Little Lady Gay- Riddle (AR) 1959 Wolf/Hunter
[My title. From The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection; Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas. Recorded by John Quincy Wolf, Jr. Also Max Hunter Colection (see bottom of this page).
R. Matteson 2015]
LITTLE LADY GAY
Sung by: Almeda Riddle
Recorded in Miller, AR 8/21/59
(Listen to the original recording)
There was a little lady gay,
A little lady gay,
And children she had three.
She sent them off to the north summery
For to learn their grammery.
They hadn't been gone but about three weeks
When death, death come over the land,
And swept away those three little babes;
Will their mother understand?
And what do you reckon that mother will say
When she does hear the news?
She'll cry aloud, and wring her hands:
"Oh, where is my three little babes?"
Christmastime was drawing near,
And the wind blew loud and cold.
Those three little ones come flying down
All into their mother's room.
The table was set and a cloth spread on,
'Twas set with bread and wine.
"Come, eat and drink, my three little babes,
Come, eat and drink as mine."
"We cannot eat your bread, dear Mother.
We cannot drink your wine.
For yonder stands our own dear savior,
Waiting for our return."
The bed was fixed in the finest room,
And a golden sheet spread on.
"Lie there, lie there, my three little babes,
'Til in the morning soon."
"We cannot sleep in your bed, dear Mother,
'Til in the morning soon,
For yonder stands our own dear savior,
Jut waiting for our return."
Then the oldest said to the youngest one,
"It'll soon be time we're gone,
For there he stands with his outstretched hands--
He's waiting for our return."
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Little Lady Gay- Max Hunter Cat. #0585 (MFH #672) - As sung by Almeda Riddle, Heber Springs, Arkansas on October 23, 1965
VERSE 1
There was this lettle Lady Gay
An' children she had three
Sent them off to the North Count-try
For t' learn their grammer-ree
VERSE 2
Now, they'd been gone for about two weeks
I'm sure it was not three
When death, sweet death swept over the land
And took those babes away
VERSE 3
An' what do you reckon that Mother will say
When she does hear the news
She'll cry aloud and wring 'er hands,
Where are my three little babes
VERSE 4
T'was Christmas time, O the nights were cold
Th wind blew loud and cold
Those three little babes came flying down
All into their Mothers room
VERSE 5
Now, her table was spread in the finest room
An' the finest cloth spread on
Sit there, sit there, my three little babes
Portake of bread and wine
VERSE 6
We cannot eat your bread, dear Mother
We cannot drink your wine
For yonder stands our own dear Sav-iur
Waiting for our return
VERSE 7
The bed was made in the finest room
An' the finest sheets spread on
Lie there, lie there, my three little babes
Till in the morning soon
VERSE 8
We cannot sleep in your bed, dear Mother
Till in the morning soon
For yonder stands our own dear Sav-iur
Waiting for our return
VERSE 9
Then the elder said to the younger one,
T'will soon be time we're gone
For there He stands with 'is out stretched hands
He's waiting for our return
VERSE 10
O, why do you grieve, our, Mother dear
Why do you, so weep
The tears you shed over our grave
Hath wet our winding sheet
VERSE 11
Then they spread their wings an' away they flew
All in the morning soon
An' what do you think that Mother will say
When she wakes an' finds them gone