Then with delight they took their flight,And wing’d their way to glory,The shepherds gazed and were amazed,To hear the pleasing story;To Bethlehem they quickly came,The glorious news to carry,And in the stall they found them all,Joseph, the Babe, and Mary.
Then with delight they took their flight,
And wing’d their way to glory,
The shepherds gazed and were amazed,
To hear the pleasing story;
To Bethlehem they quickly came,
The glorious news to carry,
And in the stall they found them all,
Joseph, the Babe, and Mary.
The shepherds then return’d again,To their own habitation,With joy of heart they did depart,Now they have found salvation.Glory, they cry, to God on high,Who sent his son to save us,This glorious morn the Savior’s born,His name it is Christ Jesus.
The shepherds then return’d again,
To their own habitation,
With joy of heart they did depart,
Now they have found salvation.
Glory, they cry, to God on high,
Who sent his son to save us,
This glorious morn the Savior’s born,
His name it is Christ Jesus.
The tune, evidently dorian, is of a type that was widely used and varied by folk singers. I mentioned this type in the Introduction,page 14, and called it the ‘Babe of Bethlehem’ family of tunes because the above seems to have been one of its best members. Other members, in either the dorian or the aeolian mode, are ‘Happy Souls (A)’, ‘Marion’, ‘Atonement’, and ‘Enquirer’ in this collection; related spiritual tunes not included here are ‘Help me to Sing’, OSH 376; ‘Staunton’, SKH 26; ‘Melody’, PB 313; ‘Brownson’, OL 259; ‘Howland’, REV 73; and ‘Sweet Prospect’, OSH 65.
Related worldly songs are ‘The Peevish Child’, Petrie, No. 591; a song without title, Petrie, No. 193; ‘When First I Left Old Ireland’, Petrie, No. 863; ‘Lowlands of Holland’, Sharp, i., 200; ‘Virginian Lover’, Sharp, ii., 149; and ‘The Little Red Lark of the Mountain’, Petrie, No. 383. John Powell has set ‘Babe of Bethlehem’ in a beautiful dorian-mixolydian form for mixed chorus. It is published by J. Fischer and Brother, New York.
Benjamin Franklin White, and Thurza Golightly White, of Hamilton, Georgia.White was a life-long singing school master and folk-song collector who little dreamed of the immeasurable value his labors were to become to singers and folklorists of posterity. His compendium of tunes, wedded to spiritual texts and provided with simple harmonies, bore the name,The Sacred Harp.
Benjamin Franklin White, and Thurza Golightly White, of Hamilton, Georgia.White was a life-long singing school master and folk-song collector who little dreamed of the immeasurable value his labors were to become to singers and folklorists of posterity. His compendium of tunes, wedded to spiritual texts and provided with simple harmonies, bore the name,The Sacred Harp.
In the shade of spreading magnolias and beneaththis memorial erected by kinspeople and devotedSacred Harpsingers in the Oakland Cemetery in Atlanta, the revered master of singing rests besides his wife.
In the shade of spreading magnolias and beneaththis memorial erected by kinspeople and devotedSacred Harpsingers in the Oakland Cemetery in Atlanta, the revered master of singing rests besides his wife.
THE SACRED HARPappeared in 1844.Its most recent edition came out in 1936. It was the source of sixty-seven songs in the present collection.
THE SACRED HARPappeared in 1844.Its most recent edition came out in 1936. It was the source of sixty-seven songs in the present collection.
Heptatonic aeolian, mode 2 A + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7)
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Dismiss us with thy blessing, Lord,Help us to feed upon thy word.All that has been amiss forgive,And let thy truth within us live.All that has been amiss forgive,And let thy truth within us live.
Dismiss us with thy blessing, Lord,
Help us to feed upon thy word.
All that has been amiss forgive,
And let thy truth within us live.
All that has been amiss forgive,
And let thy truth within us live.
Tho’ we are guilty, thou art good,Wash all our works in Jesus’ blood;Give every fetter’d soul releaseAnd bid us all depart in peace.Give every fetter’d soul releaseAnd bid us all depart in peace.
Tho’ we are guilty, thou art good,
Wash all our works in Jesus’ blood;
Give every fetter’d soul release
And bid us all depart in peace.
Give every fetter’d soul release
And bid us all depart in peace.
The text is credited to Joseph Hart, tune to Munday, in theOriginal Sacred Harp. Melodic relationship is to be seen between this and ‘Ye Mariners of England’. See Dolph,Sound Off, p. 228.
Pentatonic, mode 3 (I II III — V VI —)
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From whence doth this union arise,That hatred is conquer’d by love?It fastens our souls in such tiesThat nature and time can’t remove.It cannot in Eden be foundNor yet in a paradise lost;It grows on Immanuel’s ground,And Jesus’ dear blood it did cost.
From whence doth this union arise,
That hatred is conquer’d by love?
It fastens our souls in such ties
That nature and time can’t remove.
It cannot in Eden be found
Nor yet in a paradise lost;
It grows on Immanuel’s ground,
And Jesus’ dear blood it did cost.
My friends are so precious to me,Our hearts all united in love;Where Jesus is gone we shall be,In yonder blest mansions above.O! why then so loath for to part,Since we shall ere long meet again,Engraved on Immanuel’s heart,At distance we cannot remain.
My friends are so precious to me,
Our hearts all united in love;
Where Jesus is gone we shall be,
In yonder blest mansions above.
O! why then so loath for to part,
Since we shall ere long meet again,
Engraved on Immanuel’s heart,
At distance we cannot remain.
And when we shall see that bright day,And join with the angels above,Leaving these vile bodies of clay,United with Jesus in love.With Jesus we ever shall reign,And all his bright glories shall see,Singing hallelujah, Amen,Amen, even so let it be.
And when we shall see that bright day,
And join with the angels above,
Leaving these vile bodies of clay,
United with Jesus in love.
With Jesus we ever shall reign,
And all his bright glories shall see,
Singing hallelujah, Amen,
Amen, even so let it be.
This is probably a homespun text. Its tune is called a “popular old melody.” I find it almost identical with a ‘Kilrush Air’ in Petrie, No. 167, and with a close variant of the latter, Petrie, No. 283. Other related tunes are ‘Tweed Side’, SMM, p. 9; ‘Inkle and Yarico’,The English Repository, p. 226; ‘O I’m So Happy’, ‘Faithful Soldier’, and ‘Sawyer’s Exit’ in this collection.
Heptatonic aeolian, mode 2 A + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7)
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Our cheerful voices let us raiseAnd sing a parting song;Although I’m with you now, My friends,I can’t be with you long.For I must go and leave you all;It fills my heart with pain.Although we part perhaps in tears,I hope we’ll meet again.
Our cheerful voices let us raise
And sing a parting song;
Although I’m with you now, My friends,
I can’t be with you long.
For I must go and leave you all;
It fills my heart with pain.
Although we part perhaps in tears,
I hope we’ll meet again.
Found also SOH 30. The tune is like that of the English morris dance ‘I’ll Go and Enlist for a Sailor’, Sharp,Morris Dances, Set No. VIII., 6; ‘Gilderoy’, SMM, No. 5; and ‘Come all ye Faithful Christians’, JFSS, ii., 115-120.
Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III — V VI VII)
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The day is past and gone, the evening shades appear;O may we all remember well, the night of death is near.
The day is past and gone, the evening shades appear;
O may we all remember well, the night of death is near.
We lay our garments by, upon our beds to rest;So death will soon disrobe us all of what we here possess.
We lay our garments by, upon our beds to rest;
So death will soon disrobe us all of what we here possess.
Lord, keep us safe this night, secure from all our fears;May angels guard us while we sleep, till morning light appears.
Lord, keep us safe this night, secure from all our fears;
May angels guard us while we sleep, till morning light appears.
Miss Gilchrist compares this tune with ‘Sprig of Thyme’. See JFSS, viii., 70. Lowell Mason calls it an “Old American Tune” in using it in hisHarp of the South, p. 123.
Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III — V VI VII)
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Yes, my native land, I love thee;All thy scenes I love them well;Friends, connections, happy country,Can I bid you all farewell!Can I leave you, can I leave you,Far in heathen lands to dwell?Can I leave you, can I leave you,Far in heathen lands to dwell?
Yes, my native land, I love thee;
All thy scenes I love them well;
Friends, connections, happy country,
Can I bid you all farewell!
Can I leave you, can I leave you,
Far in heathen lands to dwell?
Can I leave you, can I leave you,
Far in heathen lands to dwell?
Home, thy joys are passing lovely,Joys no stranger heart can tell;Happy home! indeed I love thee;Can I, can I say, “Farewell!”Can I leave you,etc.
Home, thy joys are passing lovely,
Joys no stranger heart can tell;
Happy home! indeed I love thee;
Can I, can I say, “Farewell!”
Can I leave you,etc.
Scenes of sacred peace and pleasure,Holy days and Sabbath bell—Richest, brightest, sweetest treasure—Can I say a last farewell?Can I leave you,etc.
Scenes of sacred peace and pleasure,
Holy days and Sabbath bell—
Richest, brightest, sweetest treasure—
Can I say a last farewell?
Can I leave you,etc.
The words are ascribed to “Rev. Samuel F. Smith, Baptist, Boston, Mass.” The tune was “learned [by William Hauser, compiler, of theOlive Leaf] in Burke Co., Ga., 1841.”
Heptatonic aeolian, mode 2 A + b (I II 3 IV V 6 7)
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Thou man of grief, Remember me,Thou never canst thyself forgetThy last expiring agony,Thy fainting pangs and bloody sweat.
Thou man of grief, Remember me,
Thou never canst thyself forget
Thy last expiring agony,
Thy fainting pangs and bloody sweat.
The tune is attributed in the southern books to “Dare”. Found also GCM 165, OSH 48, SOC 175, HOC 45, WP 16. The tune is of a type which was widely sung to texts of the extremely solemn sort. The introduction of slight variation in the expression of this melodic idea led to tunes with other titles and various composers (?). I have called this tune family the ‘Kedron’ group. Its members are ‘Distress’, OSH 50; ‘Solemnity’, MOH 40; ‘Salem’, UH 22; ‘French Broad’ in this collection; ‘Child of Grace’, KNH 74; and ‘Messiah’, VH 30. Secular songs showing the same general melodic trend are ‘McAfee’s Confession’, Sharp, ii., 16, and Cox, p. 525; ‘A Brisk Young Sailor’, Sharp,One Hundred English Folksongs, No. 94; ‘Lord Bateman’, ibid., No. 6; and ‘Samuel Young’, Sharp, ii., 271.
Hexatonic (6th missing, cannot be classified but obviously ionian) (I II III IV V — VII)
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What’s this that steals, that steals upon my frame?Is it death, is it death?That soon will quench, will quench this mortal flame?Is it death, is it death?If this be death I soon shall beFrom every pain and sorrow free.I shall the King of glory see,All is well, all is well.
What’s this that steals, that steals upon my frame?
Is it death, is it death?
That soon will quench, will quench this mortal flame?
Is it death, is it death?
If this be death I soon shall be
From every pain and sorrow free.
I shall the King of glory see,
All is well, all is well.
Weep not, my friends, weep not for me,All is well, all is well!My sins forgiv’n, forgiv’n, and I am free,All is well, all is well!There’s not a cloud that doth arise,To hide my Jesus from my eyes.I soon shall mount the upper skies,All is well, all is well!
Weep not, my friends, weep not for me,
All is well, all is well!
My sins forgiv’n, forgiv’n, and I am free,
All is well, all is well!
There’s not a cloud that doth arise,
To hide my Jesus from my eyes.
I soon shall mount the upper skies,
All is well, all is well!
Tune, tune your harps, your harps ye saints on high,All is well, all is well!I too will strike my harp with equal joy,All is well, all is well!Bright angels are from glory come,They’re round my bed, they’re in my room,They wait to waft my spirit home,All is well, all is well.
Tune, tune your harps, your harps ye saints on high,
All is well, all is well!
I too will strike my harp with equal joy,
All is well, all is well!
Bright angels are from glory come,
They’re round my bed, they’re in my room,
They wait to waft my spirit home,
All is well, all is well.
As to sources we quote the 1911 editor of theOriginal Sacred Harp. After attributing tune and words to J. T. White, nephew of B. F. White, compiler of the 1844Sacred Harp, the editor states: “The tune had been published before it was printed in the [1844]Sacred Harp.” A negro version of the song was recently recorded in Texas and appears in thePublications of the Texas Folk-Lore Society, vii., 109.
Hexatonic, mode 1 A (I II III IV V VI —)
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O when shall I see Jesus and dwell with him above,And from the flowing fountain drink everlasting love?When shall I be deliver’d from this vain world of sin?And with my blessed Jesus drink endless pleasures in?
O when shall I see Jesus and dwell with him above,
And from the flowing fountain drink everlasting love?
When shall I be deliver’d 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 bids me ne’er give o’er;His promises are faithful—a righteous crown he’ll give,And all his valiant soldiers eternally shall live.
But now I am a soldier, my Captain’s gone before;
He’s given me my orders and bids me ne’er give o’er;
His promises are faithful—a righteous crown he’ll give,
And all his valiant soldiers eternally shall live.
Through grace I am determined to conquer tho’ I die,And then away to Jesus on wings of love I’ll fly.Farewell to sin and sorrow, I bid them both adieu,And O, my friends, prove faithful, and on your way pursue.
Through grace I am determined to conquer tho’ I die,
And then away to Jesus on wings of love I’ll fly.
Farewell to sin and sorrow, I bid them both adieu,
And O, my friends, prove faithful, and on your way pursue.
Whene’er you meet with troubles and trials on your way,Then cast your cares on Jesus and don’t forget to pray.Gird on the gospel armor of faith and hope and love,And when the combat’s ended He’ll carry you above.
Whene’er you meet with troubles and trials on your way,
Then cast your cares on Jesus and don’t forget to pray.
Gird on the gospel armor of faith and hope and love,
And when the combat’s ended He’ll carry you above.
O do not be discouraged for Jesus is your friend,And if you lack for knowledge, he’ll not refuse to lend.Neither will he upbraid you, though often you request,He’ll give you grace to conquer and take you home to rest.
O do not be discouraged for Jesus is your friend,
And if you lack for knowledge, he’ll not refuse to lend.
Neither will he upbraid you, though often you request,
He’ll give you grace to conquer and take you home to rest.
And when the last loud trumpet shall rend the vaulted skies,And bid th’ entombed millions from their cold beds arise;Our ransomed dust, reviv-ed, bright beauties shall put on,And soar to the blest mansions where our Redeemer’s gone.
And when the last loud trumpet shall rend the vaulted skies,
And bid th’ entombed millions from their cold beds arise;
Our ransomed dust, reviv-ed, bright beauties shall put on,
And soar to the blest mansions where our Redeemer’s gone.
Our eyes shall then with rapture, the Savior’s face behold;Our feet, no more diverted, shall walk the streets of gold.Our ears shall hear with transport the hosts celestial sing;Our tongues shall chant the glories of our immortal King.
Our eyes shall then with rapture, the Savior’s face behold;
Our feet, no more diverted, shall walk the streets of gold.
Our ears shall hear with transport the hosts celestial sing;
Our tongues shall chant the glories of our immortal King.
William Walker, compiler of the SOH, claims the tune. A recent variant of it, orally transmitted, is ‘O I’m So Happy’, in this collection. Another variant here is ‘Stephens’. All these tunes seem to derive from an old one recorded in Kilrush, Ireland, and found in the Petrie collection in two variants, Nos. 167 and 283. Compare also the similar ‘Hallelujah’ tune family with its members listed under the tune by that title in this collection.
The text is by John Leland and was uniquely popular—as sung in its purity or associated with various refrains and revival choruses—during the early part of the nineteenth century. The negroes have borrowed freely from this poem in making the texts for their spirituals, especially from the fourth and fifth stanzas. Cf. WS 217ff. and 286.
Hexatonic, mode 3 b (I II III IV V VI —)
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How tedious and tasteless the hours,When Jesus no longer I see;Sweet prospects, sweet birds and sweet flow’rsHave all lost 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.
How tedious and tasteless the hours,
When Jesus no longer I see;
Sweet prospects, sweet birds and sweet flow’rs
Have all lost 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 thus nigh,Have nothing to wish or to fear;No mortal so happy as I,My summer would last all the year.
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 thus 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 seasons or place,Would make any change in my mind.While blessed with a sense of his love,A palace a toy would appear;And prisons would palaces prove,If Jesus would dwell with me there.
Content with beholding his face,
My all to his pleasure resigned,
No changes of seasons or place,
Would make any change in my mind.
While blessed with a sense of his love,
A palace a toy would appear;
And prisons would palaces prove,
If Jesus would dwell with me there.
The tune is to be found in S. Baring-Gould’sSongs of the West, No. 100, as recorded before 1890 from the singing of an old man in Lamerton, England. We are informed by the editor of the collection that the song, ‘Both Sexes Give Ear to My Fancy’ which used this tune, had been very popular with aged people residing in the North of England, but that it was then “long out of print and handed down traditionally”. The earliest form of the tune seems to have been ‘Es nehme zehn-tausend Ducaten’ in Johann Sebastian Bach’s cantataMer hahn en neue Oberkeet(Cf. Bach-Gesellschaft, Vol. 29, p. 195). The earliest printed form of the Bach tune in England, according to Baring-Gould, was inThe Tragedy of Tragedies, orTom Thumb, 1734, as the setting of the song ‘In Hurry Posthaste for a License’. The earliest occurrence of the tune with the ‘Both Sexes’ text was inThe Lady’s Evening Book of Pleasure, about 1740. The air is also found inVocal Music, or the Songster’s Companion, second edition, 1782, to the song entitled ‘Farewell, Ye Green Fields and Sweet Groves’. This was probably the song whose tune was taken over bodily and whose words wereparodied to make the above song ‘Green Fields’. The author of the parody text was sometimes given in the fasola books as John Newton. The incidence of the song in southern song books of the first half of the nineteenth century (MOH 52, GCM 144, UH 112, KNH 80, OSH 127, HH 345, SOC 30, CM 24, HOC 16, TZ 237, SKH 18, PB 312, GOS 303, etc.) indicates its one-time wide popularity also on this continent.
Heptatonic ionian, mode 3 A + b (I II III IV V VI VII)
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High in yonder realms of lightDwell the raptured saints above,Far beyond our feeble sightHappy in Immanuel’s love.Pilgrims in this vale of tears,Once they knew like us below,Gloomy doubts, disturbing fears,Torturing pain and heavy woe.
High in yonder realms of light
Dwell the raptured saints above,
Far beyond our feeble sight
Happy in Immanuel’s love.
Pilgrims in this vale of tears,
Once they knew like us below,
Gloomy doubts, disturbing fears,
Torturing pain and heavy woe.
Days of weeping now are o’er,Past those scenes of toil and pain;They will feel distress no more,Never, never weep again.’Mid the chorus of the skies;’Mid angelic choirs above;They now join the songs that rise,Songs of praise to Jesus’ love.
Days of weeping now are o’er,
Past those scenes of toil and pain;
They will feel distress no more,
Never, never weep again.
’Mid the chorus of the skies;
’Mid angelic choirs above;
They now join the songs that rise,
Songs of praise to Jesus’ love.
There are two more stanzas of the text in theRevivalist. The tune and the text are obviously a parody on ‘Reuben, Reuben, I’ve Been Thinking’.
Hexatonic, mode 2 A (I II 3 IV V — 7)
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Drooping souls, no longer grieve,Heaven is propitious;If in Christ you do believe,You will find him precious.Jesus now is passing by,Calls the mourner to him,Brings salvation from on high;Now look up and see him.
Drooping souls, no longer grieve,
Heaven is propitious;
If in Christ you do believe,
You will find him precious.
Jesus now is passing by,
Calls the mourner to him,
Brings salvation from on high;
Now look up and see him.
For the complete text see ‘Lebanon’ in this collection. This song was taken into theSouthern Harmonyfrom theDover Selection. The tune is related to ‘Maid Freed From the Gallows’, Thomas, p. 164, and to the old Irish ‘Tell Me Dear Eveleen’, inA Select Collection of Original Irish Airs, No. 6, composed by Beethoven.
Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III — V VI VII)
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Hark, I hear the harps eternalRinging on the farther shore,As I near those swollen watersWith their deep and solemn roar.Hallelujah, hallelujah,Hallelujah, praise the Lamb;Hallelujah, hallelujah,Glory to the GREAT I AM!
Hark, I hear the harps eternal
Ringing on the farther shore,
As I near those swollen waters
With their deep and solemn roar.
Hallelujah, hallelujah,
Hallelujah, praise the Lamb;
Hallelujah, hallelujah,
Glory to the GREAT I AM!
And my soul, tho’ stain’d with sorrow,Fading as the light of day,Passes swiftly o’er those waters,To the city far away.Hallelujahetc.
And my soul, tho’ stain’d with sorrow,
Fading as the light of day,
Passes swiftly o’er those waters,
To the city far away.
Hallelujahetc.
Souls have cross’d before me, saintly,To that land of perfect rest;And I hear them singing faintly,In the mansions of the blest.Hallelujahetc.
Souls have cross’d before me, saintly,
To that land of perfect rest;
And I hear them singing faintly,
In the mansions of the blest.
Hallelujahetc.
The compiler of theOlive Leaffound this song, as he tells us, in F. R. Warren’sDream Music. The tune shows unmistakable family relationships, especially in the chorus, to ‘Nettleton’ in this collection.
Hexatonic, mode 3 b (I II III IV V VI —)
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Hark, my soul, it is the Lord;’Tis thy Savior, hear his word!Jesus speaks, he speaks to thee:“Say, poor sinner, say, poor sinner,Say, poor sinner, lov’st thou me?
Hark, my soul, it is the Lord;
’Tis thy Savior, hear his word!
Jesus speaks, he speaks to thee:
“Say, poor sinner, say, poor sinner,
Say, poor sinner, lov’st thou me?
“I deliver’d thee when bound,And, when wounded, healed thy wound;Sought thee wand’ring, set thee right;Turned thy darkness, turned thy darkness,Turned thy darkness into light.
“I deliver’d thee when bound,
And, when wounded, healed thy wound;
Sought thee wand’ring, set thee right;
Turned thy darkness, turned thy darkness,
Turned thy darkness into light.
“Can a mother’s tender careCease toward the child she bare?Yes, she may forgetful be,Yet will I re-, yet will I re-,Yet will I remember thee.”
“Can a mother’s tender care
Cease toward the child she bare?
Yes, she may forgetful be,
Yet will I re-, yet will I re-,
Yet will I remember thee.”
The song was “Arranged by James Christopher, of Spartansburg, S. C.”, according to theChristian Harmony. Richardson has a variant of this tune used with a text which is a recent mountain eulogy on the whiskey of the hills underthe title ‘Moonshine’, seeAmerican Mountain Songs, page 94. A hint of the antiquity of this tune form is given by the ‘Ass’s Sequence’ or ‘Orientis partibus’ from the beginning of the thirteenth century, a tune which was apparently cast in the folk-manner of that age.
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Orientis partibusaduentauit asinuspulcher et fortissimusSarcinis aptissimus.Hez, hez, sire asnes, hez.
Orientis partibus
aduentauit asinus
pulcher et fortissimus
Sarcinis aptissimus.
Hez, hez, sire asnes, hez.
Its modern representative is:
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SeeHymns Ancient and Modern, No. 413.
Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III — V VI VII)
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Lord, shed a beam of heav’nly dayTo melt this stubborn stone away;And thaw, with rays of love divine,This heart, this frozen heart of mine;This heart, this frozen heart of mine;This heart, this frozen heart of mine.
Lord, shed a beam of heav’nly day
To melt this stubborn stone away;
And thaw, with rays of love divine,
This heart, this frozen heart of mine;
This heart, this frozen heart of mine;
This heart, this frozen heart of mine.
The rocks can rend; the earth can quake;The seas can roar; the mountains shake;Of feeling, all things show some sign,But this unfeeling heart of mine.
The rocks can rend; the earth can quake;
The seas can roar; the mountains shake;
Of feeling, all things show some sign,
But this unfeeling heart of mine.
To hear the sorrows thou hast felt,Dear Lord, an adamant would melt!But I can read each moving line,And nothing move this heart of mine.
To hear the sorrows thou hast felt,
Dear Lord, an adamant would melt!
But I can read each moving line,
And nothing move this heart of mine.
The text is attributed, in theSacred Harpof 1844, to Joseph Hart and it is dated 1759. The tune is ascribed to E. J. King. The melodic trend of the refrain brings to mind ‘The Campbells are Coming’.
Hexatonic, mode 5 A (I — 3 IV V 6 7)
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Mourning souls, no longer grieve,Heaven is propitious;If on Christ you do believe,You shall find him precious.Jesus now is passing by,Calls the mourner to him;He hath died for you and I,Now look up and view him.
Mourning souls, no longer grieve,
Heaven is propitious;
If on Christ you do believe,
You shall find him precious.
Jesus now is passing by,
Calls the mourner to him;
He hath died for you and I,
Now look up and view 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 relyAll will be forgiven.
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 will 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 sinners, now return;Contrite souls, believe him!Jesus calls you—cease to mourn;Worship him—receive him!
Precious is the Savior’s name,
All his saints adore him;
He to save the dying came—
Prostrate bow before him;
Wand’ring sinners, now return;
Contrite souls, believe him!
Jesus calls you—cease to mourn;
Worship him—receive him!
From his hands, his feet,his side, runs the healing lotion;See the consolating tide,boundless as the ocean!See the healing waters movefor the sick and dying!Now resolve to gain his love,or to perish trying.
From his hands, his feet,
his side, runs the healing lotion;
See the consolating tide,
boundless as the ocean!
See the healing waters move
for the sick and dying!
Now resolve to gain his love,
or to perish trying.
Grace’s store is always free,drooping souls to gladden;Jesus calls: “Come unto me—weary, heavy laden.”Though your sins like mountains high,rise and reach to heaven,Soon as you on him rely,all shall be forgiven.
Grace’s store is always free,
drooping souls to gladden;
Jesus calls: “Come unto me—
weary, heavy laden.”
Though your sins like mountains high,
rise and reach to heaven,
Soon as you on him rely,
all shall be forgiven.
Now methinks I hear one say:“I will go and prove him;If he takes my sins away,surely I shall love him.Yes, I see the Father smile,now I lose my burden;All is grace, for I am vile,yet he seals my pardon.”
Now methinks I hear one say:
“I will go and prove him;
If he takes my sins away,
surely I shall love him.
Yes, I see the Father smile,
now I lose my burden;
All is grace, for I am vile,
yet he seals my pardon.”
This text is found HH 413, and also COH 122.
Heptatonic ionian, mode 3 A + b (I II III IV V VI VII)
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Bright scenes of glory strike my sense,And all my passions capture;Eternal beauties round me shine,Infusing warmest rapture.I live in pleasures deep and full,In swelling waves of glory.I feel my Savior in my soulAnd groan to tell the story.
Bright scenes of glory strike my sense,
And all my passions capture;
Eternal beauties round me shine,
Infusing warmest rapture.
I live in pleasures deep and full,
In swelling waves of glory.
I feel my Savior in my soul
And groan to tell the story.
Further stanzas are given under ‘Mecklinburg’. The tune was borrowed from ‘When the Wild War’s Deadly Blast’, SMM, No. 131. See also for melodic similarities ‘The Mill Mill O’, SMM, No. 157; and ‘Blue-Eyed Stranger’, Sharp,The Morris Book, PartI, p. 91. See Greig-Keith,Last Leaves, p. 181, for the tune’s wide use in the British Isles during the eighteenth century.
Heptatonic ionian, mode 3 A + b (I II III IV V VI VII)
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Here at Thy table, Lord, We meet To feed on food divine;Thy body is the bread we eat, Thy precious blood the wine.He that prepares the rich repast, Himself comes down and dies;And then invites us thus to feast, Upon the sacrifice.
Here at Thy table, Lord, We meet To feed on food divine;
Thy body is the bread we eat, Thy precious blood the wine.
He that prepares the rich repast, Himself comes down and dies;
And then invites us thus to feast, Upon the sacrifice.
The bitter torments he endured upon the shameful cross,For us his welcome guests procured these heart-reviving joys.His body torn with rudest hands becomes the finest bread,And with the blessings he commands, our noblest hopes are fed.
The bitter torments he endured upon the shameful cross,
For us his welcome guests procured these heart-reviving joys.
His body torn with rudest hands becomes the finest bread,
And with the blessings he commands, our noblest hopes are fed.
His blood that from each opening vein in purple torrents ranHath filled this cup with generous wine, that cheers both God and man.Sure there was never love so free, dear Savior, so divine;Well thou may’st claim that heart of mine, which owes so much to thine.
His blood that from each opening vein in purple torrents ran
Hath filled this cup with generous wine, that cheers both God and man.
Sure there was never love so free, dear Savior, so divine;
Well thou may’st claim that heart of mine, which owes so much to thine.
The text is one of those which rationalize religious rites; in this case, that of the communion. The tune is credited to Freeman Price. Its second part reminds of ‘The Merry, Merry Milkmaids’, Sharp,Country Dances, Set No. 5.
Hexatonic, mode 2 A (I II 3 IV V — 7)
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Death, ’tis a melancholy dayTo those that have no God,When the poor soul is forc’d awayTo seek her last abode.
Death, ’tis a melancholy day
To those that have no God,
When the poor soul is forc’d away
To seek her last abode.
In vain to heaven she lifts her eyes;But guilt, a heavy chain,Still drags her downward from the skiesTo darkness, fire and pain.
In vain to heaven she lifts her eyes;
But guilt, a heavy chain,
Still drags her downward from the skies
To darkness, fire and pain.
Awake and mourn, ye heirs of hell,Let stubborn sinners fear;You must be driv’n from earth and dwellAlone forever there.
Awake and mourn, ye heirs of hell,
Let stubborn sinners fear;
You must be driv’n from earth and dwell
Alone forever there.
See how the pit gapes wide for you,And flashes in your face;And thou, my soul, look downward too,And sing recov’ring grace.
See how the pit gapes wide for you,
And flashes in your face;
And thou, my soul, look downward too,
And sing recov’ring grace.
The text has been attributed to Watts. Recent hymnals have been purged of this doleful ditty and of all other songs which make hellfire too realistic. The tune was attributed to Chapin in some books and to Davisson in others. Davisson claims it in hisKentucky Harmony(1815). It is practically identical with ‘Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard’, Sharp, i., 182, a tune which Sharp heard in Greenwood, Albemarle County, Virginia, Davisson’s own territory and near where he is buried. An early variant which is practically identical with both the Sharp and the Davisson tunes is in Motherwell, Supplement, No. 30, associated with ‘The Bonnie Mermaid’ text. Found also, KYH 43, SOH 119, UH 37, KNH 38, OSH 29, HH 55.
Hexatonic, mode 3 b (I II III IV V VI —)
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Hark, listen to the trumpeters! They sound for volunteers!On Zion’s bright and flow’ry mount Behold the officers;Their horses white, their garments bright, With crown and bow they stand,Enlisting soldiers for their King, To march for Canaan’s land.
Hark, listen to the trumpeters! They sound for volunteers!
On Zion’s bright and flow’ry mount Behold the officers;
Their horses white, their garments bright, With crown and bow they stand,
Enlisting soldiers for their King, To march for Canaan’s land.
It sets my heart all in a flame; a soldier I will be;I will enlist, gird on my arms and fight for liberty.They want no cowards in their band (They will their colours fly),But call for valiant hearted men, who’re not afraid to die.
It sets my heart all in a flame; a soldier I will be;
I will enlist, gird on my arms and fight for liberty.
They want no cowards in their band (They will their colours fly),
But call for valiant hearted men, who’re not afraid to die.
The armies now are on parade, how martial they appear!All armed and dressed in uniform, they look like men of war;They follow their great General, the great Eternal Lamb,His garments stained with his own blood, King Jesus, is his name.
The armies now are on parade, how martial they appear!
All armed and dressed in uniform, they look like men of war;
They follow their great General, the great Eternal Lamb,
His garments stained with his own blood, King Jesus, is his name.
The trumpet sounds, the armies shout, and drive the hosts of hell;How dreadful is our God in arms! The great Immanuel!Sinners, enlist with Jesus Christ, th’ eternal Son of God,And march with us to Canaan’s land, beyond the swelling flood.
The trumpet sounds, the armies shout, and drive the hosts of hell;
How dreadful is our God in arms! The great Immanuel!
Sinners, enlist with Jesus Christ, th’ eternal Son of God,
And march with us to Canaan’s land, beyond the swelling flood.
There is a green and flow’ry field, where fruits immortal grow;There, clothed in white, the angels bright, our great Redeemer know.We’ll shout and sing forever more in that eternal world;But Satan and his armies too, shall down to hell be hurled.
There is a green and flow’ry field, where fruits immortal grow;
There, clothed in white, the angels bright, our great Redeemer know.
We’ll shout and sing forever more in that eternal world;
But Satan and his armies too, shall down to hell be hurled.
Hold up your heads, ye soldiers bold, redemption’s drawing nigh,We soon shall hear the trumpet sound; ’Twill shake both earth and sky;In fiery chariots then we’ll fly, and leave the world on fire,And meet around the starry throne to tune th’ immortal lyre.
Hold up your heads, ye soldiers bold, redemption’s drawing nigh,
We soon shall hear the trumpet sound; ’Twill shake both earth and sky;
In fiery chariots then we’ll fly, and leave the world on fire,
And meet around the starry throne to tune th’ immortal lyre.
The tune is attributed to Wm. Bradshaw. Found also HH 159 and SWP 90. Dett, p. 180, and SOH 301, have the same words but different tunes.
Pentatonic, mode 3 (I II III — V VI —)
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How can I vent my grief? My comforter is fled!By day I sigh without relief And groan upon my bed.
How can I vent my grief? My comforter is fled!
By day I sigh without relief And groan upon my bed.
How little did I think when first I did beginTo join a little with the world it was so great a sin.
How little did I think when first I did begin
To join a little with the world it was so great a sin.
I thought I might conform, nor singular appear,Converse and dress as others did, but now I feel the snare.
I thought I might conform, nor singular appear,
Converse and dress as others did, but now I feel the snare.
My confidence is gone, I find no words to say,Barren and lifeless is my soul when I attempt to pray.
My confidence is gone, I find no words to say,
Barren and lifeless is my soul when I attempt to pray.
The tune is similar to those used with several text variants of ‘The Wife of Usher’s Well’. Sharp, i., 150ff. The oldest American song book record of the ‘Backslider’ tune is in Ingalls’Christian Harmonyof 1805, p. 55, where it is entitled ‘The General Doom’ and begins:
Behold! with awful pomp,The Judge prepares to come;Th’ archangel sounds the awful trumpAnd wakes the general doom.
Behold! with awful pomp,
The Judge prepares to come;
Th’ archangel sounds the awful trump
And wakes the general doom.
Hexatonic, mode 2 A (I II 3 IV V — 7)
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Lift up your heads, Emmanuel’s friends,And taste the pleasure Jesus sends;Let nothing cause you to delay,But hasten on the good old way.
Lift up your heads, Emmanuel’s friends,
And taste the pleasure Jesus sends;
Let nothing cause you to delay,
But hasten on the good old way.
Our conflicts here, tho’ great they be,Shall not prevent our victory,If we but watch, and strive, and pray!Like soldiers in the good old way.
Our conflicts here, tho’ great they be,
Shall not prevent our victory,
If we but watch, and strive, and pray!
Like soldiers in the good old way.
O good old way, how sweet thou art!May none of us from thee depart;But may our actions always sayWe’re marching in the good old way!
O good old way, how sweet thou art!
May none of us from thee depart;
But may our actions always say
We’re marching in the good old way!
“A tune and song [words] of the Granade period”, William Hauser, compiler of theOlive Leafsuggests. John Adam Granade was an evangelist of the “wild” sort who lived 1775 to 1806. A negro tune which combines elements of the above and ‘I Went Down to the Valley’, in this collection, is inSlave Songs, No. 104.
Hexatonic, mode 2 A minorized (I II 3 IV V — 7 [VII])
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My rest is in heaven, my rest is not here,Then why should I murmur at trials severe.Be tranquil, my spirit, the worst that can comeBut shortens thy journey and hastens thee home.
My rest is in heaven, my rest is not here,
Then why should I murmur at trials severe.
Be tranquil, my spirit, the worst that can come
But shortens thy journey and hastens thee home.