Away In A Manger

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Verses 1 & 2, were written by an anonymous author, Some sources show the author as Martin Luther; this attribution (probably incorrect) is based on the title 'Luther's Cradle Hymn,' given to these words by the composer, James Murray. Verse 3 is by John Thomas McFarland (1851-1913).

Thanks to Richard W. Adams for doing this research.

'Mueller,' James R. Murray, 1887

Lyrics:
[G] Away in a manger, no [C] crib for a [G] bed,
The little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet [D] head.
The [G] stars in the sky looked [C] down where He [G] lay,
The [G] little Lord Jesus, [D] asleep on the [G] hay.

The cattle are lowing, the Baby awakes,
But little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes;
I love Thee, Lord Jesus, look down from the sky
And stay by my cradle til morning is nigh.

Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay
Close by me forever, and love me, I pray;
Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care,
And take us to heaven to live with Thee there.

I Am A Pilgram

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This is an old spiritual, sung by numerous country artists. It has a good melody and is a good picking song. I thought of it in conjunction with Thanksgiving, as it was the Pilgrims who started it all. Happy Thanksgiving 2002!
Lyrics:
[G] I am a [D] pilgrim an’ a [G] strangerTraveling [C] through this wearsome [G] land

I’ve got a home, in yonder [C] city good Lord [C7],

[G] And it’s not not [D] made by [G] hand

I’ve got a mother, sister and a brother
Who have been this way before
I am determined to go and see them, good Lord
Over on that other shore

I going down to the river of Jordan
Just to bathe my wearsome soul
If I can just touch the hem of his garmet, good Lord
Then I know he’d take me home

I am a pilgrim and a stranger
Travelling through this wearsome land
I’ve got a home in that yonder city, good Lord
And it’s not not made by hand

Wildwood Flower

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This is a nineteenth-century North American parlor song that has gone into the public domain. There are many variants, some quite amusing when compared to this version. For instance the line:

I will dance I will sing and my life shall be gay

I will charm every heart in the crowd I survey has been changed to:

Oh, I'll dance, I will sing and my laugh shall be gay

I will charm ev'ry heart, in his crown I will sway

Clearly a misunderstood line, passed along by the oral tradition. This is a fine example of the folk process.

This song was written by Maud and J.P. Weber, and popularized by the Carter Family. Another great Guitar picking song. This is the first song I've recorded with my new Martin HD28V that Dick Boak at Martin Guitars helped me pick out at the factory.

Lyrics:
[D] I will twine with my mingles of [A] raven [D] black hair

With the roses so red and the [A] lilies [D] so fair

The myrtle so bright in its [G] emerald [D] hue

And the pale amaryllis and [A] violets so [D] blue

Oh he promised to love me and promised to love

And cherish me over all others above

I woke from my dream and my idol was clay

And my portion of loving had all passed away

I will dance I will sing and my life shall be gay

I will charm every heart in the crowd I survey

Though my heart now is breaking he shall never know

How his name makes me tremble my pale cheeks to glow

Oh he taught me to love him and called me his flower

A blossom to cheer him through life’s weary hour

But now he is gone and left me alone

With the wild flowers to weep and the wild birds to moan

Yes I’ll dance and I’ll sing and my life shall be gay

I will banish this weeping, drive troubles away

I’ll live yet to see him regret that dark hour

When he won and neglected his frail wildwood flower

Railroad Bill

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Lyrics:
[C] Railroad Bill [E7] Railroad Bill

He [F] always worked

And he [C] always will

[C] Ride [G] Railroad [C] Bill

Railroad Bill, up on a hill

Lightin’ a seegar

With a ten-dollar bill.

Ride Railroad Bill

Old policeman sold him a train

Never did lose boys

Always did gain

Ride Railroad Bill

Mounted them train cars all piggyback

Some on the road boys

And some on the track

Ride Railroad Bill

Sometimes a freight train sometimes a van

If anyone gets there

You know that he can

Ride Railroad Bill

One time he had to fill in for this guy

Bi!! had to bless that

Old train goin’ by

Ride Railroad Bill

Got off the rails and got into wine

Now he goes off

To France in his mind

Ride Railroad Bill

Delia's Gone

This was originally an American Honky-tonk song but has returned to the United States by way of the Bahama Islands.
Lyrics:
[D] Tony shot his [G] Delia
[D]’Ton a Saturday [D7] night
[G] The fist time he shot her [Em] Lord
[A] She bowed her head and [D] died

[A] Delia’s gone, one more round, [D] Delia’s gone
[A] Delia’s gone, one more round, [D] Delia’s gone

Called for the doctor
The doctor came too late
Called for the Minister
Take Delia to her fate

Well they took my Delia
Dressed her all in Brown
Took her to the graveyard
And then they laid her down

Delia oh Delia
Where you been so long
Everybody’s talking about
My Delia’s dead and gone

All My Trials

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Though this song has Bahamian origins, it is usually classified as a Spiritual. A mother is comforting her child on her deathbed.

This is dedicated to the memory of Paul Lowman.

Lyrics:
[D] Hush little baby don't you cry [D7]

[D[ You know your mama's bound to [G] die

[D] All my [A7] trials Lord

Will soon be [D] over

If religion was a thing that money could buy

The rich would live and the poor would die

All my trials Lord

Soon be over

Too late my brothers

Too late, but never mind

All my trials Lord

Soon be over

There is a tree in Paradise

The Pilgrims call it the tree of life

All my trials Lord

Soon be over

If religion was a thing that money could buy

The rich would live and the poor would die

All my trials Lord

Soon be over

Hush little baby don't you cry

You know your mama’s bound to die

All my trials Lord

Soon be over

Tarrytown

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In the summer of 1959, Marsha, Dick and I formed a trio. We called ourselves 'The Old Town Singers.' The name came from the Old Town School of Folk Music, where we had met. We rehearsed for weeks, but to my recollection, never did a paying gig. When the Limeliters hired me to accompany them on their RCA live LP in 1960, I left Chicago, and lived on the road for the next few years. It's interesting to think what might have happened if I'd stayed in Chicago and continued to perform with 'The Old Town Singers.' We formed about two years before Peter Paul and Mary. This is a practice recording made on a reel to reel Pentron tape recorder at 7 1/2 IPS. The tape was broken in two places and spliced, causing the slight jumps in audio quality.
Lyrics:
In [E] Tarry- [B7] town there did [E] dwell

A handsome [A] youth I knew so [B7] well

He courted [E] me my life [A] away,

And [B7] now with me he will no longer [E] stay

Wide and [B7] deep my grave will [E] be

With the [B7] wild goose grasses growing over [E] me

Wide and [B7] deep my grave will [E] be

With the [B7] wild goose grasses growing over [E] me

Oh once I wore my apron low

He’s follow me through ice and snow

Now that I wear my apron high

You walk right down the street and pass me by

Wide and deep my grave will be

With the wild goose grasses growing over me

Wide and deep my grave will be

With the wild goose grasses growing over me

There is an inn in Tarrytown

Where my love goes and sits him down

He takes another on his knee

For she has golden lashes more than me

Wide and deep my grave will be

With the wild goose grasses growing over me

Wide and deep my grave will be

With the wild goose grasses growing over me

Michael Row the Boat Ashore

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The Georgia Sea Islands is a section of the United States rich in African American folk song. For over a hundred miles, these low flat islands decorate the Atlantic Coast. Here's where slaves were brought fresh from Africa and for generations, spent their entire lives out of touch with the mainland.

In olden days, transportation to the mainland was provided by small boats and strong arms to row them. The oar crews from different plantations prided themselves on their singing, each making up new songs that no other boat would ever sing.

Two of the best known songs whose roots are in this tradition of Georgia Sea Island singing are 'Michael Row the Boat Ashore' and the more recent, 'Pay Me My Money Down.' I learned this song at the Old Town School of Folk Music in Chicago when I was 15 years old. It's been one of my favorite songs ever since.

Lyrics:
[D] Michael row the boat ashore, [G] hallelujah [D]
[D] Michael [F#m] row the boat [Em] ashore, [D] halle [A] lu [D] jah

Sister help to trim the sails, hallelujah
Sister help to trim the sails, hallelujah

Jordan's River is deep and wide, hallelujah
And I've got a home on the other side, hallelujah

Jordan River is chilly and cold, hallelujah
Chills the body but not the soul, hallelujah

When I get to Heaven I'm gonna' sing and shout, hallelujah
Nobody there's gonna' kick me out, hallelujah

Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah
Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah

Michael's boat is a music boat, hallelujah
Michael's boat is a music boat, hallelujah

Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah
Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah

The trumpets sound the Jubilee, hallelujah
The trumpets sound for you and me, hallelujah

Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah
Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah
Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah
Michael row the boat ashore, hallelujah

Rock Island Line

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The Rock Island Line

One of the great songs performed by Lead Belly and interpreted by numerous

artists, over the years, such as the Weavers. Many interpreters have added

their own humorous words, but these are the original lyrics created and sung by Lead Belly.

Lyrics:
The Rock Island Line

(Huddie Ledbetter 'Lead Belly')

Chorus:

[G] Oh the Rock Island Line is a mighty fine line

Oh the Rock Island Line is the [D] road to ride

[G] Oh the Rock Island Line is a mighty fine line

If you [C] want to ride, you gotta [G] ride it like you're flyin'

Get your [C] ticket at the station on the [D] Rock Island [G] Line

[G] A-B-C double X-Y-Z

[D] Cat's in the cupboard and she cain't [G] find me

CH

Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong

Lawd you gonna miss me when I'm gone

CH

Jesus died to save our sins

Glory to God I'm gonna see Him again

CH

Moses stood on the Red Sea shore

Smotin' the water with a two-by-four

CH X2

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Recording copyright 2002 Roger McGuinn / McGuinn Music

Roddy McCorley

Roddy McCorley was a local leader in County Antrim in Ireland during the rebellion of 1798. After being captured by British Soldiers he was executed in the town of Toomebridge.. The song was adapted by the Clancy Brothers from words written by Ethna Carberry who lived from 1866-1902.The Clancy Brothers recorded the song on the 1961 album ‘The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem’ on Tradition Records. The Kingston Trio also recorded the song. I first heard it performed by the Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem at the Gate of Horn folk club in Chicago around 1961. Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
Lyrics:
G] O see the fleet-foot host of men, who [C] march with faces [G] drawn,
From farmstead and from [C] fishers’ [G] cot, along the [C] banks of [D] Ban;
[G] They come with vengeance [C] in their [G] eyes. Too late! [C] Too late are
[D] they,
[G] For young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the [C] bridge of Toome
[G] today.

Oh Ireland, Mother Ireland, you love them still the best
The fearless brave who fighting fall upon your hapless breast,
But never a one of all your dead more bravely fell in fray,
Than he who marches to his fate on the bridge of Toome today.

Up the narrow street he stepped, so smiling, proud and young.
About the hemp-rope on his neck, the golden ringlets clung;
There’s ne’er a tear in his blue eyes, fearless and brave are
they,
As young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome
today.

When last this narrow street he trod, his shining pike in hand
Behind him marched, in grim array, an earnest stalwart band.
To Antrim town! To Antrim town, he led them to the fray,
But young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

The grey coat and its sash of green were brave and stainless then,
A banner flashed beneath the sun over the marching men;
The coat hath many a rent this noon, the sash is torn away,
And Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

Oh, how his pike flashed in the sun! Then found a foeman’s heart,
Through furious fight, and heavy odds he bore a true man’s part
And many a red-coat bit the dust before his keen pike-play,
But Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

There’s never a one of all your dead more bravely died in fray
Than he who marches to his fate in Toomebridge town today;
True to the last! True to the last, he treads the upwards way,
And young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.