Dark Old Waters   

© 1992 Gordon Bok, BMI

 

I wrote this for the film documentary of the short life of the schooner John F Leavitt, by the Atlantic Film Company.  It's two ways of looking at the birth of a sailing vessel. 

 

Sung with a leader and chorus;  the chorus lines are in italics

 

Don't be thinking of me,

All away and alone,   

On the rolling old sea,

On the foreign ground,

For I laid your keel and that's dandy for me

On the dark old waters, all alone.

 

Where you go, go well, and a fair wind home.

 

Don't be thinking of me on the rolling old sea

For I raised your frame and that's bully for me

 

And where will you go with your rail dipping low?

And where you may wander there's none can know

 

Don't be thinking of me on the rolling old sea,

For I hung your canvas and sent you to sea

 

And where will you be when the winter comes nigh?

And where will you be when I'm thinking of thee?

 

And how stands the wind? Will he come as a friend

And keep you from dangers that lie off the land?

 

And how stand the stars in the whispering dawn?

May they guide you and bless you and the seas sail you on

 

…Oh hey, oh ho, heave an oar and go

           

Oh where will you bide at the end of your ride,

And who'll sing you songs when I'm not at your side?

 

…Oh hey, oh ho, heave an oar and go

 

 

Hush Ye My Bairnie/Buckeye Jim

Hush Ye My Bairnie/Buckeye Jim

Trad. Scottish & Appalachian

        As usual, I have Gordon to thank for teaching me this Scottish lullaby. The words feel so good, rolling off the tongue, and, for me, the melody remains as fresh and alive as a goodnight kiss. "Buckeye Jim" is a lullaby from the southern Appalachian Mountains. Alan Lomax, who published the song in Best Loved American Folksongs, writes that it has "a feeling of other-worldliness, a sense of things seen through the world of fantasy." Fletcher Collins found the song many years ago, and later taught it to Burl Ives. ( AMM)

Hush ye, my bairnie,
Bonny wee laddie,
When you're a man
You shall· follow your daddy.
Lift me a coo 'n'
A goat and a wether,
Bringing them hame
To your mammy together.

Hush ye, my bairnie,
Bonny wee laddie,
Nowt but good things
Ye shall bring to your mammy:
Hare frae the meadow,
Deer frae the mountain,
Grouse frae the moorland
And trout frae the fountain.

Hush ye, my bairnie,
Bonny wee laddie,
Sleep now and close your eyes,
Heavy · and weary.
Close now your weary eyes,
Rest ye are taking;
Sound be thy sleeping
And bright be thy waking.

Hush ye, my bairnie,
Bonny wee laddie ...

Way up yonder above the sky,
Bluejay nests in a jaybird's eye.
Buakeye Jim, you can't go.
Go weave and spin1 you can't go,
Buakeye Jim.

Way up yonder above the moon,
Bluejay nests in a silver spoon.

Way up yonder by a hollow log,
Redbird danced with a green bullfrog.

Way up yonder by a wooden trough,
An old woman died of the whooping cough.

Way up yonder above the sky,
Bluejay nests in a jaybird's eye.

Way up yonder above the moon,
Bluejay nests in a silver spoon.

Aragon Mill

Aragon Mill

©Si Kahn

        Si Kahn's song about the human side of the closing of the mill is just one of the many good songs he's given us. He has recorded the song himself on his June Appal album, New Wood, and the Red Clay Ramblers have also performed it on one of their recordings. (ET)

And the only tune I hear
Is the sound of the wind
As it blows through the town,
Weave and spin, weave and spin.

At the east end of town,
At the foot of the hill,
Stands a chimney so tall
That says "Aragon Mill."

But there's no smoke at all
Coming out of the stack.
The mill has shut down
And it ain't a-coming back.

Well, I'm too old to work
And I'm too young to die.
Tell me, where shall we go,
My old gal and I?

There's no ahildren at all
In the narrow, empty street.
The mill has closed down;
It's so quiet I can't sleep

Yes, the mill has shut down ;
It's the only life I know .
Tell me, where will I go ,
Tell me, where will I go?

And the only tune I hear
Is the sound of the wind
As it blows through the town ,
Weave and spin, weave and spin .

North-South Handy

North-South Handy (Eskimo Tune/Sweet Richard)

©Trad, Greenland and the Southern United States

        I learned "Sweet Richard" from Tom Judge and Nick Apollonio, of Tenant's Harbor, Maine. Tom called it "a southern tune." The Eskimo tune is about as far from that as you can get: it was collected in Greenland around the turn of the century, where some Eskimos were dancing to it. The chords are my own. (GB)

Jute Mill Song (Mary Brookbank)

A Water Over Stone 

© 1979 Gordon Bok, BMI

 

"Three songs for Ethelwyn."

            My aunt, Ethelwyn, lives on a boat and once married a fellow from the Isle of Man.  One of her favorite quotes was:

 

            For sad I was, and sore I was,

            And lonely to the bone.

            A green a grass, a gray a grass,

            A water over stone.

            Oh, lay a rose upon a rose

            And take away the lone.

 

            It is apparently from an old Irish book that she and her sisters were fond of reading when they were children.  One day she wrote it down for me and said "Here.  Put a tune to this."

            The first tune here happened while I was trying to write the second.  The third tune is a traditional lullaby from the Isle of Man called "Oye Vie" (goodnight.)

 



Ivor the Driver

Go And Dig My Grave

Trad. Bahamas

         This song was originally collected in the Bahamas, where Alan Lomax and Mary Elizabeth Barnicle recorded it in 1935, sung in Nassau by a group of men from Andros Island. It appeared in Our Singing Country (1941) by John and Alan Lomax. Around 1942, it was issued on an album by the Library of Congress (#5, LP #L5). Pete Seeger recorded it on his first Folkways LP in the early 1950's. I learned it from Joe and Lynn Hickerson. (ET)

Go and dig my grave
Both long and narrow;
Make my coffin
Neat and strong.

(repeat)

Two to my head,
Two to my feet,
Two to carry me, Lord,
When I die.

(repeat)

hMy soul's gonna shine like a star,
My soul's gonna shine like a star,
like a star,
My soul's gonna shine like a star,
Lord, I'm bound for heaven when I die.

My soul's gonna shine like a star,
Gonna twinkle and twinkle like a
little star,
My soul's gonna shine like a star,
Lord, I'm bound for heaven when I die.

(repeat from beginning)

Andy's Gone for Cattle

Andy's Gone for Cattle

©Words by Henry Lawson

        It was from the very beautiful singing of Maggie Peirce that I first became acquainted with this lovely song. Clearly, Andy holds a cherished position in the hearts of those left behind to tend the lonely Australian cattle Rtation. Severe drought is not uncommon to these large selections and, once again, in an effort to survive, one of the favored young men has had to leave to find water, taking all the cattle with him. The song is based on a poem by Henry Lawson, first published in 1888. (AMM)

Andy's gone with cattle now,
Our hearts are out of order.
With drought he's gone to battle now,
Across the Queensland border.
He's left us in dejection now,
With him our thoughts are roving.
It's dull on this selection now,
Since Andy's gone a-droving.

Who will wear the cheerful face
At times when things are slackest,
And who will whistle 'round the place
When Fortune smiles her blackest?
And who will cheek the squatter now
When he comes 'round us snarling?
His tongue is growing hotter now
Since Andy crossed the Darling.

Oh, may the rain in torrents fall
And all the tanks run over,
And may the grass grow green and tall
In pathways of the drover.
An may good angels send the rain
To desert stretches sandy,
And when the summer comes again,
God grant it brings us Andy.

(repeat first verse)

Run, Come See Jerusalem

Run, Come See Jerusalem

©Blake Alphonso Higgs

        I learned this Bahamian ballad many years ago, probably principally from the singing of Blake Alphonso Higgs (Blind Blake). I cannot vouch for the accuracy of the words, as I have heard, and been influenced by, quite a few versions over the years, the most recent being sent to me by a friend on a research vessel on the Labrador. The song seems to lose none of its power and poignancy with the passing of the years, and we think it is due for yet another incarnation.(GB)

It was nineteen hundred and twentynine,
Run come see, run come see,
I remember that day pretty well,
It was nineteen hundred and twentynine,
Run come see Jerusalem.

(Similarly)
They were taLking about a storm in the islands,
My Lord, what a beautiful, morning.

There were three sail, Leaving out the harbor,
With mommas and children on board.

It was the Ethel and the Myrtle and Praetoria,
They were out on the perilous ocean.

Now the Ethel was bound for Fresh Creek,
With mommas and chiLdren on board.

And the Myrtle was bound for Staniel Cay,
She was out on the perilous ocean.

And Praetoria was out on the ocean,
Knocking down on her beam in the sea.

My God, and a big sea build up in the Northwest,
And the mommas come grabbing for their children.

My God, and the first sea hit the Praetoria,
And the children come grabbing for their mommas.

My God, and the sailor go downward for the bottom,
And the captain come grabbing for the tiller.

Now George Brown, he was the captain;
He shouts, "My children, come pray."

He says, "Come now, witness your judgement,"
And the women all crying for the Daniel-God.

There was thirty-three soul, on the water,
My Lord, what a beautiful morning.

Scarborough Settler's Lament

Scarborough Settler's Lament

traditiona/lyrics: Sandy Glendenning

        I first heard these tunes in an anchorage in Cape Breton Island many years ago. Two pipers were practicing them long enough for me to catch the shape of them. I didn't learn their names until years later. I learned Scarborough Settler's Lament from Ed Trickett. (GB)

Away with Canada's muddy creeks
And Canada's fields of pine;
Your land of wheat is a goodly land,
But oh, it is not mine.
The heathy hill, the grassy dale,
The daisy spangled lea,
The purling burn and the craggy linn,
Old Scotia's land give me.

How I'd love to hear again
The lark on Tinny's hill,
And see the wee bit gowany
That blooms beside the rill.
Like banished Swiss who views afar
His Alps, with longing e'e,
I gaze upon the morning star
That shines on my country.

No more I'll wend by Eskdale Pen
Or Pentland's craggy cone.
The days shall ne'er return again
Of thirty years that's gone.
But fancy oft at midnight hour
Will steal across the sea;
Yestre'en amidst a pleasant dream
I saw my own country.

Each well-known scene that met my view,
Brought childhood's joys to mind
The blackbird sand on Tushy Linn
The song he sang "Lang Syne."
But like a dream, steals away,
Then morning came.
And I awoke in Canada
Three thousand miles from home.

Hearth and fire be ours tonight

Hearth and Fire  

© 1980 Gordon Bok, BMI

 

"I made this one Thanksgiving, surrounded by good company, a warm house, and plentiful food; and I could not keep from think of friends who, for illness, poverty, distance or death, could not share those things with me." 

 

Hearth and fire be ours tonight

And all the wind outside;

Fair the wind and kind on you

Wherever you may bide.

 

            And I'll be the sun upon your head,

            The wind about your face;

            My love upon the path you tread,

            And Upon your wanderings, peace.*

 

Wine and song be ours tonight,

And all the cold outside;

Peace and warmth be yours tonight

Wherever you may bide.

           

            And I'll be….

 

Hearth and fire be ours tonight,

And the wind in the birches bare;

Oh, that the wind we hear tonight

Would find you well and fair.

           

            And I'll be….

 

 

 

*a dear friend mine loved this song and asked once why I used the word "peace" when the rest of the song seemed to be speaking more of grace.  I sometimes replace the word "peace" with the word "grace" when I finish the song in concert.  I bid you use whichever word seems best, but to think about the difference.