Songs I Sang on an Iowa Farm
by Ida M. Cromwell, Eleanor T. Rogers, Tristram P. Coffin, Samuel P. Bayard
Western Folklore, Vol. 17, No. 4 (Oct., 1958), pp. 229-247+312
Songs I Sang on an Iowa Farm
IDA M. CROMWELL
COLLECTED BY ELEANOR T. RODGERS
EDITED WITH NOTES BY TRISTRAM P. COFFIN AND SAMUEL P. BAYARD
MRS. CROMWELL'S INTRODUCTION
THE SONGS I HAVE RECOLLECTED were used in all the entertainments the young people had in central Iowa over sixty years ago. We had a "Literary Society" and there was always singing in groups and duets by girls. We used to walk to church services held in the schoolhouse. We sang on the way, going and coming. Schoolteachers trained their pupils, so we had what were known as "Exhibitions." The programs were dialogues, recitations, and songs; but as we had to walk several miles-we sang on the way. On Sunday afternoons we would gather, first at one home and then another, and sing. We had no musical instruments to accompany us, but we just sang anyway. I never saw the songs in print. We learned them from different sources. If
some person visited us-a friend or relative from Wisconsin or Illinois-they brought new songs which they sang and we copied them. -IM.C.
EDITORS' INTRODUCTION
THE MODERN COLLECTOR seldom prints everything that his informant sings to him. Usually, in the interests of scholarship, he winnows as he edits, separating the traditional songs that have oral histories from the commerical songs that are close to print. Perhaps this widespread practice has led many of us to underestimate the influence and popularity of nineteenth-century urban
pieces among twentieth-century informants.
Ida Cromwell's recollections of the songs she once learned at social gatherings and in family groups gives without doubt an accurate cross section of what was sung in a typical Iowa farming community two or three generations ago. As such, this manuscript is an important document for sociologists, local historians, and folklorists. True, most of the songs have limited oral traditions.
Some have no oral currency at all. But the collection illustrates a phenomenon that has been common in America during the past century: the flooding and final submersion of a genuine oral tradition by popular sheet music and minstrel pieces. And it illustrates as well the rather brief life that this commercial music had under conditions not unlike those enjoyed for centuries by
the older folk products. Indirectly, the manuscript reveals much about the demise of the Child ballad, the changes that have come into folk singing styles, and even the popularity of hillbilly and tin pan alley matter with the "folk" of today. Here, then, is the material that reflects in folklore what the spread of printing and the rise of mass education reflect in our literary history.
Mrs. Cromwell's songs have been divided into five groups:
I, Songs with Extensive Oral Traditions;
II, War Songs;
III, Humorous Songs;
IV, Parlor Songs and Songs of Sentiment;
and V, "The Lord's Prayer."
The pieces of Group I, all ballads, are published in full with words and music, as are "The Dying Nun," "Kitty Wells," and "Christine Le Roy" in Group IV. Ballads and songs in all other categories, except "Touch Not! Taste Not!," "Alone," and "Forsaken" in Group IV, are presented on a finding-list basis only, with titles, first stanzas, and bibliographical references given.
Group I consists of material that is widely established among the folk singers of America. Though it may at one time have had the sentimental and melodramatic trappings of the other songs in this collection, it has nevertheless been with the folk long enough to get or to begin to get those highly prized qualities of compactness and objectivity.
Group II is matter from the wars of the nineteenth century, and stands in relation to those conflicts as "Don't Sit under the Apple Tree" and "There'll be Bluebirds over the White Cliffs of Dover" do in relation to World War II. Group III involves humor of the sort characteristic in the music halls of a century and more ago. Out of this background rose better-known folk songs, such as the comic "Springfield Mountain" and "Ole Bangum." Group IV, by far the largest group, is representative of material that has fed oral tradition to a degree (for example, "Kitty Wells," "The Dying Nun," and "Christine Le Roy" are well known to
collectors); but this material has not been in oral circulation for many generations and it has gained almost nothing from oral tradition but anonymity. However, the line between a song like "Kitty Wells" and a song like "Young Charlotte" is fine indeed. Group V is, of course, merely a musical paraphrase of the most famous of all prayers.
A bibliography is given on page 247. Bibliographical references are designed to start the scholar on the road to building up a list of versions and variants from other collections. No effort has been made to make these citations complete, although in each case an effort was made to cite collections which contained further references. In a few cases, no parallel texts were located. However an exhaustive search through nineteenth-century sentimental tradition would undoubtedly turn up sources for this unidentified material. T.P.C.
-S.P.B.
SONGS I SANG ON AN IOWA FARM
GROUP I: SONGS WITH EXTENSIVE ORAL TRADITIONS
THE BUTCHER BOY (Laws P-24)
Laws, ABBB, 260, and Belden, 201 f., print extensive notes to this popular story of thwarted love and tragedy. Stout, 37, records it from Iowa. The tune, probably some form of the traditional British setting, is difficult to identify as it appears below.
[mus]
In Jersey City where I did dwell,
Lived a butcher boy I loved so well.
He courted me, stole my heart away,
And now with me he will not stay.
There is an inn in that same town,
Where my lover goes and sits him down.
He takes strange girls upon his knee,
And he tells to them what he once told me.
'Tis a grief to me, and I'll tell you why,
Because she has more gold than I.
But her gold will melt and her silver fly,
And in time of need, she'll be poor as I.
I went upstairs to make my bed,
And nothing to my mother said.
My mother she came up to me,
Saying, "What's the matter, my daughter dear?"
Then my father he came home,
Saying "Where is my daughter gone?"
He went upstairs, and the door he broke,
He found her hanging by a rope.
He took his knife and cut her down,
And on her breast these lines he found:
"O what a silly girl am I,
To hang myself for a butcher boy.
"Go dig my grave both wide and deep,
Place a mark stone at my head and feet.
And on my breast place a turtle dove,
To show the world I died of love."
THE DYING C OWBOY'S LAMENT (Laws B-1)
The only unusual thing about this Anglo-American song is the name of the bar, Tim Sharrow's. See Laws, NAB, 131, and Belden, 396, for discussion and further bibliography. Pound, 26, and Stout, 103, list the song from Nebraska and Iowa. The tune is the common American folk-form of "My Lodging is on the Cold Ground" ("Fair Harvard" and "Believe Me If All These Endearing Young Charms"). It is more frequently found attached to "Mary and Willie," a returning lover ballad.
As I rode down to Tim Sharrow's barroom,
"I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy,"
These words he did say as I slowly passed by;
"Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story,
I am shot through the breast and they say I must die.
"Then beat the drum slowly,
And play the fife lowly,
And play the death march as they carry me along;
Take me to the valley and plant the sod o'er me,
For I'm a young cowboy, and I know I've done wrong.
"'Twas once in my saddle I used to go dashing,
'Twas once in my saddle I used to be gay;
I first took to drinking, and then to card playing,
Got shot through the breast, so I'm dying today.
"Go break the news gently to my gray-haired mother,
And tell the news softly to my sister so dear;
But not a word of my wrongs do you mention,
As they gather around you this sad story to hear.
"But there is one more dear than a sister,
What will she say when she hears I am gone?
Perhaps a more worthy young fellow her love will win,
His affection may win,, for I know I've done wrong.
"Go get me a drink of pure cold water,"
The poor fellow said,
But e'er I returned his soul had departed-
And gone to his Maker,
The poor cowboy was dead.
------------------------------------
YOUNG CHARLOTTE (Laws G-17)
This is a standard version of the widely collected "Young Charlotte" ("Fair Charlotte") ballad. See Laws, NAB, 214-215, and Belden, 313, for a discussion and bibliography for this song, which is in most extensive American collections. Pound, 19, and Stout, 51, list it from Nebraska and Iowa, respectively. The tune used here is reduced to the repetition of a final phrase, so that
positive identification is all but impossible.
[mus]
Young Charlotte lived on a mountainside,
A wild and lonely spot.
There were no dwellings for ten miles wide,
Except her father's cot.
And yet on many a winter night,
Young swains were gathered there;
For her father kept a social board,
And she was very fair.
One New Year's Eve as the sun went down,
Far looked her wistful eye,
Through the frosty windowpane,
As the merry sleighs dashed by.
At the village fifteen miles away,
Was to be a ball that night,
And though the air was piercing cold,
Her heart was warm and light.
"O daughter dear," her mother said,
"This blanket round you fold,
For 'tis a dreadful night abroad,
You will catch your death from cold."
"O nay, O nay," young Charlotte cried,
And she laughed like a gypsy queen,
"To ride in blankets muffled up,
I never would be seen.
"My silken cloak is quite enough,
You know it's lined throughout,
And there is my silken scarf
To twine my head and neck about."
Her bonnet and her gloves were on,
She jumped into the sleigh,
And swift they sped down the mountainside,
And over the hills away.
"Such a dreadful night I never saw,
My reins I scarce can hold."
Charlotte smiled and then replied
"I am exceeding cold."
He cracked his whip, he urged his steeds,
Much faster than before,
And thus five other dreary miles,
In silence were passed o'er.
Spoke Charles, "How fast the freezing ice
Is gathered on my brow."
Charlotte smiled and then replied,
"It's growing warmer now."
Onward still the horses sped,
Nor checked their speed one mite,
And then at last the village lamps,
And the ballroom came in sight.
He called her once, he called her twice,
She answered not a word,
He asked her for her hand again,
But still she never stirred.
He took her hand in his, 'twas cold,
And hard as any stone;
He threw the mantle from her face,
And the cold stars on it shone.
Then quickly to the lighted hall,
Her lifeless form he bore;
Young Charlotte's eyes were closed for aye,
Her voice was heard no more.
CORILLA
(Laws F-i)
See Laws, NAB, 184, and Belden, 324, for a start on the bibliography of this
not unusual text of "The Jealous Lover" ("Florella") ballad. It is known in
Nebraska and Iowa. See Pound, 17, and Stout, 50. The tune is apparently a
form of the same fragment that is used for "Young Charlotte," above.
234 WESTERN FOLKLORE
SONGS I SANG ON AN IOWA FARM
pdoon /m ca val-ley loon,ely /e 4noo fineIcta 6(acos '7te, y 7ere
Loe,oa..rt' , C t icn(n a a , c d si-r Leb ,Ye..
Down in a valley lonely, where none but willows grow,
There lies our own Gorilla in a dark and silent grave;
She dies not brokenhearted, nor of long illness fell,
But in one moment parted from the home she loved so well.
One night when the moon shone brightly around her cottage door,
Then to her cottage window her treacherous lover came;
He said, "Come love, let's wander down through the meadows gay,
Where, undisturbed, we'll ponder upon our wedding day."
Down in a valley lonely, where none but violets bloom,
For none but you, Gorilla, we would have hither strayed;
"Down in the woods I have you; you cannot from me fly,
No mortal hand can save you-Corilla, you must die."
Down on her knees before him, she pleaded for her life,
But into her snow-white bosom, he plunged a deadly knife;
"0 Edward, I'll forgive you," was her last and dying breath,
Soon her heart ceased beating, and her eyes were closed in death.
ON THE BANKS OF OPEEDEE
(Laws F-5)
See Pound's "On the Banks of the Old Pedee" from Wyoming in her American
Songs and Ballads (New York, 1922). Old Pedee songs are of course versions
of the widespread "On the Banks of the Ohio." Laws, NAB, 187-188,
and Randolph, II, 137, give discussion and bibliography. The tune is a worndown
version of the melody normally used for this song.
Onwne i/Pf I arent 2i see /y /lorC,Anr9d' c rW/aWedaict6Z1 - Uw . 6fA sw a
I:41- L.LL '- J. I > r !J. II.
IwaKl,/#mc " ta/ieed o-oeat MI7 4oe/x i%e oar wed-I y oer.
One night I went to see my love,
And we walked a little way.
As we walked, we talked about
When should be our wedding day.
"Only say that you'll be mine,
And our life shall happy be,"
As we strolled along the banks,
Of the beautiful Opeedee.
235
WESTERN FOLKLORE
"No," said she, "that cannot be."
"Then," said he, "your life I'll take."
"Take my life, you take in vain
What you ne'er can give again."
He seized her by her long black hair,
As she fell upon the ground;
And drew her to the river's bank,
There to see his darling drown.
CHARLESG uIrrO
(Laws E-1 1)
This common song is given here in fragmentary form. Laws, NAB, 176, and
Belden, 412, give extensive references, as do most American collections.
Pound, 20, lists it from Nebraska; Stout, 0o, from Iowa. The tune is a common
one, often found with "The Lake of Pontchartrain," and can be compared
with the tune to "Betrayed" below and to "Polly Wolly Doodle." Professor
Bayard heard a ballad in Ukranian sung to it in Williamsport, Pennsylvania,
during the 1930's. The singer had learned the music and text in his
native village in eastern Poland many years before.
SlrA
i
y MatA eld JIfn
Wd
ha - -n r
doo
My nfame3 Cfar/esG (k-Sa /Yyeaflner?Ac rde-nyi T (pe mcyc -a,-
p r p Ir^ m _-^+r^j I-P i
r^restsnMamy eso isC harles Guitto, eyinR /
iro? mfM7/yt name- f aI'll n denom.,
My name is Charles Guitto,
My name I'll never deny,
I leave my aged parents,
In sorrow for to die.
And little did they think I,
While in my youth did bloom,
Would be taken to the scaffold,
To meet my fatal doom.
The judge he read my sentence,
The clerk he wrote it down,
And on the thirtieth of July,
I'll meet my fatal doom.
And there upon a scaffold,
Upon a scaffold high,
For the murder of James A. Garfield,
I know that I must die.
GROUP II: WAR SONGS
THE LAST CHARGE
(Laws A-17)
This song is printed in Belden, 383-387, in much the same form that it
appears here. Both Belden and Laws, NAB, 127, give bibliography and notes.
Pound, 39, found it in Nebraska. The tune, like the one for "Young Charlotte,"
is hard to identify as it has been worn down to the repetition of a
phrase. 'Twas just before the last fierce charge,
Two soldiers drew their reins;
With touch of hand and parting word,
They ne'er might meet again.
(first stanza only)
A PARDONT HATC AMET OOL ATE
This song, probably written by Paul Dresser, is listed by Pound, 39, from
Nebraska and can also be found in Randolph, IV, 171. The tune is not distinctive
enough to identify and resembles many common strains.
A fair-haired boy in a prison cell
At sunrise was to die;
In his lonely cell he sat alone,
From his heart there came a sigh.
Deserted from the ranks they said,
The reason none could say,
They only knew the orders were,
That he should die next day.
(first stanza only)
MY SWEETHEART WENT DOWN WITH THE MAINE
See Randolph, IV, 139, for another text of this song collected from oral tradition.
The tune, like the one to "A Pardon that Came too Late," is not distinctive
enough to be identified.
Out on the high seas he sailed,
Under the red, white and blue;
Faithful to country and home,
Faithful to captain and crew.
(first stanza only)
GROUP III: HUMOROUS SONGS
No SIR!
This song is given, with bibliography, in Randolph, III, 1-4. See also Pound,
43, who lists it from Nebraska. It is a stage song, apparently inspired by "Oh
237
No John." The tune is not a folk melody, nor is it associated with traditional
forms used with the older English folk song.
My father was a Spanish merchant,
And, before he went to sea,
He told me to be sure and answer,
"No!" to all you said to me.
(first stanza only)
MISS FOGARTY'S CHRISTMAS CAKE
(Tune: same as "Theater Fire" below.)
A more complete, but quite similar, text of this song is given by Morris, 439.
Randolph, III, 245, also prints a version entitled "The Biscuits Mis' Flanagan
Made.~"M ade." ~ I sat by my window one evening,
And the letter a man brought to me
Was a little gilt-edged invitation
Saying, "Gilhooley come over to tea."
(first stanza only)
OVER THE GARDEN WALL
This song was a music hall hit of the 'nineties. Randolph, IV, 392, includes a
chorus from oral tradition and a brief discussion. Pound, 58, lists it from
Nebraska. The tune has been adapted from the familiar Germany melody,
"Ich bin der Doktor Eisenbart."
My love stood under the walnut tree,
Over the garden wall,
Many a time I've kissed her there,
Over the garden wall.
(first stanza only)
GROUP IV: PARLOR SONGS AND SONGS OF SENTIMENT
TEMPERANCE
TOUCH NOT! TASTE NOT!
(Tune: "Maryland, My Maryland")
Ray Browne of the University of Maryland says a song strikingly similar to
this one appears in The Prohibition Melodist, 68, attributed there to Rev.
John 0. Foster, A.M. In such forms the song is three stanzas, with a "Touch
not, taste not, handle not" chorus.
Strong drink is raging. God hath said,
Touch notI taste notl handle notl
And thousands it hath captive led,
Touch notl taste notl handle notl
It robs thy pocket of its cash,
Touch notl etc.
238 WESTERN FOLKLORE
SONGS I SANG ON AN IOWA FARM 239
And all thy hopes of pleasures dash,
Touch notI etc.
'Twill scourge thee with a cruel lash,
Touch notI etc.
ALONE
This text is a standard stanza from the temperance song "Don't Go Out
Tonight, My Darling," which is printed in Brown, III, 5 , and Randolph, II,
434. The tune is a fragment of a melody that equally resembles "What a
Friend We Have in Jesus" and "Way Down Upon the Swanee River." However,
the reader should consult the notes to "Kitty Wells," below, as the tune
may well relate to this melody also.
Don't go out tonight, my darling,
Do not leave me here alone.
Stay at home tonight, my darling,
For I'm lonely when you're gone.
Oh, My God, he's gone and left me,
With a curse upon his lips.
Who can tell how much I suffer,
From the cursed cup he sips.
DEATH
THE DYING NUN
Belden, 218, gives a text of this song without discussion. Pound, 21, lists it
from Nebraska. The tune is a common air, normally associated with this piece
and probably originally a hymn melody.
Let i-ht r. 6o n -,.-. oon me., let- e e.e 6e m'- 7h-
Let thea ir blow in upon m lete m, e see the midnight sky,
LSteatn tdh eb aacirk b lsoiwste inrfs ru opmo nar mouen, lde tm me.e seiet tihs es mhiadrndio gt oh td sike,y ,
Stand back sisters from around me. 0 it is so hard to die,
Lift my pillow up dear Martha; Sister Martha you are kind.
Come and stand alone beside me, ere I leave you all behind.
Take my hand so cold and frozen; once it was so small and white,
And the ring that falls down from it, clasp my finger round so tight.
Little ring they thought so worthless, that they let me keep it there,
Only a plain golden circlet, and a lock of Douglas' hair.
Read his letters to me, Sister, then place them close to my heart,
But the little ring he gave me, never from my finger part.
Douglas, Douglas, I am coming. Yes, and soon I will be there,
Oh, I hear the angels calling; Death will bring you back your Claire.
I was thinking of some music that I heard long, long ago.
Oh, how sweet the nuns are singing in the chapel, soft and low.
Oh, my father and my mother, will you not forgive the past?
When a stranger comes and tells you, that your stray lamb died at last?
Sister Martha, Sister Martha, you are kinder than the rest,
Take my hand and hold it gently, while I lean upon your breast.
Sister Martha, Sister Martha, has the moon gone down so soon?
Oh, this cell is cold as winter, though I know it is but June.
And of all who used to love me, who will love me when I'm dead?
Only you, O Sister Martha, keep the last watch by my bed.
Sisters on your white beds lying, sleeping in the pale moonlight,
Through your dreams come no message. Clara dies alone tonight.
THE BLIND GIRL
See Belden, 276, for a similar text and bibliography. Stout, 79, found the song
in Iowa. The tune is not distinctive enough to be positively identified.
They say tonight, dear Father,
That you'll wed another bride;
That you will clasp her in your arms,
Where my dear Mother died.
(first stanza only)
PUT MY LITrLE SHOES AWAY
(Tune: same as "The Dying Nun")
See Randolph, IV, 178, for similar texts and a few references.
Mother, come and bathe my forehead,
I am growing very weak;
Let one drop of cold water,
Fall upon my burning cheek
(first stanza only)
THEATER FIRE
The tune of this song is similar to that used for "Young Charlotte" above.
The text could not be identified by the editors. It may refer to a local tragedy.
The doors were open at seven,
The curtain rolled up at eight;
Those who got seats they were happy,
But angry was those who were late.
(first stanza only)
240 WESTERN FOLKLORE
SONGS I SANG ON AN IOWA FARM 241
TRAGIC LOVE AND BETRAYAL
KITTY WELLS
Cox, 395, and Brewster, 357, give adequate references and notes to this popular
broadside and songster ballad. Pound, 65, and Stout, 81, list it from
Nebraska and Iowa. The tune used here is not the one the song is normally
sung to. This tune is related to "Massa's in the Cold, Cold Ground" and to
the melodies used with "Alone" and "Christine Le Roy" in this collection.
4 j 8 -. - J?~ , I ^-~ . - .
=; ^ ri^j5 ~I _f^I^? r 5_\
Yoec OJ-- ~Wh&7aKes 66hs 4'cw,Kq Wy he, /lik otfers is nog-
4iWhmata e5s t/ie tearsf /od o/n w h/s cce, rn W
ne dnC3, J tI morrnom er o illrc lse day
/Y ^-5tyo -ry, dat-ies, youes ha// hc7 /% /i7 n mema-r y f/e--s?tr
cdwelsJ '7Twil case youc arC ti drop a 0 hffe <rwe ? lS ydor ted-ay
CHorue,
6T m% yirdt/sa vre th,ey-Xrimy i? m7orn-7-, -7e Inyr-f/e n,dtfc i-y were
im
U. "^ 1 It^"; C^ IC J nI; H Ln
6/oor e -wv zf e &et?Ce- fz' 6 s 0 a-dortny 5zf
0a
Ied# 7crrsi aa '
t h ,e Cfomi.
You ask what makes this darkey weep,
Why he, like others is not gay,
What makes the tears flow down his cheek,
From early morn till close of day?
My story, darkies, you shall hear,
As in my mem'ry pleasure dwells,
'Twill cause you all to drop a tear,
On the grave of my dear Kitty Wells.
The birds were singing in the morning,
The myrtle and the ivy were in bloom,
The sun the treetops was adorning,
That was when we laid her in the tomb.
I shall never forget the day,
When together we roamed the dells;
I remember well I kissed her cheek,
And named the day I'd marry Kitty Wells.
But Death came to my cabin door,
And took from me my joy and bride.
When I found she was no more,
I laid my banjo down and cried.
The Springtime has no charm for me,
Though the flowers are blooming in the dells;
I cannot see the lovely form,
The form of my sweet Kitty Wells.
I often wish that I was dead,
And laid beside her in the tomb;
For the sorrow that bows down my head,
Is like the deepest midnight gloom.
BETRAYED
The tune is a mazurka and song of German origin. See Jackson, 329, and his
note to No. 24. The text was not identified.
We met in a crowd,
I thought he would shun me,
He came. I dared not look,
For his eyes were upon me.
(first stanza only)
FORSAKEN
The tune is a version of the "Lord Randal" tune, in a set showing the common
Anglo-Irish feature of the second or B strain's ending on the fourth of the
scale. Otherwise, it is not too far removed from the "Polar Bear"-"Sweet
Betsy from Pike" sets. The text was not identified.
Forsaken, forsaken, forsaken am I,
Like a stone in deep water,
My cherished hopes lie;
I go to the churchyard,
My eyes fill with tears,
For there my love sleepeth,
I'm forsaken indeed.
CHRISTINE LE ROY
Randolph, IV, 314, and Pound, 38, list this ballad which is encountered from
time to time by American collectors. The tune seems to be similar to the
settings for "Alone" and "Kitty Wells" in this collection.
242 WESTERN FOLKLO.RE
SONGS I SANG ON AN IOWA FARM 243
/Io, ./reoF--teerr, ,l'( ne#- er iC f.t s cisc Utesisn e-irnye.
L4 j . 14L Ut u LJ iL - LLj
soj 7s ?c-i7 ofne- a y w,t 07 - 4y s Wr eaI-/ aca c ^
an-Je fsen.o wh.
No, Brother, I'll never be better,
It is useless in telling me so;
This aching heart only is waiting,
For a resting place under the snow.
I have only been dreaming, dear Brother,
How happy our home was with joy;
Till a serpent crept into our Eden,
In the fair face of Christine Le Roy.
She came with the face of an angel,
To greet me a lifetime of joy;
But my heart shrank with fear of that demon,
In the fair face of Christine Le Roy.
The jewels gleamed bright in her tresses,
And over her snowy white brow;
And sparkled like dew in the sunlight,
On her fingers as white as the snow.
When she placed her soft hand in my husband's
I knew he thought me but a toy;
By the side of that radiant beauty,
The beautiful Christine Le Roy.
But one year passed away and my Harry
Grew colder and colder each day;
Then I knew that the wiles of that demon,
Had so carelessly led him astray.
Till at last one bright evening I found them,
It seemed my heart's life to destroy;
Hand in hand with her head on his shoulder,
Sat Harry and Christine Le Roy.
So brother be kind to your darling,
My heart has grown sickened and faint;
When I think of the wiles of that demon,
In the beautiful face of a saint.
When I sleep 'neath the snowdrifts of winter,
Where no heartache nor pain can destroy;
You may tell them they've murdered. O Harry,
God forgive you and Christine Le Roy.
WESTERN FOLKLORE
Two LOVES
The editors were not able to identify this sentimental song, nor is the tune
distinctive enough to place.
The woman he worshipped only smiled,
When he told her his passionate love;
But the other somewhere
Kissed her treasure most rare-
A book he had touched with his glove.
(first stanza only)
WINDOW IN A COTtAGE BY THE SEA
(Tune: same as "The Dying Nun")
Randolph, IV, 16o, gives similar texts and a brief bibliography.
Just one year ago today, love,
I became your happy bride,
Changed a mansion for a cottage,
To dwell by the ocean's side;
Then you told me how you loved me,
And how happy we would be,
But tonight I am a widow,
In a cottage by the sea.
(first stanza only)
THE GYPSY's WARNING
This song and the reply have been widely found in the United States.
Brewster, 273, and Cox, 439, give adequate discussion and texts of both songs.
Pound, 43, lists "The Gypsy's Warning" from Nebraska; Stout gives both the
warning and answer from Iowa. The tune is one commonly used with the
songs. Do not trust him, gentle lady,
Though his voice be low and sweet,
Heed him not who kneels before thee,
Softly pleading at thy feet.
Now thy life is in its morning,
Cloud not this, thy happy lot,
Listen to the gypsy's warning,
Gentle lady, trust him not.
(first stanza only)
ANSWER TO GYPSY'S WARNING
Lady, heed thee not her warning.
Trust me, thou shalt find me true,
Constant as the light of morning
244
SONGS I SANG ON AN IOWA FARM
I will ever be to you.
Lady, I would not deceive you,
Fill thy guileless heart with love,
Trust me, Lady, and believe me,
Sorrow thou shalt never know.
(first stanza only)
BLAME YOURSELF IF YOU'RE SOLD
Neither the text nor the tune of this song was satisfactorily identified. The
tune is not distinctive enough to place.
This world of our is a very queer place, and people all find it so,
For you never can tell what the day may bring forth,
And the future no man can know.
The many mistakes of a comical kind committed by young and old,
Is the fault of him who gets in a scrape,
So blame yourself if you're sold.
(first stanza only)
NOSTALGIA
WHITE WINGS
See Randolph, IV, 295, for a similar text and brief discussion. The tune is not
distinctive enough for positive identification.
White wings they never grow weary,
They carry me cheerily over the sea.
Night comes and I long for my deary;
I'll spread out my white wings,
And sail home to thee.
(first stanza only)
WHEN WE PARTED
The editors were unable to identify either the text or the tune of this song.
The tune is not distinctive enough to place.
We parted in silence, we parted at night,
On the banks of that lonely river,
Where the fragrant limes their boughs unite,
We met, and we parted forever.
(first stanza only)
THE BELLS
There are many "bells" songs in nineteenth-century sentimental tradition,
but the editors did not locate a parallel to this one. The tune, however, is a
245
fragment of the hymn "0 Happy Day that Fixed My Choice on Thee, My
Saviour and My God."
Those evening bells,
Those evening bells,
How many a tale
Their music tells.
(first stanza only)
COURTING
SPARKING SUNDAY NIGHT
Spaeth, 95, prints a complete version of this song. Randolph, III, 92 and 228,
gives two songs of the same title from oral tradition in Missouri. Both of these
texts show similarities to Mrs. Cromwell's lyric, but they are not similar
enough to warrant calling them variants. See Randolph also for references to
other nineteenth-century songs on the same theme. The tune is not distinctive
enough to identify.
Sitting in a corner on a Sunday Eve,
With a tapered finger resting on your sleeve,
Twilight... are casting and on her face they light,
Bless me it is pleasant, sparking Sunday night.
(first stanza only)
OVER THE BANNISTER
The editors did not identify this text. However, the tune is another setting
of the one used for "Charles Guitto," above.
Over the bannister leans a face,
Tenderly sweet and beguiling,
Gazing into the one below,
Over the bannister smiling.
(first stanza only)
GROUP V: "THE LORD'S PRAYER"
(Tune: "Home, Sweet Home")
The practice of singing "The Lord's Prayer" to familiar tunes was not unusual
in the nineteenth century.
Our Father in Heaven, we hallow Thy Name,
May Thy Kingdom so holy
On earth be the same.
Give to us daily our portion of bread,
It is from Thy bounty that all must be fed.
246 WESTERN FOLKLORE
SONGS I SANG ON AN IOWA FARM
Forgiveo ur transgressionas nd teach us to know
The humble compassion
That pardons each foe.
Keep us from temptation, from weakness and sin,
And Thine be the glory, forever. Amen.
BIBLIOGRAPHY OF BOOKS CITED IN THE NOTES
BELDEN: Belden, H. M. Ballads and Songs Collected by the Miissouri Folk-Lore Society (The
University of Missouri Studies, XV, No. i, Columbia, Mo., 1940).
BREWSTER: Brewster, Paul G. Ballads and Songs of Indiana (Indiana University Publications,
Folklore Series No. i, Bloomington, Indiana, 1940).
BROWN: White, Newman I. (General Editor). The Frank C. Brown Collection of North
Carolina Folklore, Vols. II, III (Durham, 1952).
Cox: Cox, J. Harrington. Folk-Songs of the South (Cambridge, Mass., 1925).
JACKSON: Jackson, George P. White and Negro Spirituals (New York, 1943).
LAWS ABBB: Laws, G. Malcolm, Jr. American Balladry from British Broadsides (American Folklore
Society, Biliographical Series, VIII, Philadelphia, 1950).
LAWS NAB: Laws, G. Malcolm, Jr. Native American Balladry (American Folklore Society,
Biliographical Series, I, Philadelphia, 1950).
MORRIS: Morris, Alton C. Folk Songs of Florida (Gainesville, Fla., 1950).
POUND: Pound, Louise. Folk-Song of Nebraska and the Central West, A Syllabus (Nebraska
Academy of Science Publications, IX, No. 3, Lincoln, 1915).
RANDOLPH: Randolph, Vance. Ozark Folksongs, Vols. II, III, IV (Columbia, Mo., 1948-1950).
SPAETH: Spaeth, Sigmund. Weep Some More, My Lady (New York, 1927).
STOUT: Stout, Earl J. Folklore from Iowa (Memoirs of the American Folklore Society, XXIX,
New York, 1936).
CHICAGOF OLK-LORESO CIETYP RIZE
Books, monographs, dissertations, theses, articles, and manuscripts entered
in competition for the Chicago Folk-Lore Society Prize for 1959
must be submitted before April 15 to the Chairman, Department of Germanic
Languages, University of Chicago, Chicago 37, it has been announced
by Professor George J. Metcalf of the Chicago school. Published
materials must have appeared in print within the year prior to the date
of submission, and winning contestants must agree to furnish the University
of Chicago Library with a copy of the work. Postage must also
be supplied by contestants for the return of their contributions. The
term "folklore" is construed in the broadest sense, and contributions
are not limited to the Americas. The prize, established by a fund provided
by the old Chicago Folk-Lore Society in 1904, amounts to about
$50.00 annually.
247
312
E492 Mass (church service) of the dead, 126
E742.2 Soul as will-o'-the-wisp, 128
E752.2 Soul carried off by demon (Devil), 29 No.
1; 30 No. 2
E761 Life token, 285
F211.0.1 Prehistoric burial mounds as dwellings
of fairies, 282
F361.12 Fairies take revenge on mortals who
destroy their homes, 282
F402 ff. Evil spirits, 214
F407.2 Spirit fades into air, 33 No. 6 (see 197)
F473 Poltergeist, 62, 211-212
F473.1 Poltergeist throws objects, 62
F473.2 Poltergeist causes objects to behave contrary
to their nature, 62, 211-212
F491 Will-o'-the-Wisp, 128
F491.1 Will-o'-the-Wisp leads people astray, 128
F515.2.2 Person with very long fingernails, 55
F521.1.1 Woman with animal hair, 55
F953 Cripple marvelously cured, 285
G11.3 Cannibal witch, 214
G71 Unnatural children eat parent, 213-214
G241.1.3 Witch rides on dog, 214
G262 Murderous witch, 213-214
G263 Witch injures, enchants, or transforms,
131, 214
G272.16 Salt protects against witches, 279 No.
52
G303.3.1.2 The devil as a well-dressed gentleman,
32 No. 6 (see 197)
G303.3.3.1.1 Devil in form of dog, 29 No. 1 (see
196)
G303.3.3.3.3 Devil in form of black bird, 30 No.
2 (see 196)
G303.4.1.2.2 Devil with glowing eyes, 129
G303.4.1.6 Devil has horns, 129
G303.4.5.3.1 Devil detected by his hoofs. While
playing cards the devil drops a card on the
floor and his partners notice his monstrous
feet, 30 No. 4
G303.4.5.4 The devil has goat [cow's] feet, 129,
131
G303.4.6 The devil's tail, 129, 131
G303.6.1.1 Devil appears at midnight, 30 No. 4;
32 No. 6 (see 197)
G303.6.1.5 Devil appears when cards are played,
30 No. 4
WESTERN FOLKLORE
G303.6.2.8 Devil appears to dying man, 29 No.
1 (see 196)
G303.9.4 The devil as tempter, 129
G303.16.18 One must not whistle after sunset,
else the devil will go along with one, 32 No.
6 (see 197)
G303.16.19.4 Devil (Satan) flees when cock is
made to crow, 126 No. 70
M211 Man sells soul to devil, 30 No. 3 (see 196)
M369.2.1 Future husband (wife) foretold, 31 No.
5
M414.11 Man who betrays secret cursed, ioo, 102
M431.10 Curse: to be plagued by nightmares,
129
N127.0.1 Different kinds of luck attending persons
born on the several days of the week, 125
No. 33
N127.1 Tuesday as auspicious day, 125 Nos. 33,
34
N127.3 Thursday as lucky day, 125 Nos. 33, 34
N131.3 Spilling salt brings bad luck, 210; 278
No. 31; cf. 125 No. 56
N135.1 Thirteen as unlucky number, 284
N514 Treasure hidden in religious shrine, ioo-
102
N532 Light indicates hidden treasure, 1oo
N541.1 Treasure reveals itself only on Christmas
at midnight (or Christmas Eve), cf. 31 No. 5
N543 Certain person to find treasure, 277 No. 1
N576 Ghosts prevent men from raising treasure,
100
N591 Curse on treasure. Finder or owner to have
bad luck, ioo
P312 Blood-brotherhood, 283
Q211.5 Suicide punished, 126 No. 64
Q273.2 Usurer refused burial, 30 No. 2
Q415.3 Punishment: man eaten by worms, 30
No. 3
Q491.1 Disgraceful burial as punishment, 30 No.
3; 126 No. 64
S131 Murder by drowning, 64
T11.3 Love through dream. Falling in love with
a person seen in a dream, 32 No. 5
T22.3 Predestined husband, 31-32 No. 5
T582 Precautions at childbirth, 124 No. 20
V62.1 Funeral rites forbidden, 126 No. 64
Z71.0.1 Odd numbers-formulistic, 283
Z140 Color symbolism, 125 No. 54
CORRECTION
The name of the collector of "Songs I Sang on an Iowa Farm" in this
issue of Western Folklore is incorrectly spelled. The songs were collected
by Eleanor T. Rodgers (not Rogers, as printed).