happy vassals chant their song, in fields and homes and boats, where mocking birds the chords prolong, swelling their mottled throats, where law's broad ægis still upholds enlightened freedom's claim. chorus. where in the southern zenith glows the warmth the sun imparts, afar from frigid northern snows, and bustling northern marts, where generous impulse still controls, and scorns polluting stain, let southern hearts and southern souls, repeat th' exulting strain. chorus. and still from age to age repeat the tale of battles won, when bigot northmen found defeat before each southern son. proudly recount the muster rolls of living braves and slain, let southern hearts and southern souls repeat th' exulting strain. chorus. where chesapeake's broad waters glow round maryland's green lands, to where the gulf and ocean bow by florida's white sands; from where the mad atlantic rolls to rio grande's plain, let southern hearts and southern souls repeat th' exulting strain. chorus. over the river. (_mississippi_). by miss maria e. jones. over the river there are fierce, stern meetings, no kindly clasp of hand, no welcome call; but hatred swells the chorus of the greetings, of foes who meet at death's high carnival; no flash of wine-cups, but the red blood streaming from ragged wounds, upon the thirsty sand, and fierce, wild music of bright sabre gleaming, where eager foemen grapple hand to hand. over the river are our lov'd ones lying, alone and wounded on the couch of pain; consum'd by wasting fevers--even dying-- sighing for those they ne'er may see again; there are untended graves where grass is growing rankly and tall o'er each lone sleeper's head; there are long trenches, where bright flowers blowing, mark the common grave of thousands dead. over the river victory shouts of gladness, great waves of joy rise above seas of woe; over the river comes a wail of sadness, a city's fallen, or a chief laid low; alas! for us! we must sit still and ponder upon the woes of battle all the day, and dream, and sew, and weep, while our thoughts wander over the river! let us watch and pray. private maguire. "och, it's nate to be captain or colonel, divil a bit would i want to be higher; but to rust as a private, i think's an infernal predicament, surely," says private maguire. "they can go sparkin' and playin' at billiards, with money to spend for their slightest desire, loafin' and atin' and drinkin' at ballard's, while we're on the pickets," says private maguire. "livin' in clover, they think it's a trifle to stand out all night in the rain and the mire, and a yankee hard by, with a villainous rifle, just riddy to pop ye," says private maguire. "faith, now, it's not that i'm afther complainin', i'm spilin' to meet ye, abe lincoln, esquire! ye blaggard! it's only i'm weary of thrainin', and thrainin', and thrainin'," says private maguire. "o lord, for a row! but maguire, boy, be aisy, kape yourself swate for the inimy's fire; general lee is the chap that shortly will plaze ye, be the holy st. patrick!" says private maguire. "and, lad, if ye're hit (o, bedad, that infernal jimmy o'dowd would make love to maria!) whether ye're captain, or major, or colonel, ye'll die with the best then," says private maguire. stonewall jackson. by a lady formerly of richmond. _tune_--"_the coronack._" unmoved in the battle, whilst friends and foes swerved, midst roaring and rattle, his heroes were nerved. on manassas' red plain, their unyielding front, gave their chieftain that name, so strong in war's brunt. he swoops from the mountain, like our own regal bird; o'er potomac's blue fountain, his war scream is heard. though his foeman be brave, they shrink from his sword, who its mighty power gave, is the triumphant lord! again from the mountain, through forest and valley, once more near that fountain, his invincibles rally. like our own mountain eagle, he swoops on the foemen, and the cohorts of lincoln fly and cower before him! * * * * southern song. _tune_--"_wait for the wagon._" come, all ye sons of freedom, and join our southern band, we are going to fight the yankees, and drive them from our land. justice is our motto, and providence our guide; so jump into the wagon, and we'll all take a ride. chorus.--so wait for the wagon! the dissolution wagon; the south is the wagon, and we'll all take a ride. secession is our watchword; our rights we all demand; to defend our homes and firesides we pledge our hearts and hands. jeff davis is our president, with stephens by his side; great beauregard, our general, he joins us in our ride. chorus. our wagon is the very best; the running gear is good; stuffed round the sides with cotton, and made of southern wood. carolina is the driver, with georgia by her side, virginia holds the flag up while we all take a ride. chorus. old lincoln and his congressmen, with seward by his side, put old scott in the wagon, just for to take a ride. mcdowell was the driver, to cross bull run he tried, but there he left the wagon for beauregard to ride. chorus. the invading tribe, called yankees, with lincoln for their guide, tried to keep good old kentucky, from joining in the ride; but she heeded not their entreaties,-- she has come into the ring; she wouldn't fight for a government, where cotton wasn't king. chorus. manassas was the battle-ground; the field was fair and wide; the yankees thought they'd wipe us out, and on to richmond ride. but when they met our "dixie" boys, their danger they espied, they wheeled about for washington and didn't wait to ride. chorus. brave beauregard, god bless him! led legions in his stead, while johnson seized the colors, and waved them o'er his head. so rising generations, with pleasure we will tell, how bravely our fisher, and gallant johnson fell. chorus. _raleigh register._ the band in the pines. by john esten cooke. o band in the pine wood, cease! cease with your splendid call! the living are brave and noble, but the dead were bravest of all! they throng in the martial summons, the loud, triumphant strain; and the dear, bright eyes of long-dead friends, come to the heart again. they come with the ringing bugle and the deep drum's mellow roar-- and the soul is faint with longing for the hands we clasp no more! o band in the pine wood, cease! or the heart will melt in tears, for the gallant eyes and the smiling lips, and the voices of old years! _southern illustrated news._ [illustration: "though fifteen summers scarce have shed their blossoms on thy brow."] my warrior boy. _metropolitan record._ music by a. e. a. muse. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] thou hast gone forth, my darling one, to battle with the brave, to strike in freedom's sacred cause, or win an early grave; with vet'rans grim, and stalwart men, thy pathway lieth now, though fifteen summers scarce have shed their blossoms on thy brow. my babe in years, my warrior boy! o! if a mother's tears could call thee back to be my joy, and still these anxious fears, i'd dash the traitor drops away, that would unnerve thy hand, now raised to strike in freedom's cause, for thy dear native land. [illustration: "come back to me my darling son, and light my life again."] god speed thee on thy course, my boy, where'er thy pathway lie, and guard thee when the leaden hail, shall thick around thee fly; but when our sacred cause is won, and peace again shall reign, come back to me, my darling son, and light my life again. the rebel band. old eve she did the apple eat, old eve she did the apple eat, old eve she did the apple eat, and smacked her lips and called it sweet. chorus.--do you belong to the rebel band, fighting for your home. there was a time, the poets say, there was a time, the poets say, there was a time, the poets say, when this world was washed away. chorus. how old noah built him an ark, how old noah built him an ark, how old noah built him an ark, of gopher wood and hickory bark. chorus. the ark rested on mount ararat, the ark rested on mount ararat, the ark rested on mount ararat, a mile and a half from manassas' gap. chorus. the animals came in two by two, the animals came in two by two, the animals came in two by two, the camamile and the kangaroo. chorus. now old noah got very drunk, now old noah got very drunk, now old noah got very drunk, and old ham pulled him out of his bunk. chorus. old noah got mad as he could be, old noah got mad as he could be, old noah got mad as he could be, and sent old ham to afrikee. chorus. the southern soldier boy. words by father ryan. music by w. ludden. young as the youngest who donned the gray, true as the truest who wore it, brave as the bravest he marched away, (hot tears on the cheeks of his mother lay); triumphant waved our flag one day, he fell in the front before it. chorus.--a grave in the wood with the grass o'ergrown, a grave in the heart of his mother, his clay in the one, lifeless and lone, but his memory lives in the other. firm as the firmest where duty led, he hurried without a falter; bold as the boldest he fought and bled, and the day was won--but the field was red; and the blood of his fresh young heart was shed, on his country's hallowed altar. chorus. on the trampled breast of the battle plain, where the foremost ranks had wrestled, the fairest form 'mid all the slain, like a child asleep he nestled. in the solemn of the woods that swept the field where his comrades found him, they buried him there--and strong men wept, as in silence they gathered 'round him. chorus. the cavalier's glee. by capt. blackford, of general stuart's staff. _air--"the pirate's glee."_ spur on! spur on! we love the bounding of barbs that bear us to the fray; "the charge" our bugles now are sounding, and our bold stuart leads the way. chorus.--the path to honor lies before us our hated foeman gather fast; at home bright eyes are sparkling for us, and we'll defend them to the last. spur on! spur on! we love the rushing of steeds that spurn the turf they tread; we'll through the northern ranks go crushing, with our proud battle-flag o'erhead. chorus. spur on! spur on! we love the flashing of blades that battle to be free; 'tis for our sunny south they're clashing, for household gods and liberty. chorus. song. _air--"faintly flows the falling river."_ here we bring a fragrant tribute, to the bed where valor sleeps, though they missed the victor's triumph, o'er their tomb a nation weeps, honor through all time be rendered, to their proud, heroic names, fondly be their mem'ry cherished, bright their never-dying fame. glowing in young manhood's beauty, sprang they at their country's call, made before the foeman's legions 'round our homes a living wall. by disease's foul breath withered, ere had dawned the battle-day, on the fever couch of anguish, thousands passed from earth away. thousands, after deeds whose daring, with their glory filled the land, fell before the flying foeman, on the fields won by their hand. mourning o'er the fruitless struggle, bowed beneath the hand of god, come we weeping and yet proudly, now to deck this sacred sod. we conquer or die. by james pierpont, . permission of henri wehrman. the war drum is beating; prepare for the fight, the stern bigot northman exults in his might, gird on your bright weapons, your foeman is nigh, and this be your watchword, "we conquer or die." the trumpet is sounding from mountain to shore, your swords and your lances must slumber no more. fling forth to the sunlight your banner on high, inscribed with the watchword, "we conquer or die." march on to the battlefield, there do or dare, with shoulder to shoulder, all danger to share, and let your proud watchword ring up to the sky, till the blue arch re-echoes, "we conquer or die." press forward undaunted, no thought of retreat, the enemy's host on the threshold to meet, strike firm, 'til the foemen before you shall fly, appalled by the watchword, "we conquer or die." go forth in the pathway our forefathers trod; we too fight for freedom, our captain is god, their blood in our veins, with their honor we vie; their's too was the watchword, "we conquer or die." we strike for the south: mountains, valley and plain, for the south we will conquer, again and again, her day of salvation and triumph is nigh, our's then be the watchword, "we conquer or die." god will defend the right. words and music by a lady of richmond. [the music of this song can be obtained of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] sons of the south arise, rise in your matchless might, your war-cry echo to the skies, "god will defend the right." let-haughty tyrants know, our sunny land shall be in spite of every foe, home of the brave and free. chorus.--sons of the south arise, rise in your matchless might, your war-cry echo to the skies, "god will defend the right." our flag shall proudly stream, defiant of assault, bars of rainbows brightest beam, and stars from heaven's blue vault. thousands of true and brave, their hero lives may end, o'er thousands that flag shall wave, thousands its folds defend. chorus. no wrongs our breasts alarm, no fears our hearts appal, unswerving justice nerves our arm, we cannot conquered fall. think on our noble sires, immortal in renown, think on our altar-fires, and strike the oppressor down! chorus. with threats of horror dire, the fierce invader comes; we scorn his boasts, we scorn his ire, striking for hearths and homes. strike for our mothers now, for daughters, sisters, wives, truly would each bestow, were it ten thousand lives. chorus. richmond on the james; or, the dying texas soldier boy. a parody by annie marie neeby. a soldier boy from texas lay gasping on the field, when the battle's shock was over, and the foe was forced to yield; he fell, a youthful hero, before the foeman's aims, on a blood-red field near richmond--near richmond on the james. but one still stood beside him--his comrade in the fray-- they had been friends together in boyhood's happy day; and side by side had struggled on fields of blood and flames, to part that eve at richmond--near richmond on the james. he said, "i charge thee, comrade, of the friends in days of yore, of the far, far distant dear ones that i shall see no more-- tho' scarce my lips can whisper their dear and well-known names, to bear to them my blessing from richmond on the james. "bear to my brother this sword, and the badge upon my breast to the young and gentle sister that i used to love the best; but one lock from my forehead give the mother still that dreams of her soldier boy near richmond--near richmond on the james. "i wish that mother's arms were folded round me now, that her gentle hand could linger, one moment on my brow, but i know that she is praying where our blessed hearthlight gleams, for her soldier boy's safe return from richmond on the james. "and on my heart, dear comrade, lay close these auburn braids, of one that is the fairest of all our village maids; we were to have been wedded, but death the bridegroom claims, and she is far that loves me, from richmond on the james. "o, does the pale face haunt her, dear friend, that looks on thee, or is she laughing, singing, in careless, girlish glee? it may be she is joyous, and loves but joyous themes, nor dreams her love lies bleeding near richmond on the james. "and tho' i know, dear comrade, thou'lt miss me for a while, when their faces--all left to love thee--again on thee shall smile, again thou'lt be the foremost in all their youthful games, but i shall lie near richmond--near richmond on the james." the land is fill'd with mourning from hall and cot left lone, we miss the well-known faces that used to greet our own, and long shall weep poor wives, mothers, and titled dames, to hear the name of richmond--of richmond on the james. richmond is a hard road to travel. dedicated to gen'l a. e. burnside. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] would you like to hear my song, i'm afraid it's rather long, of the famous "on to richmond" double trouble; of the half a dozen trips, and half a dozen slips, and the very latest bursting of the bubble? 'tis pretty hard to sing, and like a round, round ring, 'tis a dreadful knotty puzzle to unravel, though all the papers swore, when we touched virginia's shore, that richmond was a hard road to travel. chorus.--then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve, for richmond is a hard road to travel; then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve, for richmond is a hard road to travel, i believe! first, mcdowell, bold and gay, set forth the shortest way, by manassas, in the pleasant summer weather, but unfortunately ran on a stonewall, foolish man, and had a "rocky journey" altogether; and he found it rather hard to ride o'er beauregard, and johnston proved a deuce of a bother, and 'twas clear, beyond a doubt, that he didn't like the route, and a second time would have to try another. chorus.--then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve, for manassas is a hard road to travel, manassas gave us fits, and bull run made us grieve, for richmond is a hard road to travel, i believe! next came the woolly-horse,[ ] with an overwhelming force, to march down to richmond by the valley, but he couldn't find the road, and his "onward movement" showed his campaigning was a mere shilly-shally. then commissary banks, with his motley, foreign ranks, kicking up a great noise, fuss and flurry, lost the whole of his supplies, and with tears in his eyes, from the stonewall ran away in a hurry. chorus.--then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve, for the valley is a hard road to travel, the valley wouldn't do, and we had all to leave, for richmond is a hard road to travel, i believe! then the great galena came, with her port-holes all aflame, and the monitor, that famous naval wonder, but the guns at drury's bluff gave them speedily enough, the loudest sort of reg'lar rebel thunder. the galena was astonished and the monitor admonished, our patent shot and shell were mocked at, while the dreadful naugatuck, by the hardest kind of luck, was knocked into an ugly cocked hat. chorus.--then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve, for james river is a hard road to travel, the gun-boats gave it up in terror and despair, for richmond is a hard road to travel, i declare! then mcclellan followed soon, both with spade and balloon, to try the peninsular approaches, but one and all agreed that his best rate of speed, was no faster than the slowest of "slow coaches." instead of easy ground, at williamsburg he found a longstreet indeed, and nothing shorter, and it put him in the dumps, that spades wasn't trumps, and the hills he couldn't level "as he orter." chorus.--then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve, for longstreet is a hard road to travel, lay down the shovel and throw away the spade, for richmond is a hard road to travel, i'm afraid. then said lincoln unto pope, "you can make the trip, i hope;" "i will save the universal yankee nation, to make sure of no defeat, i'll leave no lines of retreat, and issue a famous proclamation." but that same dreaded jackson, this fellow laid his whacks on, and made him by compulsion, a seceder.[ ] and pope took rapid flight from manassas' second fight, 'twas his very last appearance as a leader. chorus.--then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve, for stonewall is a hard road to travel, pope did his very best, but was evidently sold, for richmond is a hard road to travel, i'm told! last of all the _brave_ burnside, with his pontoon bridge, tried a road no one had thought of before him, with two hundred thousand men for the rebel slaughter pen, and the blessed union flag waving o'er him, but he met a fire like hell, of canister and shell, that mowed his men down with great slaughter, 'twas a shocking sight to view, that second waterloo, and the river ran with more blood than water. chorus.--then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve, rappahannock is a hard road to travel, burnside got in a trap, which caused him for to grieve, for richmond is a hard road to travel, i believe! we are very much perplexed to know who is the next to command the new richmond expedition, for the capital _must blaze_, and that in ninety days, and jeff and his men be sent to perdition. we'll take the cursed town, and then we'll burn it down, and plunder and hang each cursed rebel; yet the contraband was right when he told us they would fight, "oh! yes, massa, they fight like the devil." chorus.--then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve, for richmond is a hard road to travel; then pull off your coat and roll up your sleeve, for richmond is a hard road to travel, i believe! the southron's watchword. in imitation of an english song of the crimean war. by m. f. bigney, . music from s. glover. what shall the southron's watchword be, fighting for us on land and sea? bearing our flag o'er the billow's foam, shedding his blood for his southern home? to bleed and conquer he's bravely gone; freedom and glory still urge him on. then shall the southron's watchword be, "the grave of the hero or victory!" what shall the southron's watchword be, bearing the banner that proves him free? bravely he dashes amid the strife, for home and country, for child and wife; his aims are bright and his hopes are high; his brave resolve is to do or die; then shall the southron's watchword be, "the grave of the hero or victory!" what shall the southron's watchword be, fighting the battles of liberty? holy the light on his manly brow, the victor's wreath or the cypress bough! such are the thoughts which the brave inspire, filling their souls with the soldier's fire; then shall the southron's watchword be, "the grave of the hero or victory!" there's life in the old land yet. words by james b. randall. music by edward o. eaton. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] by blue patapsco's billowy dash, the tyrant's war-shout comes, along with the cymbal's fitful clash, and the roll of his sullen drums. we hear it! we heed it, with vengeful thrills, and we shall not forgive or forget-- there's faith in the streams, there's hope in the hills, "there's life in the old land yet!" minions! we sleep, but we are not dead; we are crushed, we are scourged, we are scarred-- we crouch--'tis to welcome the triumph-tread of the peerless beauregard. then woe to your vile, polluting horde, when the southern braves are met; there's faith in the victor's stainless sword,-- "there's life in the old land yet!" bigots! ye quell not the valiant mind with the clank of an iron chain; the spirit of freedom sings in the wind, o'er merryman, thomas, and kane; and we--though we smite not--are not thralls, we are piling a gory debt; while down by mchenry's dungeon walls, "there's life in the old land yet!" our women have hung their harps away, and they scowl on your brutal bands, while the nimble poignard dares the day, in their dear, defiant hands; they will strip their tresses to string our bows, ere the northern sun is set-- there's faith in their unrelenting woes, "there's life in the old land yet!" there's life, though it throbbeth in silent veins, 'tis vocal without noise; it gushed o'er manassas' solemn plains, from the blood of the maryland boys. that blood shall cry aloud and rise with an everlasting threat-- by the death of the brave, by the god in the skies, "there's life in the old land yet!" _new orleans delta_, sept., . you are going to the wars, willie boy! words and music by john h. hewitt. you are going to the wars, willie boy, willie boy, you are going to the wars far away, to protect our rights and laws, willie boy, willie boy, and the banner in the sun's golden ray; with your uniform all new, and your shining buttons, too, you'll win the hearts of pretty girls, but none like me so true. oh, won't you think of me, willie boy, willie boy; oh, won't you think of me when far away? i'll often think of ye, willie boy, willie boy, and ever for your life and glory pray. you'll be fighting for the right, willie boy, willie boy, you'll be fighting for the right, and your home; and you'll strike the blow with might, willie boy, willie boy, 'mid the thundering of cannon and of drum; with an arm as true as steel, you'll make the foeman feel, the vengeance of a southerner, too proud to cringe or kneel; oh, should you fall in strife, willie boy, willie boy, oh, should you fall in strife on the plain, i'll pine away my life, willie boy, willie boy, and never, never smile again. my maryland. written at pointe coupee, la., april , . first published in the _new orleans delta_. by james r. randall. [the music of this song can be obtained of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] the despot's heel is on thy shore, maryland! his torch is at thy temple door, maryland! avenge the patriotic gore that flecked the streets of baltimore, and be the battle queen of yore, maryland! my maryland! hark to an exiled son's appeal, maryland! my mother-state, to thee i kneel, maryland! for life or death, for woe and weal, thy peerless chivalry reveal, and gird thy beauteous limbs with steel, maryland! my maryland! thou wilt not cower in the dust, maryland! thy beaming sword shall never rust, maryland! remember carroll's sacred trust, remember howard's warlike thrust, and all thy slumberers with the just, maryland! my maryland! come! 'tis the red dawn of the day, maryland! come! with thy panoplied array, maryland! with ringgold's spirit for the fray, with watson's blood at monterey, with fearless lowe, and dashing may, maryland! my maryland! come! for thy shield is bright and strong, maryland! come! for thy dalliance does thee wrong, maryland! come! to thine own heroic throng, that stalks with liberty along, and ring thy dauntless slogan-song, maryland! my maryland! dear mother! burst the tyrant's chain, maryland! virginia should not call in vain, maryland! _she_ meets her sisters on the plain-- "sic semper," 'tis the proud refrain that baffles minions back amain, maryland! arise, in majesty again, maryland! my maryland! i see the blush upon thy cheek, maryland! for thou wast ever bravely meek, maryland! but lo! there surges forth a shriek from hill to hill, from creek to creek-- potomac calls to chesapeake, maryland! my maryland! thou wilt not yield the vandal toll, maryland! thou wilt not crook to his control, maryland! better the fire upon thee roll, better the shot, the blade, the bowl, than crucifixion of the soul, maryland! my maryland! i hear the distant thunder hum, maryland! the old line bugle, fife, and drum, maryland! she is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb-- huzzah! she spurns the northern scum! she breathes--she burns! she'll come! she'll come! maryland! my maryland! rebel toasts; or, drink it down! oh, here's to south carolina! drink it down, here's to south carolina, drink it down, here's to south carolina, the first to open up the fray. chorus.--drink it down, drink it down, drink it down, down, down. oh, here's to mississippi! drink it down, here's to mississippi, drink it down, here's to mississippi, for she gave old abe the slip. oh, here's to alabama! drink it down, here's to alabama--we'll fight for her banner. oh, here's to florida state, drink it down, here's to florida--to southern rights she'll ne'er say nay. oh, here's to georgia state--drink it down, here's to georgia state--altho' she _is_ rather late. oh, here's to louisiana! drink it down, here's to louisiana--how glorious is her banner. oh, here's to gallant texas! drink it down, here's to gallant texas--the yankees say "she vexes us." oh, here's to brave virginia! drink it down, here's to brave virginia--she'll hold up the confederacy. oh, here's to arkansas! drink it down, here's to arkansas--for she'll break old abram's jaw. oh, here's to north carolina! drink it down, here's to north carolina--with a whoop and a hurrah. oh, here's to tennessee! drink it down, here's to tennessee--for she's bound to be free. oh, here's to brave missouri! drink it down, here's to brave missouri--whose sons will ne'er say die! oh, here's to old kentuck! drink it down, here's to old kentuck--she yet may have the pluck. oh, here's to maryland! drink it down, here's to maryland--bleeding beneath a tyrant's hand. oh, here's to general lee! drink it down, here's to general lee--for he'll set the rebels free! oh, here's to magruder! drink it down-- here's to our magruder--the yankees' great deluder. the gallant girl that smote the dastard tory, oh! dedicated to miss slidell. words by klubs. music by ducie diamonds. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] ho, gallants, brim the beaker bowl, and click the festal glasses, oh! the grape shall shed its sapphire soul, to eulogize the lasses, oh! and when ye pledge the lip and curl of loveliness and glory, oh! here's a bumper to the gallant girl that smote the dastard tory, oh! chorus.--a bumper, a thumper, to loveliness and glory, oh! a bumper to the gallant girl that smote the dastard tory, oh! our boys are fighting east and west, our women do not linger, oh! they take their diamonds from the breast, their rubies from the finger, oh! they send their darlings to the war of honor and of glory, oh! they've all the spirit of a man, to smite a dastard tory, oh! chorus. [illustration: jack morgan.] three cheers for our jack morgan. by eugene raymond. the snow is in the cloud, and night is gathering o'er us. the winds are piping loud and fan the blaze before us; then join the jovial band, and tune the vocal organ; and with a will we'll all join in--three cheers for our jack morgan! chorus.--gather round the camp-fire, our duty has been done, let's gather round the camp-fire, and have a little fun. let's gather round the camp-fire, our duty has been done, 'twas done upon the battle-field, three cheers for our jack morgan! jack morgan is his name--the fearless and the lucky; no dastard foe can tame the son of old kentucky. his heart is with his state, he fights for southern freedom, his men their general's word await--they'll go where he will lead 'em. chorus. he swore to free his home--to burst her chains asunder, with sound of trump and drum, and loud confederate thunder; and in the darksome night, by light of homesteads burning, he'll put the skulking foe to flight, their hearts to wailings turning. chorus. the dungeon dark and cold could not his body prison, nor tame a spirit bold that o'er reverse had risen. then sing the song of joy--our toast be lovely woman; and morgan, he's the gallant boy to plague the hated foeman! [illustration: mississippi button.] pray, maiden, pray! a. w. kercheval. a. j. turner. to the patriotic women of the south. maiden, pray for thy lover now, thro' all this starry night, heaven prove auspicious to thy vow, for with to-morrow's dawning light, we meet the foe in deadly fight! pray, maiden, pray! maiden, pray that the banner high advanced, our cross may wave; and foeman's shot and steel defy! in triumph floating o'er the brave, who strike for freedom or the grave; pray, maiden, pray! maiden, pray for thy southern land of streams and sunlit skies; see thou her living greatness stand! while in her hero-dust there lies, whatever glory verifies! pray, maiden, pray! maiden, pray that your trumpet blast and rocket's signal light, but summon squadrons, thick and fast! to win in our glorious fight for home, for freedom, and the right; pray, maiden, pray! . the soldier's suit of gray. by miss carrie bell sinclair. i've seen some handsome uniforms deck'd off with buttons bright, and some that are so very gay they almost blind the sight; but of these handsome uniforms i will not sing to-day, my song is to each soldier lad who wears a suit of gray! chorus.--hurrah, hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! for southern boys we say, and god bless every soldier lad who wears a suit of gray! brass buttons and gold lace i know are beautiful to view, and then, to tell the honest truth, i own i like them, too; yet should a thousand officers come crowding round to-day, i'd scorn them for a lad who wears a simple suit of gray. chorus. god bless our southern soldiers! for ev'ry one is dear, and god defend each gallant form, no matter what they wear; for each has acted well his part, yet still, in truth, i say, the bravest of the brave are those who wear a suit of gray. chorus. tho' torn and faded be each coat, their buttons tarnish'd too, i know beneath each soldier's dress a southern heart beats true; we honor ev'ry gallant son who fights for us to-day, and heav'n protect the noble boys who wear the suit of gray. chorus. they bravely strike for freedom, and on the battle-field, they're the first to strike a blow, they are the last to yield; at richmond and manassas who was it won the day? it was our noble southern boys, all clad in suits of gray. chorus. god bless our southern soldiers! for each we breathe a prayer, and over ev'ry fallen son we shed a mourner's tear! oh, sacred be the grave of those who died so far away, and honor'd be each one who sleeps clad in a suit of gray. (omit chorus.) 'round ev'ry patriot soldier's brow the laurel wreath entwines, and 'round the battle-flag they bear a ray of glory shines, and when the foe is conquer'd, with pride we then will say, "all honor to the noble boys who wore the suit of gray." chorus. (a chorus, after the battle of franklin)-- you may talk about your beauregard, and sing of general lee, but general hood, of texas, played hell in tennessee. song of the texas rangers. by mrs. j. d. young. _air--"the yellow rose of texas."_ the morning star is paling, the camp-fires flicker low, our steeds are madly neighing, for the bugle bids us go: so put the foot in stirrup, and shake the bridle free, for to-day the texas rangers must cross the tennessee. with wharton for our leader, we'll chase the dastard foe, 'till our horses bathe their fetlocks in the deep blue ohio. our men come from the prairies rolling broad, proud and free, from the high and craggy mountains to the murmuring mexic' sea; and their hearts are open as their plains; their tho'ts as proudly brave as the bold cliffs of the san bernard, or the gulf's resistless wave. then, quick! into the saddle, and shake the bridle free, to-day with gallant wharton we cross the tennessee. 'tis joy to be a ranger! to fight for dear southland! 'tis joy to follow wharton, with his gallant, trusty band! 'tis joy to see our harrison plunge, like a meteor bright, into the thickest of the fray, and deal his deadly might, oh! who'd not be a ranger, and follow wharton's cry! and battle for their country, and, if needs be, die? by the colorado's waters, on the gulf's deep murmuring shore, on our soft, green, peaceful prairies, our home we may see no more, but in those homes our gentle wives, and mothers with silvery hairs, are loving us with tender hearts, and shielding us with prayers. so trusting in our country's god, we draw our stout good brand, for those we love at home, our altars and our land. up! up! with the crimson battle flag, let the blue pennon fly; our steeds are stamping proudly, they hear the battle cry! the thundering bomb, the bugle's call, proclaim the foe is near: we strike for god and native land, and all we hold most dear. then spring into the saddle, and shake the bridle free, for wharton leads, thro' fire and blood, for home and victory. the officer's funeral. hark! 'tis the shrill trumpet calling, it pierceth the soft summer air! tears from each comrade are falling, for the widow and orphan are there: our bayonets earthward are turning, and the drum's muffled breath rolls around, but he hears not the voice of their mourning, nor awakes to the bugle's shrill sound. sleep, soldier! tho' many regret thee, who stand by thy cold bier to-day, soon, soon shall the kindest forget thee, and thy name from the earth pass away; the man thou did'st love as a brother, a friend in thy place will have gained; thy dog will keep watch for another, and thy steed by a stranger be reined. but tho' many now weep for thee sadly, soon joyous as ever shall be; tho' thy bright orphan boy may laugh gladly as he sits on some kind comrade's knee, there is one who will still do her duty of tears for the true and the brave, as when first in the bloom of her beauty, she weeps o'er her brave soldier's grave! the soldier's death. by a. b. cunningham. the night-cloud had lowered o'er shiloh's red plain, and the blast howled sadly o'er wounded and slain; the lightning flashed vividly, fiercely and proud, and glared thro' the mist of the smoke and the cloud; the thunder pealed loudly from heaven's black sky, where litely the cannon had pealed the war-cry; the last gun had been fired, and its moaning sound had died 'way in the distance, and echoed around. where the fight had raged fiercest, near a deep ravine, at the foot of a crag (a wild, thrilling scene), a soldier lay there all ghastly and gory, who'd fall'n in the strife for freedom and glory! his life-blood was pouring from out a deep gash he'd received 'mid the battle's loud roar and fierce crash; "o mother! o mother! i never thought this, when but a mere child i received thy sweet kiss-- "that i'd die on a field all gory and red with the blood of the wounded, the dying and dead, with no friend or relation to cheer my dark way, but the forms of dear comrades all lifeless as clay, none to watch o'er me but the ghosts of the dead, none to smooth down the death-pillow 'neath my poor head; and sadly i think of my home in the south, where i roam'd a mere boy in the pride of my youth. "when i scaled the steep crag o'er the river's wild roar, or chased the fleet stag 'long the bright, sunny shore-- when i bounded in pride o'er valley and hill-- o memories, how sweet! ye haunt me now still. but away with the thoughts of my joyous boyhood, i'll face the grim monster death with calm fortitude: then, mother, farewell! farewell, dearest mother; farewell to my father, sisters and brother! "and when i am gone never utter a sigh, but remember your charlie reigns proudly on high!" then death flapp'd wildly his wings on the moor, as his soul took its flight to a heavenly shore-- the lightning flash'd fiercely, the howling winds surge, the thunder pealed loudly the hero's wild dirge! i remember the hour when sadly we parted. _companion song to "when this cruel war is over."_ i remember the hour when sadly we parted, the tears on your pale cheek glist'ning like dew, when clasped in your arms almost broken-hearted, i swore by the bright sky i'd ever be true, true to the love that nothing could sever, and true to the flag of my country forever. chorus.--then weep not, love, oh! weep not, think not our hopes are vain, for when this fatal war is over, we will surely meet again. oh, let not, my own love, the summer winds winging their sweet-laden zephyrs o'er land and o'er sea, bring aught to your heart with the autumn birds singing, but hopes for the future and bright dreams of me; for while in your pure heart my mem'ry you're keeping, i ne'er can be lonely while waking or sleeping. chorus. but if, while the loud shouts of vict'ry are ringing, o'er the land that foul traitors have caught to betray, you hear o'er the voices so joyfully singing, that he who so loved you has fallen in the fray, oh think that he's gone where there's dark treason never, where tears and sad partings are banished forever. chorus. our flag; or, the origin of the stars and bars.[ ] words and music by harry mccarthy. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] young stranger, what land claims thy birth? for thy flag is but new to the sea, and where is the nation on earth, that the right of this flag gives to thee; thy banner reminds us of one by the champions of freedom unfurled, and the proudest of nations have owned, 'twas a glory and pride to the world; that flag was the "stripes and stars," and the colors of thine are the same, but thou hast the "stars and the bars," oh, stranger, pray tell us thy name. that flag, with its garland of fame, proudly waved o'er my father and me, and my grandsires died to proclaim it the flag of the brave and the free; but alas! for the flag of my youth; i have sighed and dropped my last tear, for the north has forgotten her truth, and would tread on the rights we hold dear; they envied the south her bright stars, her glory, her honor, her fame, so we unfurled the "stars and the bars" and the confederate flag is its name. and her bright colors shone forth, all glorious in fair freedom's light, we swore to remember their birth, and in her honor forever to fight; so woe to the foeman who'll dare, our southern soil to invade, for bless'd by the smiles of the fair, and in right's powerful armor arrayed; we'll strike for our southern stars, our honor, our glory, our fame, we'll strike for the "stars and the bars," for the confederate flag is its name. the navasota volunteers. by wm. neely, of durant's cavalry. _air--"susanna, don't you cry."_ we're the navasota volunteers, our county is named grimes; oh, come along, my conscript boys, we can't leave you behind; jeff davis is our president, and stephens is the vice-- at the head of our armies are lee, beauregard and price. we have other officers and generals in command, to lead our gallant forces on, and give the right command; good old magruder's our choice, and will help the yankees roast; so come and go along with us, and help defend the coast. o come along, my jolly boys, and help us all to fight-- to go against old uncle abe i know that we are right; so come along, my countrymen, and with us take your stand; with help of god, we'll whip old abe, and all his yankee band. come volunteer, my brave, brave boys, and help to fight it out; we can whip the abolitionists, without a single doubt; we are volunteers of texas--we are the very chaps, to whip the abolitionists, and stop their "nutmeg" traps. come volunteer, my texas boys, altho' you are forty-six-- we'll whip old abe and buell, with all their yankee tricks; their armies are invading us, and this we cannot stand, we must whip them back to yankeedom, o come and take a hand. come, all of you brave southerners, and join our common cause, to go against old lincoln and all his yankee boys; if we find them on the hills, or find them in their ditches, if you go along with us we'll whip them out their "britches." now, there is our good doctor, with his powder and his pills, who is willing to go with us and cure us of our ills; there are some of our countrymen, whose names i will not tell, who say they cannot volunteer, "for they are not very well!" there is the officeseeker! altho' not very noted, he would go along with us if he could only be promoted! there is the little lawyer! who is of no great note, he will not go along with us unless we will promote! now, there is the merchant! with his all in his hand, who'll sell unto his customers at the highest price he can; if you say to the merchant, when you go in to trade, "i cannot stand your price," he'll holler out "blockade!" and then there's the yearling thief, that ought to go to battle; the country would be better off rid of all such cattle; and there's the rich planters, with their negroes and their lands, they will not go along with us to fight old lincoln's bands. they remind me of a tale, perhaps you've heard yourself: while a woman fought a bear her husband hid himself; the battle was fought, and the good old lady won it-- old man then came crawling out--"old woman, hain't we done it!" there are speculating parsons, who wish their country well-- and they will warn poor sinners of going down to hell; they cannot go along with us, they do not wish to fight, they'll stay at home to prey on us, that all may come out right. now unto all such fellows be everlasting shame; and all our honest countrymen will surely them disdain; come, all ye texas ladies, now listen to my song, and do not marry any man that will not go along. to defend the coast of texas we all feel now inclined; to leave our wives and little ones in the care of those behind; we hope that they'll prove faithful, and to their wants attend, and see that they're provided for while we the land defend. farewell! my friends and neighbors, we bid you all adieu. farewell to wife and children! we now must part with you! o god! in mercy bless us! sustain us by thy grace! and grant we all may meet again our lov'd ones to embrace! [illustration: "for i know there is no other, e'er can be so dear to me."] the soldier's dream. composed by fr. sulzner. permission of henri wehrmann, new orleans, la. i am dreaming of thee, dearest, i am dreaming still of thee, for thy spirit haunts me ever, like some fairy melody; when in loneliness i wander, or in haunts of mirth and glee, still my heart to thine is turning, i am dreaming still of thee. when the stars are softly smiling, thro' the lone and silent night, then i think of thee and heaven, with a holy, calm delight; for thy spirit is so radiant in its love and purity, that whene'er i dream of angels, i am dreaming still of thee. there are hours when dreary shadows, cast their gloom upon my heart, when i think how well i love thee, when i feel that we must part; for i know there is no other, e'er can be so dear to me, and whene'er of love i'm dreaming, i am dreaming still of thee. i am dreaming of thee, dearest, still i dream of thee alone; we shall meet again in heaven, there our spirits shall be one; for the earth when thou wert near me, was a paradise to me, and whene'er i dream of heaven, i am dreaming still of thee. [illustration: "when the stars are softly smiling * * * * then i think of thee and heaven."] by the banks of red river. words by e. e. kidd. music by la hache. oh, gone is the soul from his wondrous dark eye, and gone is her life's dearest glory. the tales of fond lovers unheeded pass by, her heart hears a single sad story, how her gallant young hero fell asleep, and will never awake from his dream by the banks of red river. chorus.--how her gallant young hero fell asleep, and will never awake from his dream by the banks of red river. how oft to the window she rushes to wait, as though she expected his coming; she lists, ah! she hears him swing open the gate, and the song he was wont to be humming; but she turns, ah! she feels he's asleep and will never awake from his dream by the banks of red river. chorus. ah, many a sun will awaken the morn, all dressed in its radiant glory, ere the heart of the maiden shall ever be torn from the woe of his sorrowful story, for it bent--it has broke. oh! god it will never arise from that grave by the banks of red river. chorus. the officers of dixie. by a growler. let me whisper in your ear, sir, something that the south should hear, sir, of the war, of the war, of the war in dixie; a growing curse--a "burning shame," sir, in the chorus i will name, sir, of the war, of the war, of the war in dixie. chorus.--the officers of dixie alone, alone! the honors share, the honors wear throughout the land of dixie! 'tis so, 'tis so, throughout the land of dixie. swelling 'round with gold lace plenty, see the gay "brass button" gentry; solomon in all his splendors was scarce arrayed like these "defenders." chorus. in cities, sir, it is alarming to see them 'round the hotel swarming; and at each little "one-horse town," sir, see the "birds" how they "fly 'round," sir. chorus. on the steamboat, in the cars, sir, deep respect is shown the "bars," sir. and if a "star" or two is spotted, see how "the elephant" is courted. chorus. should a grand soiree be given, the "braided lions" take the even. no, no! the privates are not slighted! they can't expect to be invited! chorus. the ladies! bless the darling creatures! quite distort their pretty features, and say (i know you've seen it done, sir), "they'll have an officer or none," sir. chorus. and if when death-shots round us rattle, an officer is kill'd in battle-- how the martyr is lamented! (this is right--we've not dissented). chorus. but only speak of it to show, sir, privates are not honor'd so, sir. no muffled drum, no wreath of glory, if one dies, proclaims the story. chorus. in dixie's land, in every way, sir, "fuss and feathers" "win the day," sir, for with all sexes, sizes, ages, how the "gold lace fever" rages! chorus. list the moral of my song, sir; in dixie there is something wrong, sir. as all that glitters is not gold, sir, read and ponder what i've told, sir. chorus. the sentinel's dream of home. by col. a. m. hobby. 'tis dead of night, nor voice, nor sound, breaks on the stillness of the air, the waning moon goes coldly down on frozen fields and forests bare: the solemn stars are glittering high, while here my lonely watch i keep, to guard the brave with anxious eye, who sweetly dream and sweetly sleep. perchance of home these sleepers dream, of sainted ones no longer here, whose mystic forms low bend unseen, and breathe soft whispers in their ear: sleep on, sleep on, my comrades brave, quaff deep to-night of pleasure's cup, ere morning's crimson banners wave, and reveille shall rouse thee up. the sporting winds and waves to-night seem tired of their boisterous play, and armed ships, with signal lights and bristling guns before me lay: but not of ships nor battle-fields, with clash of arms and roll of drums-- to softer scenes my spirit yields--to-night a sweeter vision comes. it is thine own beloved one! whose kiss i feel, whose smile i see; o god! protect that wife at home, begirt with growing infancy: to-night, to-night i'm with you there, around my knees fond children gather! and climb, the envied kiss to share, amidst the sounds of "husband! father!" such thoughts my eyes with moisture fill, my bosom heaves, my pulses start; close down i'll press my gun to still the wild emotions of my heart: hush! pleading one--i cannot stay! the spoiler comes with fiendish wrath-- black ruin marks his bloody way, and blazing homes have lit his path. "go, husband, go! god nerve thy blows--their footsteps foul blot from our shore-- strike! 'till our land is free from foes whose hands are stained with southern gore; strike! husband, strike--i'd rather weep, the widow of a patriot brave, than lay my heart (i'd scorn to sleep) beside a subjugated slave." thy woman's soul is true and grand! the battle-field my home shall be, until our country'll proudly stand acknowledged as a nation free; 'till then, oh, welcome fields of strife, the victor's shout, the vanquished cry, where ebbs the crimson stream of life, where quick and dead together lie. 'mid bursting shell and squadron's dash, where broken ranks disorder'd fly, where angry cannon's flash on flash paints hell upon the lurid sky, where many a brave shall sink to rest, and fondly cherish'd hopes will set, and blood that warms the manly heart, will dim the glittering bayonet. when these are past, and victory's sun in undimm'd splendor lights the skies, and peace, by dauntless valor won, and proudly free our banner flies, then to my western prairie home, with eager haste, each nerve shall strain, nor from its hallow'd precincts roam, unless my country call again. there unalloy'd shall be our bliss; we'll watch the sun give morning birth, and, sinking, leave his parting kiss upon the dewy lips of earth. * * * * * the moon has waxed and waned away; the morning star rides pale and high-- fond dreams of home no longer stay, but fade like stars on mornings sky. galveston, texas, feb. , . camp douglas by the lake. a prison song. _air--"cottage by the sea."_ childhood's days have long since faded, youth's bright dreams like lights gone out, distant homes and hearths are shaded, with the future's dread and doubt. chorus.--here, old michigan before us, moaning waves that ever break, chanting still the one sad chorus, at camp douglas by the lake. (repeat.) exiles from our homes, we sorrow o'er the present's darkening gloom; will we know that with the morrow, we'll wake to feel the same hard doom. chorus. oh, for one short hour of gladness, one hour of hope, this pain to break, and chase away the heavy sadness, at camp douglas by the lake. chorus. i would some southern bird was singing, warbling richest, softest lays, back to eager memory bringing, sweetest thoughts of happy days. chorus. i dread the night's uneasy slumber; hate the day that bids me wake, another of that dreary number, at camp douglas by the lake. chorus. never sabbath bells are tolling, never words of cheer and love; wintry waves are round us rolling, clouds are hiding heaven above. chorus. dixie land! still turn toward you, hearts that now in bondage ache, hearts that once were strong to guard you, wasting here beside the lake. refrain.--john morgan crossed the river, and i went across with him. i was captured in ohio, because i could not swim. missouri. words and music by harry mccarthy. sung by harry mccarthy throughout the confederate states in his personation concerts. [the music of this song can be obtained of oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] missouri! missouri! bright land of the west, where the wayworn emigrant always found rest, who gave to the farmer reward for the toil expended in breaking and turning the soil; awake to the notes of the bugle and drum! awake from your peace, for the tyrant hath come; and swear by your honor that your chains shall be riven, and add your bright star to our flag of eleven. they'd force you to join in their unholy fight, with fire and with sword, with power and with might, 'gainst fathers and brothers, and kindred near, 'gainst women and children, all you hold dear; they've o'errun your soil, insulted your press; murdered your citizens, shown no redress; so swear by your honor that your chains shall be riven, and add your bright star to our flag of eleven. missouri! missouri! where is thy proud fame? free land of the west, thy once cherished name trod in the dust by a tyrant's command, proclaiming there's martial law in the land, men of missouri! strike without fear! mcculloch, jackson, and brave men are near; so swear by your honor that your chains shall be riven, and add your bright star to our flag of eleven. oh, no! he'll not need them again![ ] oh, no! no! he'll not need them again-- no more will he wake to behold, the splendor and fame of his men-- the tale of his victories told! no more will he wake from that sleep, which he sleeps in his glory and fame, while his comrades are left here to weep over cleburne! his grave and his name. oh, no; he'll not meet them again, no more will his banner be spread o'er the field of his gallantry's fame; the soldier's proud spirit is fled! the soldier who rose 'mid applause, from the humblemost place in the van-- i sing not in praise of the cause, but rather in praise of the man. oh, no; he'll not need them again, he has fought his last battle without them, for barefoot he, too, must go in, while barefoot stood comrades about him; and barefoot they proudly marched on, with blood flowing fast from their feet; they thought of the past victories won, and the foes that they now were to meet. oh, no; he'll not need them again, he is leading his men to the charge, unheeding the shells or the slain, or the showers of the bullets at large. on the right, on the left, on the flanks, he dashingly pushes his way, while with cheers, double quick and in ranks, his soldiers all followed that day. oh, no; he'll not need them again, he falls from his horse to the ground! o anguish! o sorrow! o pain! in the brave hearts that gathered around; he breathes not of grief, nor a sigh on the breast where he pillowed his head, ere he fix'd his last gaze upon high-- "i'm killed, boys, but fight it out!" said. oh, no; he'll not need them again, but treasure them up for his sake; and oh, should you sing a refrain, of the memories they still must awake, sing it soft as the summer-eve breeze, let it sound as refreshing and clear; tho' grief-born there's that which can please, in thoughts that are gemmed with a tear. in memoriam. lieut. sidney a. sherman,[ ] who fell at the battle of galveston, january , . by miss mollie e. moore. pillow his head on his flashing sword, who fell ere the fight was won, the turf looks red where his life was poured-- he fell beside his gun! he died with the gleam in his youthful eye, the fire in his gallant breast, the light was shadowed but could not die, that glisten'd upon his breast! for liberty claimed his parting breath, and fame his last trumpet cry: yes, freedom hath torn his young name from death-- the brave can never die! his young breast met, like an ocean rock, the clash of the battle-storm; his proud soul smiled at the tempest shock, that thundered around his form. but his life grew faint when the storm raged high, and ebbed with the dawning sun, and there on the field of victory he fell beside his gun! from the gallant throng there is missed a crest, a sword from the ranks of steel, a hand from the gun whose mad unrest, hath made our foemen reel. a blithe young voice from the mellow strain, that floated at evenfall; a voice from the camp-song's high refrain, a step in his father's hall: in his father's hall--where his mother's eye, late hung with a gleam of joy, on the proud young form, as the hopes beat high in the breast of her soldier boy. and the dashing sound of the distant sea, with the wail in its troubled breast, to the hearts 'round that clouded hearth will be, but an echo of their unrest! but pillow his head on his flashing sword, whose fame on the field was won-- the strife raged high where his blood was poured-- and--he fell beside his gun! oh, circle the banner around his form, that he loved with a soldier's pride, for it shone like a star thro' the battle storm, o'er the field where our hero died! he went from the red field down to the grave, he fell where his fame was won, and his own fair state hath a name for the brave, and a song for her martyred son! yes, liberty shrined his parting breath, and texas his fainting cry-- yes, fame hath torn his young name from death, the brave can never die! then pillow his head on his flashing sword, who fell where the field was won; the turf is red where his life was poured-- he fell beside his gun! tyler, texas, . yankee vandals. _air--"gay and happy."_ the northern abolition vandals, who have come to free the slave, will meet their doom in "old virginny," where they all will get a grave. chorus--so let the yankees say what they will, we'll love and fight for dixie still, love and fight for, love and fight for, we'll love and fight for dixie still. when the hessian horde is driven, o'er potomac's classic flood, the pulse of a new-born freedom, then will stir old maryland's blood. chorus. then we'll crown our warrior chieftains who have led us in the fight, and have brought the south in triumph, through dread danger's troubled night. chorus. and the brave who nobly perished, struggling in the bloody fray; we'll wear a wreath of fadeless laurel for their glorious memory. chorus. o'er their graves the southern maidens, from sea-shore to mountain grot, we'll plant the smiling rose of beauty and the sweet forget-me-not. chorus. riding a raid. _air--"bonny dundee."_ 'tis old stonewall, the rebel, that leans on his sword, and, while we are mounting, prays low to the lord; now each cavalier who loves honor and right, let him follow the feather of stuart to-night. chorus--come, tighten your girths 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_ who goes riding a raid. now gallop, now gallop, to swim or to ford; old stonewall, still watching, prays low to the lord. good-by, dear old rebel; the river's not wide, and maryland's lights in the windows do shine. chorus. then gallop, then gallop, by ravine and rocks, who would bar up the way takes his toll in hard knocks; for with these points of steel up the lines of old penn, we have made some fine strokes and will make 'em again. chorus. [illustration: "then gallop, by ravine and rocks."] the toast of morgan's men. by capt. thorpe, kentucky. unclaimed by the land that bore us, lost in the land we find the brave have gone before us, cowards are left behind! then stand to your glasses, steady, here's a health to those we prize, here's a toast to the dead already, and here's to the next who dies. true heart southrons. _air--"blue bonnets over the border."_ for trumpet and drum, leave the soft voice of maiden; for the tramp of armed men, leave the maze of the dance; one kiss on the lips, with words of love laden-- one look in dimm'd eyes--then the rifle and lance. chorus.--march, march, true heart southrons, fall into ranks and march in good order,-- escambia shall many a day tell of the fierce affray, when we drove the base northmen far over our border do ye weep, ye fair flowers, our hearth-stones that brighten? for every tear shed shall fall ten foemen's lives; far in the cold north their hosts we will frighten, as we strike for our "homes, our sweethearts, and wives." chorus. the soldier's amen. as a couple of good soldiers were walking one day, said one to the other: "let's kneel down and pray! i'll pray for the war, and good of all men: and whatever i pray for, do you say 'amen!'" "we'll pray for the generals and all of their crew, likewise for the captains and lieutenants too; may good luck and good fortune them always attend! and return safely home;" said the soldier, "amen!" "we'll pray for the privates, the noblest of all; they do all the work and get no glory at all; may good luck and good fortune them always attend, and return crowned with laurels!" said the soldier, "amen!" "we'll pray for the pretty boys who want themselves wives, and have not the courage to strike for themselves; may bad luck and bad fortune them always attend! and go down to old harry!" said the soldier, "amen!" "we'll pray for the pretty girls, who make us good wives, and always look at a soldier with tears in their eyes; may good luck and good fortune them always attend! and brave gallants for sweethearts!" said the soldier, "amen!" "we'll pray for the conscript, with frown on his brow, to fight for his country he won't take the vow; may bad luck and bad fortune him always attend; and die with dishonor!" said the soldier, "amen!" here's your mule. a farmer came to camp, one day, with milk and eggs to sell, upon a mule who oft would stray to where no one could tell, the farmer, tired of his tramp, for hours was made a fool by ev'ryone he met in camp, with, "mister, here's your mule." chorus.--come on, come on, come on, old man, and don't be made a fool, i'll tell the truth as best i can, john morgan's got your mule. his eggs and chickens all were gone before the break of day, the mule was heard of all along--that's what the soldiers say; and still he hunted all day long--alas! the witless fool-- while ev'ry man would sing the song, "mister, here's your mule." chorus. the soldiers now, in laughing mood, on mischief were intent, they toted muly on their backs, around from tent to tent; through this hole and that they pushed his head, and made a rule to shout with humorous voices all, "mister, here's your mule." chorus. alas! one day the mule was missed, ah! who could tell his fate? the farmer, like a man bereft, searched early and searched late; and as he passed from camp to camp, with stricken face, the fool cried out to ev'ryone he met, "oh, mister, where's my mule?" chorus. sabine pass. dedicated to the davis guards--(the living and the dead). by mrs. m. j. young. sabine pass! in letters of gold, seem written upon the sky to-day, sabine pass! with rhythmic feet, comes passionately stepping down my lay. sabine pass! and the white sail ships, with their cruel cannons' grinning teeth, tearing in shreds the sullen smoke, that seem'd weaving for us a winding sheet. sabine pass! with its irish hearts, as true as the blessings the shamrock brings, hearts as full of royal blood as that which nerves the arms of kings. few, ah! few were the davis band, "we cannot conquer, but we can die!" said the dauntless dowling, as up he sprang, and nailed the starry cross on high. twenty-seven ships in pomp and pride, came sailing through the pass that day; go ask of any texan child, how many ships survived the fray. the god of battle, who loves the brave, who gave to gideon of old the fight, sent victory down that "guard" to save, and crowned them with immortal light. dark storms have since o'erswept our land, and tyrants do our souls harass, but glory shines on dowling's band, the forty-two heroes of the pass. come, fill your glass with texas wine, wine that is generous, red and free, and drink with me to the knightliest man, who conquered the foe on land and sea. but tears, rough, manly tears, for the dead, like dews of night bedim the glass, with throbbing hearts and lifted hands, we name him--"dowling! of the pass." houston, texas. short rations; or, the corn-fed army. fair ladies and maids of all ages, little girls and cadets howe'er youthful, home-guards, quartermasters and sages, who write for the newspapers so truthful! clerks, surgeons, and supes--legislators, staff officers, (fops of the nation,) and even you, dear speculators, come list to my song of starvation! chorus.--for we soldiers have seen something rougher than a storm, a retreat, or a fight, and the body may toil on, and suffer with a smile, so the heart is all right! our bugles had roused up the camp, the heavens looked dismal and dirty, and the earth looked unpleasant and damp, as a beau on the wrong side of thirty; we were taking these troubles with quiet, when we heard from the mouths of some rash ones, that the army was all put on diet, and the board had diminish'd our rations! chorus. reduce our rations at all? it was difficult, yet it was done-- we had one meal a day--it was small-- are we now, oh, ye gods! to have none? oh, ye gentlemen issuing rations, give at least half her own to the state, put a curb on your maddening passions, and, commissaries--commiserate! chorus. tell me not of the lacedæmonian, of his black broth and savage demeanor, we keep up a fare less plutonian, yet i'd swear our corn coffee is meaner! tell me nothing of ancients and strangers, for, on seeing our southern-bred catos, i have laugh'd at old marion's rangers, who feasted on roasted potatoes! chorus. erewhile we had chicken and roasters, for the fowls and pigs were ferocious, we would send them to shoot pater nosters, and the deed was not stamped as atrocious; but since we have been shot for the same, we parch corn--it is healthier, but tougher-- the chickens and pigs have got tame, but the horses and mules have to suffer. chorus. but the "corn-fed" is proof to all evils, has a joke for all hardships and troubles, in honor and glory he revels, other fancies he looks on as bubbles! he is bound to be free, and he knows it, then what cares he for toil and privation! he is brave, and in battle he shows it, and will conquer in spite of starvation! chorus. the soldier's farewell. _air--"rosin the bow."_ hark! the tocsin is sounding, my comrades; bind your knapsacks--away let us go, where the flag of the freeman is waving-- march to vanquish the ruffian foe! chorus.--ho for liberty! freedom or death, boys, that's the watchword, away let us go to the sound of the drum and the bugle, march to vanquish the ruffian foe![ ] farewell to the scenes of my childhood, to my mother, who's praying for me; she would weep if the son of her bosom from the face of a foeman should flee. farewell to the home and the hearthstone, where my sisters are weeping for me; oh; the foot of the spoilers shall never, stain the home of the brave and the free. adieu, thou beloved of my bosom! for thy soldier-love shed not a tear; but beseech the great lord of the battle, to protect him and all he holds dear. adieu, honored father! who taught me, for the rights of a freeman to stand-- to resist, when his rod, the aggressor, shakes in wrath o'er my dear native land. oh, my country, thou home of my loved ones! you, the tyrant would seek to enslave-- sweep you off from the face of creation, wake, freemen, our country to save! hear the threats of that ruthless banditti, who for "booty" and "beauty" would fight; shall they sweep our loved south from creation? no! her sons will arise in their might! "sweep the south from the face of the earth!" boys? we can sweep, too, o land of our birth! for our homes and our altars and dear ones, we the ruffians can sweep from the earth. adieu to the church, where the christian for the soldier and sabbath will pray; but the bible and chaplain go with us, and jehovah, our god, is our stay! when the old british lion oppressed us, he with washington went to the field; unto him we will look in the battle, and will strike 'til the enemy yield! the battle of shiloh hill. by m. b. smith, of co. c., second regiment texas volunteers. _air--"wandering sailor."_ come, all ye valiant soldiers, and a story i will tell, it is of a noted battle you all remember well; it was an awful strife, and will cause your blood to chill, it was the famous battle that was fought on shiloh hill! it was the sixth of april, just at the break of day, the drums and fifes were playing for us to march away; the feeling of that hour i do remember still, for the wounded and the dying that lay on shiloh hill. about the hour of sunrise the battle it began, and before the day had vanished we fought them hand to hand; the horrors of the field did my heart with anguish fill, for the wounded and the dying that lay on shiloh hill. there were men of every nation laid on those rocky plains, fathers, sons and brothers were numbered with the slain, that has caused so many homes with deep mourning to be filled, all from the bloody battle that was fought on shiloh hill. the wounded men were crying for help from everywhere, while others, who were dying, were offering god their prayer: "protect my wife and children, if it is thy holy will!" such were the prayers i heard that night on shiloh hill. and early the next morning, we were called to arms again, unmindful of the wounded and unmindful of the slain, the struggle was renewed, and ten thousand men were killed; this was the second conflict of the famous shiloh hill. the battle it raged on, though dead and dying men, lay thick all o'er the ground, on the hill and in the glen, and from their deadly wounds their blood ran like a rill; such were the mournful sights that i saw on shiloh hill. before the day was ended the battle ceased to roar, and thousands of brave soldiers had fall'n to rise no more; they left their vacant ranks for some other ones to fill, and now their mouldering bodies all lie on shiloh hill. and now my song is ended about those bloody plains, i hope the sight by mortal man may ne'er be seen again; but i pray to god, the saviour, "if consistent with thy will," to save the souls of all who fell on bloody shiloh hill. stonewall's requiem. permission of the oliver ditson co. music by m. deeves. the muffled drum is beating, there's a sad and solemn tread, our banner's draped in mourning, as it shrouds the "illustrious dead," proud forms are bent with sorrow, and all southern hearts are sore, the hero now is sleeping-- noble stonewall is no more. 'mid the rattling of the muskets, and the cannons' thund'rous roar, he stained the field of glory, with his brave life's precious gore; and though our flag waved proudly, we were victors ere sunset-- the gallant deeds of chancellorsville, will mingle with regret. they've borne him to an honored grave, the laurel crowns his brow, by hallowed james' silent wave he's sweetly sleeping now; virginia to the south is dear, she holds a sacred trust, our fallen braves from far and near, are covered with her dust. she shrines the spot where now is laid, the bravest of them all, the martyr of our country's cause, our idolized stonewall; but though his spirit's wafted to the happy realms above; his name shall live forever linked, with reverence and love. little giffin. by dr. francis o. ticknor. "a ballad of such unique and really transcendent merit, that in our judgment it ought to rank with the rarest gems of modern martial poetry."--p. h. hayne. out of the focal and foremost fire, out of the hospital walls as dire, smitten of grape-shot and gangrene, (eighteenth battle, and he sixteen!) specter such as we seldom see, little giffin of tennessee! "take him and welcome!" the surgeon said: "much your doctor can help the dead!" and so we took him and brought him where, the balm was sweet on the summer air; and we laid him down on a wholesome bed-- utter lazarus, heel to head! weary war with the bated breath, skeleton boy against skeleton death, months of torture, how many such! weary weeks of the stick and crutch! still a glint in the steel-blue eye, spoke of the spirit that wouldn't die. and didn't! nay more! in death's despite, the crippled skeleton learned to write! "dear mother," at first, of course, and then, "dear captain" inquiring about the "men," captain's answer--"of eighty and five, giffin and i are left alive!" "johnston's pressed at the front, they say!" little giffin was up and away. a tear, his first, as he bade good-bye, dimmed the glint of his steel-blue eye; "i'll write, if spared." there was news of a fight, but none of giffin! he did not write! i sometimes fancy that were i a king of the princely knights of the golden ring, with the song of the minstrel in mine ear, and the tender legend that trembles here, i'd give the best on his bended knee, the whitest soul of my chivalry, for little giffin of tennessee! [illustration: general j. e. b. stuart.] stuart. by mrs. henry j. vose. music by a. e. blackmar. [the music of this song can be obtained of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] oh! mother of states and of men, bend low thy queenly head, on his shield is borne to thy arms again, thy youngest, fairest dead; drop tears like rain for that strong heart stilled, for that dauntless spirit fled! sleep well, o stainless knight, 'neath the folds of the starry cross, for the day now breaks o'er the long, long night of our anguish, peril and loss; but alas! for the eyes that smiled on death, and the life that held life dross. they say thine ancestral line, swayed the scepter, and wore the crown; but none girded a nobler sword than thine, nor more stainless life laid down; and we ask no gleam from their grand old past, to brighten thy young renown. on the field thy life was giv'n, where our best blood has been poured; at the feet of our country's god, in heaven, thou hast laid another sword, when jackson's head was so lately bowed, the tried soldier of the lord. oh, swords of the south! like flame, leap forth for this life-blood shed, strike the foe till he flies from the field in shame, sheathe not till the hilt is red! and redeem the land that enshrines in her heart, the graves of her glorious dead! only a soldier. by major lamar fontaine. "only a soldier!" i heard them say, with a heavy heart i turned away, and heaved a sigh. then watched the tramp of the horses' feet, as the hearse moved slowly down the street, and hot tears dimmed my eye. "only a soldier!" confined in there-- a father's joy and a mother's care, torn from his home. now a maiden sighs for his return, on his sister's cheek the teardrops burn, for her soldier-brother's gone. "only a soldier!" i thought anew, as fancy came, and i quickly drew "the parting hour," that hour he left at his country's call, to place himself as a living wall, where sterner men might cower. in dreams he'd seen friends kneeling down to raise his head from the battle-ground, and thus he'd say: "tell my father that fighting i fell, 'mid hammering shot and screaming shell, when the south had won the day." alas! he never had dreamed of death, but as borne on whistling bullets' breath, 'mid muskets flashing; and where the war-dogs howling loud, breathe with sulphur-smoke a battle cloud-- the shells with thunders crashing! but a fevered cot is his battle-ground, and slowly, calmly in death he's bound to the "far-off-land." no gentle sister's spirit is there, e'en in stranger's form with tender care, to bathe his dry burning hand. the dark sod hides the form of the dead, dew-drops kiss no more that pale forehead, nor gleam on his hair. life's hope is gone! life's sorrowing o'er, his spirit is on the "echoless shore," dwelling with angels up there. thus unwept, unmourned, he sank to rest, e'en by human sympathy unblest, to an unknown grave! god, who notes e'en the sparrow's fall, shall, in the dread resurrection, call to heaven the soldier brave! when the boys come home. the boys are coming home again, this war will soon be o'er, the southern land again will stand, as happy as of yore; yes, hand in hand, and arm in arm, together we will roam, oh! won't we have a happy time, when all the boys come home. chorus.--we'll hoist the starry cross again, on freedom's lofty dome; and live in peace and happiness, when all the boys come home. we'll hoist the starry cross again, on freedom's lofty dome; and live in peace and happiness, when all the boys come home. we'll have no more false hopes and fears, no more heartrending sighs-- the messengers of peace will dry the weary mourner's eyes, we'll laugh and sing, we'll dance and play, oh! wait until they come, and joy will crown the happy day, when all the boys come home. chorus. how proud our nation then will stand! united evermore, we'll bid defiance to the foe, that dare approach our shore, we'll hoist the starry cross again, on freedom's lofty dome, and live in peace and happiness, when all the boys come home. chorus. the drummer boy of shiloh. on shiloh's dark and bloody ground the dead and wounded lay, amongst them was a drummer boy that beat the drum that day; a wounded soldier raised him up--his drum was by his side-- he clasped his hands, and raised his eyes, and prayed before he died. "look down upon the battlefield, o thou our heavenly friend, have mercy on our sinful souls"--the soldiers cried, "amen!" for gathered 'round, a little group, each brave man knelt and cried-- they listened to the drummer boy who prayed before he died. "oh, mother," said the dying boy, "look down from heaven on me! receive me to thy fond embrace! oh, take me home to thee! i've loved my country as my god, to serve them both i've tried," he smiled, shook hands, death seized the boy who prayed before he died. each soldier wept then like a child--stout hearts were they and brave-- the flag his winding-sheet! god's book the key unto his grave; they wrote upon a simple board these words, "this is a guide, to those who mourn the drummer boy who prayed before he died." [illustration: alabama volunteer corps.] old stonewall. by c. d. dasher. music by f. younker. [the music of this song can be obtained of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] oh, don't you remember old stonewall, my boys, old stonewall on charger so gray, whose memory is dear to the sons of the south, the heroes that once wore the gray. he was true to the cause of the men that he led, heroic in death as in life, from heaven above he smiles on the brave, who have ceased from mad carnage and strife-- from heaven above he smiles on the brave, who have ceased from mad carnage and strife. the harvest waves over the battlefield, boys, and where bullets once pattered like rain, the peach blooms are drifting like snow in the air, and the hillocks are springing in grain, oh! green in our hearts may the memories be, of those heroes, in blue or in grey, as new growing grain, for never again, can they meet in dread battle array-- as new growing grain, for never again, can they meet in dread battle array. the south; or, i love thee the more. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] my heart in its sadness turns fondly to thee, dear land where our lov'd ones fought hard to be free; i loved thee when struggling, and bleeding and sore, but now thou art conquered, i love thee the more! gallant south! when the noble, the gifted, the brave, dashed onward to battle, like wave after wave, determin'd to die for the land they adore, though vain were their efforts, i love thee the more. bright south! though the winter is closing around, and dead leaves of autumn now carpet the ground, thy beauties of woodland, of river and shore, still charm the beholder, i love thee the more. dear south! though thy beautiful forests and hills, thy emerald valleys and silvery rills, are subject to strangers--not free as of yore-- thus changed, and in sorrow, i love thee the more. sweet south! lovely land of beautiful flowers, though cool now the zephyrs, and faded thy bowers, oh, soon shall the springtime thy beauties restore, and bloom o'er our lost ones--i love thee the more. darling south! when i think every forest and grove, and valley have pillow'd the heads that we love, have echoed their war cry and drank of their gore, i feel thou art sacred, and love thee the more. the poor soldier! a popular camp-fire song of the d alabama regiment (the boy regiment.) little do rich people know, what we poor soldiers undergo-- called upon to take up arms, to guard our country from all harm. break of day--the morning gun, wakes the rebels--the fife and drum, breaks a soldier's sweet repose-- he tumbles out--puts on his clothes. first sergeant rushes in and out: "hurrah! hurrah, boys! do turn out;" front and rear he forms his line-- his 'coutrements and sword must shine. "eyes right!--steady!" is the word; our captain then presents his sword-- the sergeant jerks out his roll-- names are called--the absent told. our surgeon is a man of skill, gives the sick each day bread pills; if his pills do not act well-- he swears and damns our souls to hell. would you know who wrote this song, i will tell--it won't take long; it was composed by a. t. height, while walking post one rainy night. the bonnie white flag; or, the prisoner's invocation to peace. col. w. s. hawkins. in _camp chase ventilator_, . _air--"bonnie blue flag."_ though we're a band of prisoners, let each be firm and true, for noble souls and hearts of oak, the foe can ne'er subdue. we then will turn us homeward, to those we love so dear; for peace and happiness, my boys, oh, give a hearty cheer! chorus.--hurrah! hurrah! for peace and home, hurrah! hurrah for the bonnie white flag, that ends this cruel war! the sword into the scabbard, the musket on the wall, the cannon from its blazing throat, no more shall hurl the ball; from wives and babes and sweethearts, no longer will we roam, for ev'ry gallant soldier boy, shall seek his cherished home. chorus. our battle banners furled away, no more shall greet the eye, nor beat of angry drums be heard, nor bugle's hostile cry. the blade no more be raised aloft, in conflict fierce and wild. the bomb shall roll across the sward, the plaything of a child. chorus. no pale-faced captive then shall stand, behind his rusted bars, nor from the prison window bleak, look sadly to the stars; but out amid the woodland's green, on bounding steed he'll be, and proudly from his heart shall rise, the anthem of the free. chorus. the plow into the furrow then, the fields shall wave with grain, and smiling children to their schools, all gladly go again. the church invites its grateful throng, and man's rude striving cease, while all across our noble land, shall glow the light of peace. chorus. bombardment of vicksburg. dedicated with respect and admiration to maj.-gen. earl van dorn. for sixty days and upward a storm of shell and shot, rained 'round as in a flaming shower, but still we faltered not! "if the noble city perish," our grand young leader said, "let the only walls the foe shall scale be ramparts of the dead!" for sixty days and upward the eye of heaven waxed dim, and even throughout god's holy morn, o'er christian's prayer and hymn, arose a hissing tumult, as if the fiends of air, strove to engulf the voice of faith in shriekings of despair. there was wailing in the houses, there was trembling on the marts, while the tempest raged and thundered 'midst the silent thrill of hearts; but the lord, our shield, was with us--and ere a month had sped, our very women walked the streets, with scarce one throb of dread. and the little children gambolled--their faces purely raised, just for a wondering moment as the huge bombs whirled and blazed! then turning with silv'ry laughter to the sports which children love, thrice mailed in the sweet instinctive thought that the good god watched above.[ ] yet the hailing bolts fell faster from scores of flame-clad ships, and above us, denser, darker, grew the conflict's wide eclipse, 'till a solid cloud closed o'er like a type of doom and ire, whence shot a thousand quiv'ring tongues of forked and vengeful fire. but the unseen hands of angels, these death shafts warned aside, and the dove of heavenly mercy, ruled o'er the battle tide; in the houses ceased the wailing, and through the war-scarred marts, the people strode with the step of hope to the music in their hearts. death of stonewall jackson. music by c. blamphin. on a bright may morn in 'sixty-three, and eager for the action, on a battlefield for liberty, stood gallant stonewall jackson. both flesh and blood alike the same, they strove to gain each other's fame, and long may hist'ry pen the name, of gallant stonewall jackson. chorus.--who was his soldiers' pride, and for his country died, on a bright may day in 'sixty-three, and ready for the action, on a battlefield for liberty stood gallant stonewall jackson. a man more kind was never born, in battle no one bolder; his loss all noble hearts will mourn, this gallant faithful soldier; for when the word was duty, he was first to fight for victory; oh! may he live in history, the gallant stonewall jackson. chorus. but alas! his time was come, to see our promised land; his comrade's fatal gun, shot through his arm and hand; the almighty's will was read, upon his noble brow; "my race is run," he said. death has its victim now. chorus. the southern captive. by capt. sam houston. [the music of this song can be obtained of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] softly comes the twilight stealing gently through my prison bars, while from out the vault of heaven, faintly glimmering come the stars; well i know my mother's weeping for her long-lost wandering boy-- does she know that still i'm living? even that would give her joy. no, they tell her that i'm sleeping 'neath the turf on shiloh's plain; that she ne'er will see her wanderer--never on this earth again; oh, my poor heart sinks within me, as the months roll slowly by, and it seems in this cold northland a lone captive i must die! yes, far away from friends and kindred, without a hand to mark my grave-- and not upon a field of glory i'll sleep amid the southern brave; mother! yes, your boy is dying! soon he'll pass through death's dark wave, and the wintry wind be sighing o'er a captive's lonely grave. the volunteer; or, it is my country's call. by harry mccarthy. i leave my home and thee, dear, with sorrow at my heart, it is my country's call, dear, to aid her, i depart; and on the blood-red battle plain, we'll conquer or we'll die; 'tis for our honor and our name, we raise the battle-cry. chorus.--then weep not, dearest, weep not, if in the cause i fall; oh, weep not, dearest, weep not, it is my country's call. and yet, my heart is sore, love, to see thee weeping thus; but mark me, there's no fear, love, for in heaven is our trust; and if the heavy drooping tear swells in my mournful eye, it is that northmen of our land should cause the battle-cry. chorus. our rights have been usurp'd, dear, by northmen of land; fanatics rais'd the cry, dear, politicians fired the brand; the southrons spurn the galling yoke, the tyrants' threats defy; they find we've sons like sturdy oaks to raise the battle-cry. chorus. i knew you'd let me go, pet, i saw it in that tear, to join the gallant men, pet, who never yet knew fear; with beauregard and davis, we'll gain our cause or die; win battles like manassas, and raise the battle-cry. chorus. dear mother, i've come home to die. by e. bowers. music by henry tucker. dear mother, i remember well the parting kiss you gave me, when merry rang the village bell-- my heart was full of joy and glee: i did not dream that one short year, would crush the hopes that soared so high! oh, mother dear, draw near to me; dear mother, i've come home to die. chorus.--call sister, brother, to my side, and take your soldier's last good-by. oh, mother dear, draw near to me; dear mother, i've come home to die. hark! mother, 'tis the village bell, i can no longer with thee stay; my country calls to arms! to arms! the foe advance in fierce array! the vision's past--i feel that now, for country i can only sigh. oh, mother dear, draw near to me: dear mother, i've come home to die. chorus. dear mother, sister, brother, all, one parting kiss--to all good-by: weep not, but clasp your hand in mine, and let me like a soldier die! i've met the foe upon the field, where hosts contending scorned to fly; i fought for right--god bless you all-- dear mother, i've come home to die. chorus. polk. by h. l. flash. a flash from the edge of a hostile trench, a puff of smoke, a roar, whose echo shall roll from kennesaw hills, to the farthermost christian shore, proclaim to the world that the warrior-priest will battle for right no more. and that for a cause which is sanctified, by the blood of martyrs unknown-- a cause for which they gave their lives, and for which he gave his own-- he kneels, a meek ambassador, at the foot of the father's throne. [illustration: "a flash from the edge of a hostile trench."] and up to the courts of another world, that angels alone have trod, he lives away from the din and strife of this blood-besprinkled sod-- crowned with the amaranthine wreath, that is worn by the blest of god. the rebel's dream. by a. f. leovy. music by ch. reisner. permission of a. e. blackmar, new orleans. softly in dreams of repose, a vision so pure and so sweet, shines on a soldier's sad soul, while his flag lies so low at his feet; softly an angel is seen, who saddens the spot with a sigh, swiftly the banner is raised, and borne to bright realms in the sky. soft music from heavenly choirs, resounds from that paradise shore. oh! how sweet to the dreamer's light heart, he sees his brave comrades once more. his banner now floats o'er the blest, and shimmers in heaven's pure air; a voice from its folds is now heard, jackson prays for the flag that is there. the soldier awakes from his dream. oh! that his sorrows were past, beyond the bright stars and the sky, there's a home for the weary at last, the gleam of some paradise joys, will greet him in heaven's pure air, o the heroes who perished for right, how sweet to rejoin them all there! pro memora. by ina m. porter, of alabama. _air--"there is rest for the weary."_ lo! the southland queen emerging, from her sad and wintry gloom, robes her torn and bleeding bosom, in her richest orient bloom. chorus.--(_repeat first line three times._) for her weary sons are resting by the eden shore; they have won the crown immortal, and the cross of death is o'er! when the oriflamme is burning, on the starlit eden shore. brightly still in gorgeous glory, god's great jewel lights the sky; look! upon the heart's white dial, there's a shadow flitting by. chorus.--but the weary feet are resting, etc. homes are dark and hearts are weary, souls are numb with hopeless pain; for the footfall on the threshold never more to sound again! chorus.--they have gone from us forever, aye, for evermore! we must win the crown immortal, follow where they led before, where the oriflamme is burning, on the starlit eden shore. proudly, as our southern forests, meet the winter's shafts so keen; time-defying memories cluster, round our hearts in living green. chorus.--they have gone from us forever, etc. may our faltering voices mingle, in the angel-chanted psalm; may our earthly chaplets linger, by the bright celestial palm. chorus.--they have gone from us forever, etc. crest to crest they bore our banner, side by side they fell asleep; hand in hand we scatter flowers, heart to heart we kneel and weep. chorus.--they have gone from us forever, etc. when the may eternal dawneth at the living god's behest, we will quaff divine nepenthe, we shall share the soldier's rest. chorus.--where the weary feet are resting, etc. where the shadows are uplifted, 'neath the never-waning sun, shout we gloria in excelsis! we have lost, but ye have won! chorus.--our hearts are yours forever, aye, for evermore! ye have won the crown immortal, and the cross of death is o'er, when the oriflamme is burning on the starlit eden shore! wearin' of the gray. by tar heel. [the music of this song can be obtained of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] oh! johnny, dear, and did you hear the news that's lately spread, that never more the southern cross must rear its stately head; the "white and red's" forbid by law, so northmen proudly say, nor you nor i can e'er again be "wearin' of the gray!" and when we meet with strangers kind, who take us by the hand, inquiring warmly of the south, our own beloved land, we're bound to tell the woeful truth, let cost whate'er it may, that some are threatened e'en with death, for "wearin' of the gray!" then since the color we must wear is of the hateful blue, the children of the sunny south must be to mem'ry true; ah! take the cockade from their hats and tread it 'neath the feet, and still tho' bruis'd and mangled sad, 'twill speak a language sweet; and buried in our heart of hearts the precious words lie hid, where oft they call the bitter tears to wet the drooping lid; but let them flow, they do us good thro' all the mournful day, while constant we do call to mind the "wearin' of the gray!" and if at last our father's law be torn from southland's heart, her sons will take their household gods and far away depart; rememb'ring still the whisper'd word, to weary wand'rers giv'n, that justice pure, and perfect rest, are found alone in heav'n. then on some green and distant isle beneath the setting sun, we'll patient wait the coming time when life and earth are done, nor even in the dying hour, while passing calm away, can we forget or e'er regret the "wearin' of the gray!" [illustration: south carolina button.] the faded gray jacket. by mrs. c. a. ball. music by charlie ward. permission of the w. s. shaw co., philadelphia. fold it up carefully, lay it aside, tenderly touch it, look on it with pride; for dear must it be to our hearts evermore, the jacket of gray our loved soldier boy wore. can we ever forget when he joined the brave band, who rose in defense of our dear southern land; and in his bright youth hurried on to the fray, how proudly he donned it, the jacket of gray? chorus.--fold it up carefully, lay it aside, tenderly touch it, look on it with pride; for dear it must be to our hearts evermore, the jacket of gray our loved soldier boy wore. his fond mother blessed him and looked up above, commending to heaven the child of her love; what anguish was hers, mortal tongue may not say, when he passed from her sight in the jacket of gray. but her country had called him, she would not repine, though costly the sacrifice placed on its shrine; her heart's dearest hopes on its altar she lay, when she sent out her boy, in his jacket of gray! chorus. months passed, and war's thunders rolled over the land, unsheathed was the sword and lighted the brand; we heard in the distance the noise of the fray, and prayed for our boy in the jacket of gray. ah! vain all--all vain were our prayers and our tears the glad shout of victory rang in our ears; but our treasured one on the cold battle-field lay, while the life blood oozed out on the jacket of gray. chorus. his young comrades found him and tenderly bore his cold, lifeless form to his home by the shore; oh! dark were our hearts on that terrible day, when we saw our dead boy in the jacket of gray. ah! spotted, and tattered, and stained now with gore, was the garment which once he so gracefully wore; we bitterly wept as we took it away, and replaced with death's white robes, the jacket of gray. chorus. we laid him to rest in his cold, narrow bed, and graved on the marble, we placed o'er his head, as the proudest of tributes our sad hearts could pay, "he never disgraced the dear jacket of gray." then fold it up carefully, lay it aside, tenderly touch it, look on it with pride; for dear must it be to our hearts evermore, the jacket of gray our loved soldier boy wore. chorus. i'm a good old rebel. by j. r. t. [the music of this song can be obtained of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] o, i'm a good old rebel, now that's just what i am, for this "fair land of freedom" i do not care a damn; i'm glad i fit against it, i only wish we'd won, and i don't want no pardon for anything i done. i hates the constitution, this great republic too, i hates the freedman's buro, in uniform of blue; i hates the nasty eagle, with all his bragg and fuss, the lyin', thievin' yankees, i hates them wuss and wuss. i hates the yankee nation and everything they do, i hates the declaration of independence, too; i hates the glorious union-- 'tis dripping with our blood-- i hates their striped banner, i fit it all i could. [illustration: "i'm a good old rebel."] three hundred thousand yankees is stiff in southern dust; we got three hundred thousand before they conquered us; they died of southern fever, and southern steel and shot, i wish they was three million, instead of what we got. i followed old mas' robert for four year near about, got wounded in three places, and starved at pint lookout; i cotched the roomatism, a campin' in the snow, but i killed a chance o' yankees, i'd like to kill some mo'. i can't take up my musket and fight 'em now no more, but i ain't a-going to love 'em, now that is sartin' sure; and i don't want no pardon, for what i was and am, i won't be reconstructed, and i don't care a damn. true to the gray. by pearl rivers. i cannot listen to your words, the land is long and wide; go seek some happy northern girl to be your loving bride; my brothers they were soldiers--the youngest of the three was slain while fighting by the side of gallant fitzhugh lee! they left his body on the field (your side the day had won), a soldier spurned him with his foot--you might have been the one; my lover was a soldier--he belonged to gordon's band; a sabre pierced his gallant heart--your's might have been the hand. he reel'd and fell, but was not dead, a horseman spurr'd his steed and trampled on the dying brain--you may have done the deed; i hold no hatred in my heart, no cold, unrighteous pride, for many a gallant soldier fought upon the other side. but still i cannot kiss the hand that smote my country sore, nor love the foes that trampled down the colors that she bore; between my heart and yours there rolls a deep and crimson tide-- my brother's and my lover's blood forbid me be your bride. the girls who lov'd the boys in gray--the girls to country true, may ne'er in wedlock give their hands to those who wore the blue. we know that we were rebels; or, why can we not be brothers? by clarence prentice. why can we not be brothers? the battle now is o'er; we've laid our bruised arms on the field to take them up no more; we who have fought you hard and long, now overpower'd, stand as poor, defenseless prisoners in our own native land. chorus.--we know that we were rebels, and we don't deny the name, we speak of that which we have done with grief, but not with shame! but we have rights most sacred, by solemn compact bound, seal'd by the blood that freely gush'd from many a ghastly wound; when lee gave up his trusty sword, and his men laid down their arms, it was that they should live at home, secure from war's dire harms. chorus. and surely, since we're now disarm'd, we are not to be dreaded; our old chiefs, who on many fields our trusty columns headed, are fast within an iron grasp, and manacled with chains, perchance, 'twixt dreary walls to stay as long as life remains! chorus. o shame upon the coward band who, in the conflict dire, went not to battle for their cause, 'mid the ranks of steel and fire, yet now, since all the fighting's done, are hourly heard to cry: "down with the traitors! hang them all! each rebel dog shall die!" chorus. we know that we were rebels, we don't deny the name, we speak of that which we have done with grief, but not with shame! and we never will acknowledge that the blood the south has spilt, was shed defending what we deemed a cause of wrong and guilt. chorus. wearing of the gray. our cannons' mouths are dumb. no more our volleyed muskets peal, nor gleams, to mark where squadrons rush, the light from flashing steel; no more our crossed and starry flags in gentle dalliance play with battle breeze, as when we fought, a wearing of the gray. our cause is lost! no more we fight 'gainst overwhelming power; all wearied are our limbs, and drenched with many a battle shower; we fain would rest! for want of strength we yield them up the day, and lower the flag so proudly borne while wearing of the gray. defeat is not dishonor! no! of honor not bereft, we should thank god that in our breasts this priceless boon is left; and though we weep 'tis for those braves who stood in proud array beneath our flag, and nobly died while wearing of the gray. when in the ranks of war we stood, and faced the deadly hail, our simple suits of gray composed our only coats of mail; and of those awful hours that marked the bloody battle day, in memory we'll still be seen a wearing of the gray. o, should we reach that glorious place where waits the sparkling crown, for every one who for the right his soldier life lay down, god grant to us the privilege, upon that happy day, of clasping hands with those who fell a wearing of the gray. the sword of robert lee. words by moina. music by armand. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] forth from its scabbard, pure and bright, flashed the sword of lee! far in the front of the deadly fight, high o'er the brave, in the cause of right it's stainless sheen, like a beacon light, led us to victory. out of its scabbard, when full long it slumbered peacefully-- roused from its rest by the battle song, shielding the feeble, smiting the strong, guarding the right, and avenging the wrong-- gleamed the sword of lee! forth from its scabbard, high in air, beneath virginia's sky-- and they who saw it gleaming there, and knew who bore it, knelt to swear, that where that sword led they would dare to follow and to die. out of its scabbard! never hand waved sword from stain as free, nor purer sword led braver band, nor braver bled for a brighter land, nor brighter land had a cause as grand, nor cause a chief like lee! forth from its scabbard! how we prayed, that sword might victor be! and when our triumph was delayed, and many a heart grew sore afraid, we still hoped on, while gleamed the blade of noble robert lee! forth from its scabbard! all in vain! forth flashed the sword of lee! 'tis shrouded now in its sheath again, it sleeps the sleep of our noble slain, defeated, yet without a stain, proudly and peacefully. off with your gray suits, boys! by lieut. falligant, savannah, ga. off with gray suits, boys! off with your rebel gear! it smacks too much of the cannon's peal, the lightning flash of your deadly steel, and fills our hearts with fear. the color is like the smoke, that curled o'er your battle line; it calls to mind the yell that woke, when the dastard columns before you broke, and their dead wore your fatal sign! off with your starry wreaths, ye who have led our van! for you 'twas the pledge of a glorious death, as we followed you over the glorious heath, when we whipped them man to man! down with the cross and stars! too long has it waved on high; 'tis covered all over with battle scars, but its gleam the hated banner mars-- 'tis time to lay it by. down with the vows we had made! down with each memory! down with the thoughts of our noble dead! down, down to the dust where their forms are laid, and down with liberty! the confederate note.[ ] by s. a. jonas. representing nothing on god's earth now, and naught in the water below it, as a pledge of a nation that's dead and gone, keep it, dear captain, and show it. show it to those that will lend an ear to the tale this paper can tell, of liberty born, of the patriot's dream, of a storm-cradled nation that fell. too poor to possess the precious ore, and too much a stranger to borrow, we issue to-day our "promise to pay," and hope to redeem on the morrow. days rolled by, and weeks became years, but our coffers were empty still; coin was so rare that the treasurer quakes, if a dollar should drop in the till. [illustration] but the faith that was in us was strong indeed, and our poverty well we discerned, and these little checks represented the pay that our suffering veterans earned. we knew it had hardly a value in gold, yet as gold the soldiers received it; it gazed in our eyes with a promise to pay, and each patriot soldier believed it. but our boys thought little of price or pay, or of bills that were over-due; we knew if it bought our bread to-day, 'twas the best our country could do. keep it! it tells all our history over, from the birth of the dream to its last; modest, and born of the angel hope, like our hope of success it passed. the conquered banner. by the rev. j. a. ryan, catholic priest of knoxville, diocese of nashville, tenn. music by a. e. blackmar. [the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] furl that banner, for 'tis weary; round its staff 'tis drooping dreary; furl it, fold it, it is best; for there's not a man to wave it, and there's not a sword to save it, and there's not one left to lave it in the blood which heroes gave it; and its foes now scorn and brave it,-- furl it, hide it, let it rest. take that banner down--'tis tattered, broken is its staff and shattered, and the valiant hosts are scattered over whom it floated high. oh! 'tis hard for us to fold it, hard to think there's none to hold it, hard that those who once unrolled it now must furl it with a sigh. furl that banner, furl it sadly-- once ten thousands hailed it gladly, and ten thousands wildly, madly, swore it should forever wave, swore that foeman's sword could never hearts like their's entwined dissever, 'till that flag would float forever o'er their freedom or their grave. furl it! for the hands that grasped it, and the hearts that fondly clasped it, cold and dead are lying low; and the banner, it is trailing while around it sounds the wailing of its people in their woe. for, though conquered, they adore it, love the cold, dead hands that bore it, weep for those who fell before it, pardon those who trailed and tore it, and oh! wildly they deplore it, now to furl and fold it so. furl that banner! true 'tis gory, yet 'tis wreathed around with glory, and 'twill live in song and story, though its folds are in the dust; for its fame on brightest pages, penned by poets and by sages, shall go sounding down the ages, furl its folds though now we must. furl that banner! softly, slowly, treat it gently--it is holy-- for it droops above the dead; touch it not, unfold it never; let it droop there, furled forever, for its people's hopes are dead. fold it up carefully. a reply to "the conquered banner," by sir henry houghton, bart., of england. gallant nation, foiled by numbers, say not that your hopes are fled; keep that glorious flag which slumbers, one day to avenge your dead. keep it, widowed, sonless mothers, keep it, sisters, mourning brothers, furl it with an iron will; furl it now, but--keep it still, think not that its work is done. keep it 'till your children take it, once again to hail and make it all their sires have bled and fought for, all their noble hearts have sought for, bled and fought for all alone. all alone! aye, shame the story. millions here deplore the stain, shame, alas! for england's glory, freedom called, and called in vain. furl that banner, sadly, slowly, treat it gently, for 'tis holy: 'till that day--yes, furl it sadly, then once more unfurl it gladly-- conquered banner--keep it still! [illustration] index. _index to titles._ a confederate officer to his lady love, address of the women to the southern troops, alabama, allons enfans, all quiet along the potomac to-night, an old texan's appeal, a north carolina call to arms, another yankee doodle, arise! ye sons of free-born sires!, a southern song, , a southern woman's song, at fort pillow, awake! to arms in texas, banks' skedaddle, battle of the mississippi, battle song, battle song of the invaded, baylor's partisan rangers, bayou city guards' dixie, bayou city guards' song, bombardment and battle of galveston, bombardment of vicksburg, boys! keep your powder dry, bull run, by the banks of red river, call all! call all!, campaign ballad, camp douglas by the lake, cannon song, carolina, chivalrous c. s. a., confederate land, confederate song, dear mother, i've come home to die, death of gen. albert sidney johnston, death of stonewall jackson, de cotton down in dixie, dixie, dixie's land, do they miss me in the trenches, dutch volunteer, duty and defiance, elegy on the death of lieut.-col. ch. b. dreux, flight of doodles, fold it up carefully, for bales, freedom's new banner, gathering song, gay and happy, general lee at the battle of the wilderness, general tom green, god bless our southern land, god save the south, god will defend the right, goober peas, hard times, here's your mule, hood's old brigade, hood's texas brigade, hurrah!, i'm a good old rebel, i'm thinking of the soldier, imogen, independence day, in memoriam, i remember the hour when sadly we parted, i wish i was in dixie's land, jackson's resignation, knitting for the soldiers, ladies, to the hospital, land of king cotton, land of the south, lee at the wilderness, little giffin, missouri, morgans war song, , mother! is the battle over?, my heart's in mississippi, my maryland, my noble warrior come!, my warrior boy, national hymn, new red, white and blue, north carolina's war song, no surrender, off with your gray suits, boys!, oh, no! he'll not need them again, o, johnny bull, my jo, john, old stonewall, only a soldier, on to glory, our braves in virginia, our country's call, our flag; or, the origin of the stars and bars, our glorious flag, over the river, , patriotic song, polk, pop goes the weasel, pray, maiden, pray, private maguire, pro memora, rallying song of the virginians, reading the list, rebel is a sacred name, rebel toasts; or, drink it down, richmond is a hard road to travel, richmond on the james, riding a raid, sabine pass, short rations; or the corn-fed army, soldier, i stay to pray for thee, song, song for the south, song of hooker's picket, song of the exile, song of the privateer, song of the snow, song of the south, song of the southern soldier, song of the texas rangers, southern battle song, southern cross, southern gathering song, southern marseillaise, southern soldier boy, southern song, southern song of freedom, southern war cry, southron's war song, southron's chant of defiance, the, star of the west, the, stonewall jackson, stonewall jackson's way, stonewall's requiem, stuart, sweethearts and the war, that bugler, the band in the pines, the banner song, the bars and stars, the battle of galveston, the battle of shiloh hill, the battle song of the south, the beloved memory of major-general tom green, the black flag, the bonnie blue flag, the bonnie white flag, the capture of seventeen of company h, th texas cavalry, the cavalier's glee, the confederate note, the confederate oath, the contraband, the conquered banner, the cotton burner's song, the countersign, the darlings at home, the drummer boy of shiloh, the dying soldier boy, the faded gray jacket, the flag of the southland, the funeral of albert sidney johnston, the gallant girl that smote the dastard tory, oh!, the homespun dress, the horse marines at galveston, the hour before execution, the man of the twelfth of may, the mother's farewell, the navasota volunteers, the officer's funeral, the officers of dixie, the poor soldier, the rebel band, the rebel's dream, the sentinel's dream of home, the soldier's amen, the soldier's death, the soldier's dream, the soldier's farewell, the soldier's mission, the soldier's suit of gray, the south, the southern banner, the southern captive, the southern flag, the southern soldier boy, the south for me, the south our country, the southron's watchword, the stars and the bars, the sword of robert lee, the texan marseillaise, the toast of morgan's men, the volunteer, the volunteer; or, it is my country's call, the young volunteer, there's life in the old land yet, three cheers for our jack morgan, to the davis guard, true heart southrons, true to the gray, vicksburg song, war song, , , wearin' of the gray, wearing of the gray, we conquer or die, we know that we were rebels; or why can we not be brothers, we left him on the field, we'll be free in maryland, we swear, when the boys come home, would'st thou have me love thee, yankee vandals, "ye men of alabama,", you are going to the wars, willie, boy!, - , _index to authors._ alexander, (capt.) g. w., ball, (mrs.) c. a., barnes, (mrs.) wm., bigney, m. f., blackford, capt., blackmar, a. e., bowers, e., brown, reuben e., caplen, (mrs.) l. e., carnes, (rev.) j. e., cave, (major) e. w., collins, p. e., cooke, john esten, cross, (mrs.) j. t. h., cummins, alex. a., cunningham, a. b., , cunningham, (lieut.) w. p., dasher, c. d., duke, (gen.) basil, emmett, dan. d., ezzell, s. r., falligant, lieut., falligant, robert, flash, h. l., fontaine, (major) lamar, , forshey, (col.) c. g., french, l. virginia, grason, (miss) maria, griswold, (capt.) e., haines, james, hawkins (col.), w. s., , hayne, paul h., haynes, w. a., hewitt, john h., hewett, john m., hobby, (capt.) edwin, hobby, (col.) a. m., holtz, r. e., houghton, (bart.) sir henry, houston, (capt.) sam, jones, (miss) maria e., , , ketchum, annie c., kercheval, a. w., kidd, e. e., knight, a. g., leonard, a. f., leovy, a. f., lorrimer, laura, magruder, (maj-gen.) j. b., marshall, jas. b., mccarthy, harry, , , , mcknight, major ("asa hartz"), meek, alex. b., miles, geo. h., milror, george b., moore, (miss) mollie e., , , morris, a. e., morse, a. w., neeby, anna marie, neely, wm., norfolk, virginia, paine, (dr.) john w., pender, a., phelan, john d., pierpont, jas., pike, albert, porter, ina m., prentice, clarence, preston, (mrs.) m. j., randall, jas. b., randall, jas. r., , raymond, eugene, rivers, pearl, ryan, father, ryan, (rev.) j. a., signaigo, jo augustine, sinclair, (miss) carrie bell, smith, mary e., smith, m. b., , strawbridge, h. h., sulzner, fr., tally, susan a., thompson, e. m., thompson, jeff., thorpe, (capt.), thovington, j. s., ticknor, (dr.) francis o., townsend, dan. e., tucker, st. geo., turner, (miss) j., upshur, mary j., vose, (mrs.) henry j., waginer, j. a., wailes, (capt.) e. lloyd, walther, h., warfield, c. a., washington, (col.) hamilton, wilson, mary l., woodcock, j. h., wright, (capt.) j. w. a., young, (mrs.) j. d., young, (mrs.) m. j., index to first lines. a farmer came to camp, one day, with milk and eggs to sell, a flash from the edge of a hostile trench, aha! a song for the trumpet's tongue, alas! the rolling hours pass slow, a life on the vicksburg bluff, all quiet along the potomac to-night, a nation has sprung into life, arise! arise! with main and might, arise! ye sons of freeborn sires, arise! your country save, as a couple of good soldiers were walking one day, a soldier boy from texas lay gasping on the field, at bull run, when the sun was low, a warrior has fallen! a chieftain has gone, away down south in de fields of cotton, bob roebuck is my sweetheart's name, bravely ye've fought, my gallant, gallant men, by blue patapsco's billowy dash, by the cross upon our banner--glory of our southern sky, can'st tell who lose the battle oft in the council field, cheer, boys, cheer! we'll march away to battle, childhood's days have long since faded, come, all ye sons of freedom, come all ye temper'd hearts of steel--come, quit your flocks and farms, come, all ye valiant soldiers, and a story i will tell, come, brothers! rally for the right, come! come! come, come, stack arms, men! pile on the rails, countrymen of washington, darkies, has you seed my massa, dear mother, i remember well, do they miss me in the trenches, do they miss me, down by the valley, 'mid thunder and lightning, ever constant, ever true, fair ladies and maids of all ages, fearlessly the seas we roam, fighting for our rights now, feasting when they're won, flag of the southland! flag of the free, fold away all your bright tinted dresses, fold it up carefully, lay it aside, forth from its scabbard pure and bright, for sixty days and upward a storm of shell and shot, for trumpet and drum, leave the soft voice of maiden, from houston city and brazos bottom, furl that banner, for 'tis weary, gallant nation, foiled by numbers, god bless our southern land, god save the south, halt! the march is over, hark! the clock strikes! all, all that now remains, hark! the tocsin is sounding, my comrades, hark! 'tis the shrill trumpet calling, haste thee, falter not, noble patriot band, have you counted up the cost, hear the summons, sons of texas, hear ye not the sound of battle, he fell and they cried, bring us home our dead!, ho, gallants, brim the beaker bowl, hurrah! for the southern confederate state, hurrah for the south, the glorious south! the land of song and story, huzza! huzza! let's raise the battle-cry, i am dreaming of thee, i cannot listen to your words, the land is long and wide, i come from old manassas, with a pocket full of fun, if ever i consent to be married, i leave my home, and thee, dear, with sorrow at my heart, i'll sing you a song of the south's sunny clime, i'm a soldier, you see, that oppression has made, i'm gwine back to de land of cotton, i'm 'nation tired of being hired, in the land of the orange groves, sunshine and flowers, i remember the hour when sadly we parted, "is there any news of the war?" she said, it vos in ni orleans city, it was on a new year's morn so soon, i've seen some handsome uniforms deck'd off with buttons bright, i wish i was in de land o' cotton, i wish i was in de land ob cotton, just listen awhile, and give ear to my song, king abraham is very sick, kneel, ye southrons, kneel and swear, knitting for the soldiers, lady, i go to fight for thee, land of our birth, thee, thee i sing, land of the south! the fairest land, let me whisper in your ear, sir, like the roar of the wintry surges on a wild tempestuous strand, little do rich people know, lo! the southland queen emerging, lo! when mississippi rolls, maiden, pray for thy lover now, march, march on, brave "palmetto" boys, 'mid her ruins proudly stands, missouri is the pride of the nation, missouri! missouri! bright land of the west, mother! is the battle over? thousands have been killed, they say, my heart in its sadness turns fondly to thee, my heart is in mississippi, my love reposes on a rosewood frame, now let the thrilling anthem rise, now rouse ye, gallant comrades all, o band in the pinewood cease!, "och, its nate to be captain or colonel", of all the mighty nations in the east or in the west, off with gray suits, boys!, oh, dear its shameful, i declare, oh! dixie, the land of king cotton, oh, don't you remember old stonewall, my boys, oh! freedom is a blessed thing, oh, gone is the soul from his wondrous dark eye, oh! here i am in the land of cotton, oh! here's to south carolina! drink it down, oh! johnny, dear, and did you hear the news that's lately spread, oh! mother of states and of men, oh no! no! he'll not need them again, oh! say can you see through the gloom and the storms, oh! the tocsin of war still resounds o'er the land, oh! yes, i am a southern girl, o, johnny bull, my jo, john! i wonder what you mean, o, i'm a good old rebel, o, i'm thinking of the soldier as the evening shadows fall, old eve she did the apple eat, on a bright may morn in 'sixty-three, "only a soldier!" i heard them say, on shiloh's dark and bloody ground the dead and wounded lay, o, tell me not that earth is fair, that spring is in its bloom, o, the south is the queen of all nations, our cannons' mouths are dumb. no more our volleyed muskets peal, our country, our country, oh, where may we find, our flag is unfurl'd and our arms flash bright, out of the focal and foremost fire, over the river there are fierce stern meetings, over vale and over mountain, pillow his head on his flashing sword, raise the southern flag on high!, raise the thrilling cry, to arms!, rally round our country's flag!, rebel is a sacred name, representing nothing on god's earth now, rise, rise, mountain and valley men, sabine pass! in letters of gold, sing ho! for the southerner's meteor flag, sitting by the roadside on a summer day, softly comes the twilight stealing gently through my prison bars, softly in dreams of repose, soldiers! raise your banner proudly, sons of freedom, on to glory, sons of the south arise, sons of the south, arouse to battle, sons of the south awake to glory, sons of the south, beware the foe, sons of the south! from hill and dale, southern men, unsheathe the sword, southrons, hear your country call you, states of the south! confederate land, stitch, stitch, stitch, the boys are coming home again, the boys down south in dixie's land, the despot's heel is on thy shore, the foe! the foe! they come! they come!, the hour was sad i left the maid, the morning star is paling, the camp-fires flicker low, the muffled drum is beating, the night-cloud had lowered o'er shiloh's red plain, the northern abolition vandals, the sentinel treads his martial round, the shades of night were falling fast, the snow is in the cloud, and night is gathering o'er us, the south for me! the sunny clime, the sun sinking o'er the battle plain, the tyrant's broad pennant is floating, the war drum is beating, prepare for the fight, the yankees hate the lone star state, because she did secede, there he stood, the grand old hero, great virginia's god-like son, there is freedom on each fold, and each star is freedom's throne, though we're a band of prisoners, thou hast gone forth, my darling one, three cheers for the southern flag, 'tis dead of night, nor voice, nor sound, breaks on the stillness of the air, 'tis old stonewall, the rebel, that leans on his sword, to arms! oh! men in all our southern clime, 'twas a terrible moment, 'twas early in the morning of eighteen sixty-three, 'twas midnight when we built our fires, 'twas on that dark and fearful morn, unclaimed by the land that bore us, unmoved in the battle, upon manassas' bloody plain a soldier boy lay dying, up, up with the banner, the foe is before us, wake! dearest, wake! 'tis thy lover who calls, imogen, we all went down to new orleans, we are a band of brothers, and native to the soil, weep, louisiana, weep! thy gallant dead, we have ridden from the brave southwest, we leave our pleasant homesteads, we left him on the crimson'd field, well, we can whip them now i guess, we're the boys so gay and happy, we're the navasota volunteers, our county is named grimes, what shall the southron's watchword be, when clouds of oppression o'ershaded, when history tells her story, while crimson drops our hearth-stones stain, whoop! the doodles have broken loose, why can we not be brothers? the battle now is o'er, would'st thou have me love thee, dearest, would you like to hear my song, i'm afraid it's rather long, yankee doodle had a mind, ye men of alabama, ye men of southern hearts and feeling, ye sons of carolina! awake from your dreaming, ye sons of the south, take your weapons in hand, you are going to leave me, darling, you are going to the wars, willie boy, willie boy, you can never win us back, you know the federal general banks, young as the youngest who donned the gray, young florida sends forth her clan--the old dominion's brave, young stranger, what land claims thy birth, you shudder as you think upon th' carnage of the grim report, footnotes: [ ] this was the first song published in the south during the war. [ ] the rebel ram. [ ] a writer, describing the siege of vicksburg, gives the following: "the meal issued to the army was very coarse, and there were no sieves, and the beef, as a general thing, was hardly fit to feed to a dog. some herds of texas steers were corraled near the town, lean, gaunt, long-horned, repulsive looking creatures, and every morning the weakest of the herd were slaughtered for the day's rations. in the twentieth alabama, each day a company of men could be seen having in their hands long ox-horns, upon which they occasionally blew a mournful blast, as with solemn steps and slow, they bore to a suitable burial place the beef issued to them for that day. arrived at the spot a hole was dug, the meat was dumped into it, a mound was heaped over it, a funeral oration was said, the ox-horns once more sounded the dolorous requiem, and then the mourners returned to camp, their heads bowed down with grief and sorrow. upon inquiring what this woeful pageant meant, i was informed that the men were simply engaged in "the burial of _old logan_." [ ] colonel j. j. archer. [ ] this thrilling song was circulated _sub rosa_ in new orleans, and at times almost openly. its bold and defiant tone shows it to have been written by one who must have suffered greatly at the hands of butler. [ ] the cotton supply association, of manchester, england. [ ] a touching incident occurred in montgomery at the beginning of the war. a soldier met a lovely and refined lady in the street, and feeling that in such times we are all sisters and brothers, and wishing to do homage to such beauty, he touched his hat and said: "lady, i'm going to fight for you." "sir," she instantly replied, "i am going to pray for you." [ ] constitutional liberty against oppression--a "cause" decided many times in the old world, yet to be taught in the new. [ ] the memphis _appeal_ published the following:--"on yesterday all the cotton in memphis was burned. probably not less than , bales have been burned in the last three days in west tennessee and north mississippi." [ ] capt. riley commanded a battery composed of irishmen from north carolina, and was nearly always attached to hood's brigade. the "swarthy old hounds" refer to his napoleon guns. [ ] in commemoration of gen. j. b. gordon's charge against hancock's corps at spotsylvania court house, may , . [ ] fremont, "the path-finder." [ ] battle of cedar run. [ ] sung by harry mccarthy, in his "personation concerts," in all the principal towns of the confederacy. [ ] on the morning of the battle of franklin, tennessee, major general patrick cleburne, while riding along the line, encouraging his men, saw an old friend--a captain in his command--barefooted, and feet bleeding. alighting from his horse he told the captain to "please" pull off his boots. upon the captain doing so, the general told him to try them on, which he did. whereupon the general mounted his horse, telling the captain he was tired of wearing boots, and could well do without them. he would hear of no remonstrance, and bidding the captain good-by, rode away. in this condition he was killed. [ ] brave to a fault, he was cut down in his early youth, and fell a willing sacrifice at the altar of his country. among his last words he said, "i fell beside my gun." [ ] the chorus is sung to the second part of the air, excepting after the fifth and sixth verses. [ ] several weeks after the commencement of the terrific bombardment, ladies were seen coolly walking the streets, and children in many parts of the city engaged, as ever, in their playing, only stopping their sport for the moment to gaze and listen at the bursting shells. [ ] the above lines were found written upon the back of a five-hundred dollar confederate note, subsequent to the surrender. beethoven's fifth symphony, in c-minor, opus # by ludwig van beethoven (c) , geof pawlicki (p) , geof pawlicki the accompanying files contain the four movements of the symphony as: - .mid - .mid - .mid - .mid by linda cantoni, from the civil war songbook (dover publications, ), and from th-century sheet music in the library of congress civil war and historic sheet music collections (http://www.loc.gov). the good old songs we used to sing--' to ' price, ten cents [illustration: general ulysses s. grant photo from life, ] o.h. oldroyd washington, d.c. nineteen hundred and two [illustration] [illustration] the good old songs we used to sing ' to ' . dedicated to the veterans of the war of the rebellion. first published in . ten cents. sent postpaid upon receipt of price. [illustration: the union forever] copyrighted by o.h. oldroyd, publisher washington, d.c. . sherman's march to the sea. (used by permission of s. brainard's sons, owners of the copyright.) [illustration: maj. gen'l w.t. sherman.] our camp fires shone bright on the mountain that frowned on the river below, while we stood by our guns in the morning, and eagerly watched for the foe, when a rider came out from the darkness that hung over mountains and tree, and shouted, "boys, up and be ready, for sherman will march to the sea." when cheer upon cheer for bold sherman went up from each valley and glen, and the bugle re-echoed the music that came from the lips of the men, for we knew that the stars on our banner more bright in their splendor would be, and that blessings from northland would greet us as sherman marched down to the sea. then forward, boys, forward, to battle, we marched on our wearysome way, and we strewed the wild hills of resaca-- god bless those who fell on that day. then kennesaw, dark in its glory, frowned down on the flag of the free; but the east and the west bore our standard as sherman marched down to the sea. still onward we pressed till our banner swept out from atlanta's grim walls, and the blood of the patriot dampened the soil where traitor's flag falls. but we paused not to weep for the fallen who slept by each river and tree; yet we twined them wreaths of the laurel as sherman marched down to the sea. proud, proud was our army that morning that stood by the cypress and pine when sherman said, "boys, you are weary; this day fair savannah is thine," then sang we a song for our chieftain that echoed o'er river and lea, and the stars on our banner shone brighter when sherman marched on to the sea. marching through georgia. used by permission of s. brainard's sons. [illustration: d corps.] bring the good old bugle, boys, we'll sing another song, sing it with the spirit that will start the world along,-- sing it as we used to sing it, fifty thousand strong, while we were marching through georgia. chorus. "hurrah! hurrah! we bring the jubilee! hurrah! hurrah! the flag that makes you free!" so we sang the chorus from atlanta to the sea while we were marching through georgia. how the darkies shouted when they heard the joyful sound! how the turkeys gobbled which our commissary found! how the sweet potatoes even started from the ground, while we were marching through georgia!--chorus. yes, and there were union men who wept with joyful tears when they saw the honored flag they had not seen for years; hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in cheers while we were marching through georgia.--chorus. "sherman's dashing yankee boys will never reach the coast!" so the saucy rebel said, and 'twas a handsome boast; had they not forgotten, alas! to reckon with the host, while we were marching through georgia.--chorus. so we made a thoroughfare for freedom and her train, sixty miles in latitude,--three hundred to the main, treason fled before us, for resistance was in vain, while we were marching through georgia.--chorus. [illustration] a thousand years. key of c. [illustration: solid shot.] lift up your eyes, desponding freemen! fling to the winds your needless fears! he who unfurled your beauteous banner says it shall wave a thousand years. chorus. "a thousand years!" my own columbia! 'tis the glad day so long foretold! 'tis the glad morn whose early twilight washington saw in times of old. what if the clouds one little moment hid the blue sky where morn appears when the bright sun that tints them crimson rises to shine a thousand years!--chorus. tell the great world these blessed tidings! yes, and be sure the bondman hears; tell the oppress'd of ev'ry nation jubilee lasts a thousand years.--chorus. envious foes beyond the ocean! little we heed your threat'ning sneers; little will they--our children's children when you are gone a thousand years.--chorus. rebels at home! go hide your faces-- weep for your crimes with bitter tears; you could not bind the blessed daylight, though you should strive a thousand years.--chorus. back to your dens, ye secret traitors! down to your own degraded spheres! ere the first blaze of dazzling sunshine shortens your lives a thousand years.--chorus. haste thee along, thou glorious noonday! oh! for the eyes of ancient seers! oh! for the faith of him who reckons each of his days a thousand years.--chorus. [illustration: sheridan's cavalry corps.] hail columbia. copyrighted. [illustration: maj. gen'l john a. m'clernand.] hail columbia! happy land! hail, ye heroes! heaven-born band! who fought and bled in freedom's cause, who fought and bled in freedom's cause, and when the storm of war was gone enjoyed the peace your valor won. let independence be our boast, ever mindful what it cost; ever grateful for the prize, let its altar reach the skies. firm united let us be, rallying round our liberty; as a band of brothers joined, peace and safety we shall find. immortal patriots, rise once more, defend your rights, defend your shore, let no rude foe, with impious hand, let no rude foe, with impious hand, invade the shrine where sacred lies, of toil and blood the well-earned prize. while offering peace sincere and just, in heaven we place a manly trust, that truth and justice will prevail, and every scheme of bondage fail. firm united let us be, etc. sound, sound the trump of fame! sound washington's great name, ring through the world with loud applause, ring through the world with loud applause; let every clime to freedom dear listen with a joyful ear; with equal skill and godlike power, he governed in the fearful hour of horrid war! or guides with ease the happier times of honest peace, firm united let us be, etc. [illustration: th corps.] just before the battle, mother. used by permission of s. brainard's sons. key of b. [illustration: brig. gen'l m.m. crocker.] just before the battle, mother, i am thinking most of you, while upon the field we're watching, with the enemy in view. comrades brave are round me lying, fill'd with tho'ts of home and god, for well they know that on the morrow some will sleep beneath the sod. chorus. farewell, mother, you may never press me to your heart again; but oh, you'll not forget me, mother, if i'm numbered with the slain. oh, i long to see you, mother, and the loving ones at home; but i'll never leave our banner till in honor i can come. tell the traitors, all around you, that their cruel words we know in every battle kill our soldiers by the help they give the foe.--chorus. hark! i hear the bugle sounding, 'tis the signal for the fight! now, may god protect me, mother, as he ever does the right. hear the "battle cry of freedom," how it swells upon the air! oh, yes, we'll rally round the standard, or we'll perish nobly there.--chorus. [illustration: th corps.] we've drunk from the same canteen. by maj. charles g. halpine (private miles o'riley), th n.y. vol. inf. key of c. [illustration: engineers and mechanics.] there are bonds of all sorts in this world of ours, fetters of friendship and ties of flowers, and true lovers' knots, i ween. the boys and the girls are bound by a kiss, but there's never a bond, old friend, like this: we have drunk from the same canteen! the same canteen, my soldier friend, the same canteen; there's never a bond like this: we have drunk from the same canteen! it was sometimes water and sometimes milk, sometimes apple-jack as fine as silk; but, whatever the tipple has been, we shared it together in bane or in bliss, and i warn you, friend, when i think of this: we have drunk from the same canteen. we've shared our blankets and tents together, and marched and fought in all kinds of weather, and hungry and full we've been; had days of battle and days of rest, but this memory i cling to and love the best: we've drunk from the same canteen. for when wounded i lay on the outer slope, with my blood flowing fast and but little hope on which my faint spirit might lean, oh! then, i remember, you crawled to my side, and bleeding so fast it seemed both must have died, we have drunk from the same canteen! the star spangled banner. key of c. [illustration] oh! say, can you see by the dawn's early light what so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming-- whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous flight, o'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming! and the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was still there; oh! say, does that star spangled banner yet wave o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! on that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep, where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, what is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, as it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses! now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam, in full glory reflected, now shines on the stream; 'tis the star spangled banner, oh! long may it wave o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! and where is that band who so vauntingly swore that the havoc of war and the battle's confusion a home and a country should leave us no more? their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. no refuge could save the hireling and slave from the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave; and the star spangled banner in triumph doth wave o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. oh! thus be it ever when freemen shall stand between their loved homes and the war's desolation, blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation. then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, and this be our motto--"in god is our trust"-- and the star spangled banner in triumph shall wave o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! [illustration: fourteenth corps.] old shady. key of b. [illustration: shelter tent.] oh, yah! yah! darkies laugh wid me, for the white folks say old shady's free, so don't you see that the jubilee is coming, coming, hail, mighty day! chorus. den away, away, for i can't wait any longer! hooray! hooray! i'm going home. oh! massa got scared, and so did his lady, dis chile breaks for uncle aby, open the gates, out here's old shady a coming, coming, hail, mighty day.--chorus. good-bye, massa jeff; good-bye, miss'r stephens, 'scuse dis nigger for takin' his leavens; 'spect pretty soon you'll hear uncle abram's coming, coming, hail, mighty day.--chorus. good-bye, hard work, wid neber any pay, i's gwine up north where de good folks say dat white wheat bread an' a dollar a day are a coming, coming, hail, mighty day.--chorus. oh! i've got a wife, and i've got a baby, living up yonder in upper canaday; won't dey laugh when dey see old shady coming, coming, hail, mighty day.--chorus. [illustration: seventh corps.] columbia, the gem of the ocean, or red, white, and blue. (used by permission of s. brainard's sons.) key of g. [illustration: maj. gen'l james b. m'pherson.] [illustration: seventeenth corps.] oh! columbia, the gem of the ocean, the home of the brave and the free, the shrine of each patriot's devotion, the world offers homage to thee. thy mandates make heroes assemble, when liberty's form stands in view; thy banners make tyranny tremble when borne by the red, white, and blue. chorus. when borne by the red, white, and blue, when borne by the red, white, and blue, thy banners make tyranny tremble, when borne by the red, white, and blue. when war waged its wide desolation, and threatened the land to deform, the ark then of freedom's foundation, columbia, rode safe through the storm, with her garlands of vict'ry around her, when so proudly she bore her brave crew, with her flag proudly floating before her, the boast of the red, white, and blue.--chorus. that banner, that banner bring hither, tho' rebels and traitors look grim; may the wreaths it has won never wither, nor the stars of its glory grow dim! may the service united ne'er sever, but they to their colors prove true! the army and navy forever, three cheers for the red, white, and blue.--chorus. the army bean. air--"sweet bye and bye." [illustration: eleventh corps.] there's a spot that the soldiers all love, the mess-tent is the place that we mean, and the dish that we like to see there is the old-fashioned, white army bean. chorus. 'tis the bean that we mean, and we'll eat as we ne'er ate before the army bean, nice and clean; we will stick to our beans evermore. now, the bean in its primitive state is a plant we have all often met, and, when cooked in the old army style, it has charms we can never forget. [illustration: fourth corps.] chorus. the german is fond of sauer kraut, the potato is loved by the mick, but the soldiers have long since found out that thro' life to our beans we should stick.--chorus. refrain. air--"tell aunt rhoda." beans for breakfast, beans for dinner, beans for supper, beans! beans!! beans!!! [illustration: d corps.] brave boys are they. (used by permission of s. brainard's sons, owners of the copyright.) key of a flat. [illustration: th corps.] heavily falls the rain, wild are the breezes tonight; but 'neath the roof the hours as they fly are happy, and calm, and bright. gathering round our firesides, tho' it be summer time, we sit and talk of brothers abroad, forgetting the midnight chime. chorus. brave boys are they! gone at their country's call; and yet, and yet we cannot forget that many brave boys must fall. [illustration: minie ball.] under the homestead roof, nestled so cozy and warm, while soldiers sleep with little or naught to shelter them from the storm. resting on grassy couches, pillow'd on hillocks damp, of martial fare how little we know till brothers are in camp.--chorus. thinking no less of them, loving our country the more, we sent them forth to fight for the flag their fathers before them bore. though the great teardrops started, this was our parting trust: "god bless you, boys! we'll welcome you home when rebels are in the dust."--cho. may the bright wings of love guard them wherever they roam; the time has come when brothers must fight and sisters must pray at home. oh! the dread field of battle! soon to be strewn with graves! if brothers fall, then bury them where our banner in triumph waves.--chorus. [illustration: d corps.] battle hymn of the republic. (by mrs. julia ward howe.) air--"john brown." as sung by chaplain c.c. mccabe while a prisoner in libby, after hearing old ben (the colored paper-seller in richmond) cry out, "_great news by the telegraph! great battles at gettysburg! union soldiers gain the day!_" upon hearing such glorious news chaplain mccabe sung this soul-stirring hymn, all the prisoners joining heartily in the chorus, making the old prison walls ring--"glory, glory, hallelujah!" [illustration: sixteenth corps.] mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord; he is tramping out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; he has loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible quick sword; his truth is marching on. chorus.--glory, glory, hallelujah! i have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; they have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps; i have read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps; his day is marching on. chorus.--glory, glory, hallelujah! i have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel, "as ye deal with my contemners, so with my grace shall deal; let the hero born of woman crush the serpent with his heel, since god is marching on." chorus.--glory, glory, hallelujah! 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. chorus.--glory, glory, hallelujah! in the beauties of the lillies 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 die to make men free_, while god is marching on. chorus.--glory, glory, hallelujah! home, sweet home. (by john howard payne.) key of e flat. [illustration] 'mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, be it ever so humble, there's no place like home; a charm from the skies seems to hallow us there, which, seek thro' the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. home, home, sweet, sweet home; there's no place like home oh, there's no place like home. i gaze on the moon as i tread the drear wild, and feel that my mother now thinks of her child as she looks on that moon from our own cottage door thro' the woodbine whose fragrance shall cheer me no more. home, home, sweet, sweet home, etc. an exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain; oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again; the birds, singing gaily, that came at my call; give me them, and that peace of mind, dearer than all. home, home, sweet, sweet home, etc. [illustration] who will care for mother now. key of b flat. [illustration: brig. gen'l jos. a. mower.] why am i so weak and weary? see how faint my heated breath; all around to me seems darkness; tell me, comrades, is this death? ah! how well i know your answer; to my fate i meekly bow, if you'll only tell me truly who will care for mother now? chorus. soon with angels i'll be marching, with bright laurels on my brow; i have for my country fallen; who will care for mother now? who will comfort her in sorrow? who will dry the falling tear, gently smooth her wrinkled forehead? who will whisper words of cheer? even now i think i see her kneeling, praying for me! how can i leave her in anguish? who will care for mother now?--chorus. let this knapsack be my pillow, and my mantle be the sky; hasten, comrades, to the battle! i will like a soldier die. soon with angels i'll be marching, with bright laurels on my brow; i have for my country fallen; who will care for mother now?--chorus. [illustration: th corps.] when this cruel war is over. (used by permission.) key of c. [illustration: maj. gen'l frank p. blair.] dearest love, do you remember! when we last did meet, how you told me that you loved me, kneeling at my feet? oh! how proud you stood before me, in your suit of blue, when you vowed to me and country ever to be true. chorus. weeping, sad and lonely, hopes and fears how vain; when this cruel war is over, praying that we meet again. when the summer breeze is sighing, mournfully along! or when autumn leaves are falling, sadly breathes the song. oft in dreams i see thee lying on the battle plain, lonely, wounded, even dying; calling, but in vain.--chorus. if amid the din of battle nobly you should fall, far away from those who love you, none to hear you call, who would whisper words of comfort, who would soothe your pain? ah! the many cruel fancies ever in my brain.--chorus. but our country called you, darling, angels cheer your way, while our nation's sons are fighting we can only pray. nobly strike for god and liberty, let all nations see how we love our starry banner, emblem of the free.--chorus. [illustration: signal corps.] [illustration: canister.] we are coming, father abraham. (used by permission of s. brainard's sons, owners of the copyright.) [illustration: lincoln.] we are coming, father abraham--three hundred thousand more, from mississippi's winding stream and from new england's shore; we leave our plows and workshops, our wives and children dear, with hearts too full for utterance, with but a silent tear; we dare not look behind us, but steadfastly before-- we are coming, father abraham--three hundred thousand more! if you look across the hill-tops that meet the northern sky, long moving lines of rising dust your vision may descry; and now the wind, an instant, tears the cloud veil aside, and floats aloft our spangled flag in glory and in pride; and bayonets in the sunlight gleam, and bands brave music pour-- we are coming, father abraham--three hundred thousand more! if you look all up our valleys, where the growing harvests shine, you may see our sturdy farmer-boys fast forming into line, and children from their mothers' knees are pulling at the weeds, and learning how to reap and sow, against their country's needs; and a farewell group stands weeping at every cottage door-- we are coming, father abraham--three hundred thousand more! you have called us, and we're coming, by richmond's bloody tide, to lay us down for freedom's sake, our brothers' bones beside. or from foul treason's savage grasp to wrench the murderous blade, and in the face of foreign foes its fragments to parade. six hundred thousand loyal men and true have gone before-- we are coming, father abraham--three hundred thousand more! [illustration] tenting on the old camp ground. (used by permission of s. brainard's sons, owners of the copyright.) key of a. [illustration: th corps.] we're tenting tonight on the old camp ground; give us a song to cheer our weary hearts; a song of home and friends we love so dear. chorus. many are the hearts that are weary tonight, wishing for the war to cease; many are the hearts looking for the right, to see the dawn of peace; tenting tonight, tenting tonight, tenting on the old camp ground. we've been tenting tonight on the old camp ground, thinking of days gone by, of loved ones at home who gave us the hand and the tear that said good-bye.--chorus. we're tired of the war on the old camp ground; many are dead and gone of the brave and true who have left their homes; others been wounded long.--chorus. we've been fighting today on the old camp ground; many are lying near; some are dead and some are dying, many are in tears. chorus. many are the hearts that are weary tonight, wishing for the war to cease; many are the hearts looking for the right, to see the dawn of peace; dying tonight, dying tonight, dying on the old camp ground. [illustration: sibley tent.] john brown's song. (used by permission of s. brainard's sons.) [illustration: tenth corps.] john brown's body lies a mouldering in the grave, john brown's body lies a mouldering in the grave, john brown's body lies a mouldering in the grave, his soul's marching on! chorus. glory hally, hallelujah! glory hally, hallelujah! glory hally, hallelujah! his soul's marching on! he's gone to be a soldier in the army of our lord, he's gone to be a soldier in the army of our lord, he's gone to be a soldier in the army of our lord, his soul's marching on! chorus. glory hally, hallelujah! glory hally, hallelujah! glory hally, hallelujah! his soul's marching on! john brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back, john brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back, john brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back, his soul's marching on! chorus. glory hally, hallelujah! glory hally, hallelujah! glory hally, hallelujah! his soul's marching on! his pet lamps will meet him on the way, his pet lamps will meet him on the way, his pet lamps will meet him on the way, they go marching on! chorus. glory hally, hallelujah! glory hally, hallelujah! glory hally, hallelujah! they go marching on! they will hang jeff davis to a sour apple tree! they will hang jeff davis to a sour apple tree! they will hang jeff davis to a sour apple tree! as they march along! chorus. glory hally, hallelujah! glory hally, hallelujah! glory hally, hallelujah! as they march along! now, three rousing cheers for the union! now, three rousing cheers for the union! now, three rousing cheers for the union! as we are marching on! chorus. glory hally, hallelujah! glory hally, hallelujah! glory hally, hallelujah! hip, hip, hip, hip, hurrah! [illustration: grape.] battle cry of freedom. (used by permission of s. brainard's sons.) key of g flat. [illustration: maj. gen. john a. logan.] yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again, shouting the battle cry of freedom; we'll rally from the hillside, we'll gather from the plain, shouting the battle cry of freedom. chorus. 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. 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.--chorus. we will welcome to our ranks 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.--chorus. 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.--chorus. [illustration: fifteenth corps.] bonnie blue flag. [illustration: ninth corps.] we are a band of patriots, who each leave home and friend our noble constitution and banner to defend; our capitol was threatened, and the cry rose near and far to protect our country's glorious flag that glitters with many a star. chorus. hurrah, hurrah, for the union, boys, hurrah! hurrah for our forefathers' good old flag that glitters with many a star. much patience and forbearance the north has always shown toward her southern brethren, who had each way their own; but when we made our president a man whom we desired their wrath was roused, they mounted guns, and on fort sumter fired.--chorus. they forced the war upon us, for peaceful men are we; they steal our money, seize our forts, and then as cowards flee; false to their vows and to the flag that once protected them, they sought the union to dissolve, earth's noblest, brightest gem.--chorus. we're in the right and will prevail, the stars and stripes must fly, the "bonnie blue flag" be hauled down, and every traitor die; freedom and peace enjoyed by all as ne'er was known before, our spangled banner wave on high, with stars just thirty-four.--chorus. [illustration: brig. gen. isaac f. quinby.] america. key of f. [illustration: fifth corps.] my country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee i sing; land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountain side let freedom ring. my native country, thee, land of the noble, free, thy name i love; i love thy rocks and rills, thy woods and templed hills; my heart with rapture thrills like that above. let music swell the breeze, and ring from all the trees, sweet freedom's song; let mortal tongues awake, let all that breathe partake, let rocks their silence break, the sound prolong. our father's god, to thee, author of liberty, to thee i sing; long may our land be bright with freedom's holy light; protect us by thy might, great god our king. [illustration: gen. peter j. osterhaus.] [illustration: combination knife, fork, and spoon.] kingdom coming. (used by permission of s. brainard's sons, owners of the copyright.) key of c. [illustration: brig. gen. albert l. lee.] say, darkies, hab you seen old massa, wid de muffstash on his face, go long de road some time dis mornin', like he gwine to leave de place? he seen a smoke way up de ribber whar de linkum gunboats lay; he took his hat an' left berry sudden, an' i 'spect he's run'd away! chorus. de massa run, ha, ha! de darky stay! ho, ho! it mus' be now de kingdom comin' an' de year of jubilo! he is six foot one way, four foot tudder, an' he weigh tree hundred pounds; his coat so big he couldn't pay de tailor, an' it wouldn't go half way round; he drill so much dey call him cap'n, an' he get so drefful tanned, i 'spects he'll try an' fool dem yankees for to tink he's contraband.--chorus. de darkies feel so lonesome libbing in de log house on de lawn dey move dar tings to massa's parlor for to keep it while he's gone. dar's wine an' cider in de kitchen, an' de darkies dey'll hab some; i s'pose dey'll all be confiscated when de linkum soldiers come.--cho. de oberseer he make us trubble, an' he dribe us round a spell; we lock him up in de smoke-house cellar, wid de key trown in de well; de whip is lost, de han'cuff broken; but de massa'll habe his pay; he's ole enough, big enough, ought to know better dan to went and run away.--chorus. [illustration: brig. gen. john m'arthur.] the vacant chair. (used by permission of s. brainard's sons.) key of a flat. [illustration: gen. alvin p. hovey.] 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. chorus. 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. 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 through the thickest of the fight, and upheld our country's honor in the strength of manhood's might.--chorus. true, they tell us wreaths of glory evermore 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.--chorus. [illustration: gen. nathan kimball.] nearer, my god, to thee. key of g. [illustration: maj. gen. e.o.c. ord.] nearer, my god, to thee, nearer to thee! e'en though it be a cross that raiseth me! still all my song shall be, nearer my god, to thee, nearer to thee! though, like a wanderer, the sun gone down, darkness be over me, my rest a stone, yet in my dreams i'd be nearer, my god, to thee, nearer to thee! there let the way appear steps unto heaven; all that thou sendest me in mercy given; angels to beckon me nearer, my god, to thee, nearer to thee! then, with my waking thoughts bright with thy praise, out of my stony griefs bethel i'll raise; so by my woes to be nearer, my god, to thee, nearer to thee! [illustration: admiral david d. porter.] [illustration: shrapnel containing musket balls.] tramp, tramp, tramp. (used by permission of s. brainard's sons.) key of b flat. [illustration: brig. gen. eugene a. carr.] in the prison cell i sit, thinking, mother, dear, of you, and our bright and happy home so far away, and the tears they fill my eyes, spite of all that i can do, tho' i try to cheer my comrades and be gay. chorus. tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching; cheer up, comrades, they will come, and beneath the starry flag we shall breathe the air again of the free-land in our own beloved home. [illustration: first corps.] in the battle front we stood when the fiercest charge was made, and they swept us off a hundred men or more; but before we reached their lines they were beaten back dismayed, and we hear the cry of victory o'er and o'er.--chorus. so within the prison cell we are waiting for the day that shall come to open wide the iron door, and the hollow eye grows bright and the poor heart almost gay as we think of seeing friends and home once more.--chorus. [illustration: maj. gen. fred'k steele.] when johnny comes marching home. (used by permission of s. brainard's sons.) key of b flat. [illustration: wilson's cavalry corps.] when johnny comes marching home again, hurrah, hurrah! we'll give him a hearty welcome then, hurrah, hurrah! the men will cheer, the boys will shout, the ladies they will all turn out, and we'll all feel gay when johnny comes marching home. the old church bell will peal with joy, hurrah, hurrah! to welcome our darling boy, hurrah, hurrah! the village lads and lassies say with roses they will strew the way, and we'll all feel gay when johnny comes marching home. get ready for the jubilee, hurrah, hurrah! we'll give the hero three times three, hurrah, hurrah! the laurel wreath is ready now to place upon his loyal brow, and we'll all feel gay when johnny comes marching home. let love and friendship on that day, hurrah, hurrah! their choicest treasures then display, hurrah, hurrah! and let each one perform some part to fill with joy the warrior's heart, and we'll all feel gay when johnny comes marching home. [illustration] [illustration: third corps.] i'se gwine back to dixie. [illustration: th and th corps.] i'se gwine back to dixie, i'se gwine no more to wander, my heart's turned back to dixie, i can't stay here no longer; i've left the old plantation, my home and my relation, my heart's turned back to dixie and i must go. chorus. i'se gwine back to dixie, i'se gwine back to dixie, i'se gwine where the orange blossoms grow, for i hear the children calling, i see their sad tears falling, me heart's turned back to dixie, and i must go. i've hoed in fields of cotton, i've worked upon the river, i used to say if i got off i'd go back there, no never; but time has changed the old man, his head is bending low, his heart's turned back to dixie, and he must go.--chorus. i'se traveling back to dixie, my step is slow and feeble, i pray the lord to help me, and keep me from all evil; and should my strength forsake me, then kind friends come and take me; my heart's turned back to dixie, and i must go.--chorus. [illustration] fraternity. in mustering a recruit, sing after--"they have been so examined and found worthy." air--"auld lang syne." [illustration: maj. gen. manning f. force.] should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind; should auld acquaintance be forgot, and days of auld lang syne? chorus. for auld land syne, my boys, for auld land syne, we'll ne'er forget when first we met, in days of auld lang syne. charity. sing after the words--"but the greatest of these is charity." meek and lowly, pure and holy, chief among the blessed three; turning sadness into gladness, heaven-born art thou charity. pity dwelleth in thy bosom, kindness reigneth o'er thy heart; gentle thoughts alone can sway thee, judgment with thee hath no part. chorus. meek and lowly, pure and holy, chief among the blessed three; turning sadness into gladness, heaven-born art thou, charity. [illustration: cavalry corps, army of the potomac.] loyalty. sing after the words--"the crowning principle of loyalty." air--"america." key of f. [illustration] my country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee i sing; land where our comrades died, land of the pilgrims' pride, from every mountain side let freedom ring. our fathers' god to thee, author of liberty, to thee we sing; long may our land be bright with freedom's holy light; protect us with thy might, great god, our king. ode on presentation of badge. air--"hold the fort." sing while the badge is being pinned on. comrades, take this badge of freedom our grand army gives; let it be the sign of honor every loyal lives. chorus. wear the badge and keep it shining all life's journey through, ever as the glorious emblem of the work we do. then, proud eagle, still soar sunward; flag, your folds swing loose; love shall shield the helpless orphan, fill the widow's cruse.--chorus. greeting ode. sing while the recruit is signing the roll. air--"glory hallelujah." [illustration] warm be the welcome and glad be the cheer greeting our comrades who join with us here-- warm as in days when with never a fear we all went marching on. chorus. glory, glory, hallelujah! glory, glory, hallelujah! glory, glory, hallelujah! we all go marching on. held by fraternity in bonds that are sure, drawn close in charity by ties that are pure, filled with a loyalty that ever shall endure, we still go marching on. chorus.--glory, glory, hallelujah, etc. elbow to elbow we stood through the fight, elbow to elbow we stand here tonight, elbow to elbow till heaven is in sight, we all go marching on. chorus.--glory, glory, hallelujah, etc. [illustration: eighth corps.] closing ode. air--"auld lang syne." shall we forget those far-off days which made us comrades all? shall we forget how swift the feet that ran at duty's call? shall we forget the honored dead that sleep beneath the sod, who gave their lives for liberty, our country, and our god? [illustration: th corps.] books published by o.h. oldroyd tenth st. n.w., washington, d.c. [the house in which lincoln died] the good old songs we used to sing these song books will be sent on receipt of _ten cents_, in coin or stamps. _ c per doz._ or _$ . per _. just the book for camp fires, reunions, or post rooms. the assassination of abraham lincoln, the flight, pursuit, capture, and punishment of the conspirators _with eighty-two halftone illustrations, half of them never before published_ by osborn h. oldroyd editor and compiler "words of lincoln" with an introduction by bvt. maj. gen. t.m. harris member of the commission that tried the conspirators _ mo, cloth, pages, with portrait of lincoln never before published_, _$ . _ a straightforward account of this dreadful tragedy which still stands out in the annals of assassination. it contains much valuable information.--_louisville (ky.) courier journal._ lincoln's murderers.--this is a patiently wrought out narrative of the most tragic event in american history. one merit of the book is its many illustrations, taken from original photographs and drawings.--_boston journal._ story of lincoln's death.--"the assassination of abraham lincoln," by o.h. oldroyd, is a book that will be found to possess a distinct value of its own. the qualifications of the author for a work of this kind are shown to be exceptional.--_chicago (ill.) post._ the historical importance of this volume it would be difficult to estimate. as absorbing as a novel and as accurate as the report of a statistician, it will attract the attention of every class of readers and remain a source of reference to old and young.--_public ledger, phila., pa._ words of lincoln consisting of beautiful extracts from over two hundred different orations, speeches, debates, letters, etc., chronologically arranged, dating from to , making practically a life of lincoln in his own words, together with beautiful tributes by eminent men, giving their opinion of his life and character. an admirable book for school work, giving the scholar an insight to his wise and inspiring sayings, and familiarizing them with the prominent men of our country. handsomely illustrated, bound in best silk cloth, heavy paper, gold stamping, _price $ . ._ sent upon receipt of price. address o.h. oldroyd, publisher tenth street n.w., washington, d.c. agents wanted for sale of above books. [illustration] [illustration] press of judd & detweiler, washington, d.c.