Introduced by Ian Robb

I first heard this “unbroken token” ballad from a young St. John’s singer, Ellen Power, then in her teens, at the Newfoundland and Labrador Folk Festival. Asking around, I discovered that the song had come from singer and accordion player Dorman Ralph, of Little Harbour Deep, White Bay, Newfoundland, who lived in St John’s from 1956 until his death in 1999.

I was attracted to the song for two reasons: Firstly, I loved the denouement, when not only do the long parted lovers fall into each other’s arms, but “both sat down to sing…” Secondly, I was intrigued by the melody, which is a version of that collected by Ralph Vaughan Williams from Harriet Verrall, in Monk’s Gate, Sussex, and to which he set John Bunyan’s poem “To Be a Pilgrim,” creating one of the best known English hymns. On the English folk scene, the tune is mostly associated with Mrs Verrall’s song “Our Captain Cried All Hands” and with a version of “A Blacksmith Courted Me,” but despite the fact that the text of “Welcome Home My Sailor” is known in England, sung and recorded by no less than Lal Waterson and later, Eliza Carthy, the tune used is quite different.

The words here are as I sing it, mostly from Jim Payne and Fergus O’Byrne’s version on their CD, How Good is Me Life, with some inevitable minor tinkering.

Here are Jim Payne and Fergus O’Byrne singing the song:

Score Welcome Home My Sailor
Click here for a downloadable PDF

Lyrics, from Jim Payne, who had it from Dorman Ralph, White Bay, NL:

One night as I walked out, it being dark all over
The moon gave out no light, I could scarce discover
Down by a briny beach where ships were sailing,
A comely maid I spied, weeping and wailing.

I boldly stepped to her and I asked what grieved her,
The answer that she gave was none could relieve her,
“My own true love’s last prayer was to cross the ocean
My heart is like the wave, always in motion.”

I said, “My fair young maid, mark well my story
For your true love and I fought for England’s glory
By one unlucky shot he from me was parted,
And by our foe’s last shot, died broken hearted.

He said before he died that his heart was broken
‘I’ll give you my gold ring, take it as a token
Give it to my true love — there is none who’s fairer —
And tell her to prove true, and wed the bearer’.”

And when she heard these words, she fell distracted
She knew not how she felt, nor how she acted
She wrang and tore her hair, like one in anger,
“Young man you’ve come too late, I’ll wed no stranger.”

And when I heard these words, my love grew stronger
I fell into her arms, I could stay no longer
We both sat down to sing, and she sang clearest
Like a nightingale she sang, “Welcome home my dearest.”

She sang, “God bless the wind that blew you over,”
She sang, “God bless the ship that brought you over,”
She sang, “God bless the waves that tossed you over,”
Like a nightingale she sang, “Welcome home my sailor.”

Recorded versions:
Dorman Ralph, from his eponymous CD, released in 1999.
Jim Payne and Fergus O’Byrne, from their 2005 CD, How Good is Me Life.
Both are available from Singsong Inc.

Ian Robb is a singer, concertina player and occasional “writer of old songs,” who lives in Ottawa, Canada.

Introduced by Dick Swain

This wonderful song was introduced to most people by Joe Hickerson on his recording, Drive Dull Care Away, Vol. 1, Folk Legacy Records, FSI-58. It was collected on Prince Edward Island from Charles Gorman by folklorist Edward (Sandy) Ives, and published in his book,Drive Dull Care Away: Folksongs from Prince Edward Island, Charlottetown, PEI, Institute for Island Studies 1999, pp. 81-82. The book includes a CD with a field recording of Charles Gorman singing the song. In the late 18th and early 19th century it appeared in broadsides and a number of songsters under the titles “Contentment” or “The Friendly Society.” In the notes to his recording, Joe Hickerson says that an untitled version of the song was published in the September 30, 1775 issue of The Pennsylvania Ledger; or the Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania & New Jersey Weekly Advertiser, and included the refrain, “Let us then constant be / For while we’re here / My friends so dear / We’ll fight for liberty.”

Listen to John Roberts and Debra Cowan sing the song in this YouTube video:

Drive Dull Care Away sheet music
Click here to download a PDF version

Lyrics:

Oh, why should we our lot complain
Or grieve at our distress?
Some think if they could riches gain
T’would be true happiness
But alas how vain is all their strife
So while we’re here with our friends so dear
We’ll drive dull care away:

Chorus:
Away, away, away, away
We will drive dull care away
So while we’re here with our friends so dear
We’ll drive dull care away.

Why should the rich despise the poor?
Why should the poor repine?
When we will all in a few short years
In equal friendship join
They’re both to blame, they’re all the same
We are all made of one clay,
So while we’re here with our friends so dear
We’ll drive dull care away:

[Chorus]

We’ll drive dull care away:

[Chorus]

So let us make the best of life
Not rendering it a curse
But take it as you would a wife
For better or for worse
Life at its best is but a jest
Like a dreary winter’s day
So while we’re here with our friends so dear
We’ll drive dull care away:

[Chorus]

The following verse appears under the title “The Friendly Society” with a different tune and no chorus in Spicer’s Pocket Companion, Ishmael Spicer, Connecticut Historical Society, MS, [1797?]. See Jim Douglas, Contentment or The Nutmeg Songster, Sturbridge, MA, Pedlar Press, 1986.

When age, old age, comes creeping on
And we are young no more
Let’s not repine at what we’ve done
Or grieve that youth is o’re
But cheerful be as formerly
And innocently gay
And since we’re here with our friends so dear
We’ll drive dull care away

Combining his skills as a librarian with a life-long interest in folk music, Dick Swain researches and performs songs from the places he has lived and worked, including the Great Lakes Region, Pennsylvania, and Maine. He accompanied Sandy Ives on several trips to Prince Edward Island and has performed at folk festivals, museums, and libraries in the U.S. and Canada. He was Program Director of the CDSS Pinewoods Folk Music Week four times and was a staff member of the Traditional Music and Dance (TradMaD) Camp in 2017. He is especially proud that Sandy Ives signed his copy of Drive Dull Care Away with the words: “For Dick Swain, who sings the old come-all-ye’s the way they should be sung!”

Introduced by Dave Para and Cathy Barton

Ozark song collector Loman Cansler often sang this song he learned from his grandfather James Broyles, originally from Laclede County, Missouri, and he recorded it for Folkways in 1959. A variant of “The Girl I Left Behind Me,” its extended phrasing suggests a Western sound. The Civil War references are vague, but the main story remains all too relevant. “Texian” was a term used by early colonists and leaders in the Texas Revolution, many of whom were influential during the Civil War.

Watch Dave and Cathy sing the song below. You can also hear Loman Cansler sing it from his 1959 Folkways album on Spotify here.

Sheet music for When I Went for to Take My Leave
Click on the notation to download a PDF version

Lyrics:

When I went for to take my leave, I thought the tears would blind me,
A’ shaking of those tender little hands of the babe I left behind me.

When I went for to take my leave, leaving all my joys,
It was all that was near and dear unto to me was left with the Texian boys.

I told my wife that the wagons were ready and the boys was a’waiting for me.
O, here’s my hand, farewell my dear, I’m going away to the army.

When this war is at an end, if the Davis boys don’t bind me
I’ll make my way straight home again to the wife and baby behind me.

Dave Para and Cathy Barton play and sing a lot of traditional music from Missouri and the Ozarks and did a couple of albums of Civil War music from Missouri with Bob Dyer. They have been members of the Missouri Folklore Society since its revival 40 years ago. Loman Cansler often attended and sang at MFS events, and Becky Schroeder helped him put his collection at Western Historical Manuscripts, State Historical Society of Missouri. Dave and Cathy recorded When I Went for to Take My Leave on their Sweet Journeys CD.

Banks of Green Willow/Bonnie Annie (trad. Child 24, arr. by Craig)
Introduced by Moira Craig

This is of the Jonah ballad form, where it is bad luck for a woman to be on board ship. In this version, the captain’s pregnant lover seems to be the cause the ship is having problems and she is thrown overboard to die! The visual images in this ballad are amazing and to me the tune represents the sounds of the sea rising and falling. The words and tune can be found in Traditional Folksongs and Ballads of Scotland.

Listen to Moira Craig singing the tune. You’ll find the song lyrics beneath the notation below.

Bonnie Annie sheet music
Download a PDF version of the notation

Lyrics:

There once was a merchant and he lived in Dumbarton
And he had a daughter and her name it was Annie

And there was a merchant and he came from Strathdinning
And he’s got this bonnie lass big, big wi bairnie

Oh ye’ll tak ship wi me and ye’ll be ma hinnie
What more can women dae than I can dae for ye

Well the hadnae been sailing a week, but scarcely ony
Whe she needed women and there wernae ony

Oh captain tak gold and captain tak money
And steer for the dry land for the sake o yer bairnie

Well how can I tak gold and how can I tak money
For there’s fay folk on the ship and she willnae steer for me

Then tak me by the fingers and lift me up hooly
And cast me overboard and have nae pity on me

So he’s taen her by the fingers and lifted her up hooly
And he’s thrown her overboard though she was his ain dearie

Oh see how she swims and see how she swaggers
And she’ll no leave off swimming till she comes tae some harbour

His love she was there when he came tae the dry land
She was lying there died on the cold sea strand

And her baby was born and lying at her feet
For the loss of his bonny love sair, sair did he greet

He’s caused mak a kist o the gowden sae yellow
And there all three lie sleeping on the banks o green willow

Moira Craig was born and brought up outside of Glasgow and her home was always full of singing and music—she never thought much about it, it was normal to her. While Scottish traditional songs are her main love, she’ll sing anything at the drop of a hat and hopefully will continue to do so till the day she dies.

Introduced by David Jones

I learned this song from a recording by A. L. Lloyd, “English Street Songs,” (Riverside, issued in 1956), an LP that I found in the $1.00 bin at Alan Block’s Sandal Shop in Greenwich Village. The LP was reissued as a CD, “Ten Thousand Miles Away” (2008). I mostly use Lloyd’s words which can be found on the website “Mainly Norfolk: English Folk and Other Good Music.” Alongside, are Peter Bellamy’s words which are just about the same. Also on this site is a video of Peter singing the song. The song has been recorded by Roy Harris, Peter Bellamy, A. L. Lloyd, and others.

This YouTube video is an audio-only version of Peter Bellamy singing the song:

And here is another fine version by Peter Coe:

Song Notes:

Bill Brown TuneA ballad of poaching, revenge, and class warfare. Based on a true incident in Yorkshire in 1769, the story is set against the background of the “Enclosure Acts” (1760-1830). The Acts, which have been called acts of theft, caused common lands to be enclosed, to the benefit of the landlords and to the detriment of the common folk. The poacher, Bill Brown, was shot by a gamekeeper for exercising what would have been his rights before the acts. The poignance of the tale is that Bill Brown, The Gamekeeper, and the story teller (the avenger), knew each other, may have been friends, yet the gamekeeper carried out the task he was paid for. He shot Bill Brown.

Lyrics from website “Mainly Norfolk: English Folk and other Good Music”

A.L. Lloyd sings The Death of Bill Brown Peter Bellamy sings The Death of Bill Brown

You gentlemen, both great and small,
Gamekeepers, poachers, sportsmen all,
Come listen to me simple clown,
I’ll sing you the death of poor Bill Brown,
I’ll sing you the death of poor Bill Brown.

You gentlemen, both great and small,
Gamekeepers, poachers, sportsmen all,
Come listen to me simple clown,
I’ll sing you the death of poor Bill Brown,
I’ll sing you the death of poor Bill Brown.

One stormy night, as you shall hear,
‘Twas in the season of the year.
We went to the woods to catch a buck,
But in that night we had bad luck,
Bill Brown was shot and his dog was stuck.

One stormy night, as you shall hear,
It being the season of the year,
We went to the woods to catch a buck,
But in that night we had bad luck,
For Bill Brown was shot and down was struck.

Well, we got to the woods, our sport begun,
I saw the gamekeeper present his gun,
I called on Bill to climb the gate,
To get away, but it was too late,
For there he met his untimely fate.

Well, we got to the woods and our sport begun,
I saw the gamekeeper present his gun,
And I called on Bill to climb the gate,
And get away, but it was too late,
For there he met his untimely fate.

I know the man that shot Bill Brown,
I know him well and could tell a clown.
And to describe him in my song:
Black jacket he had and red waistcoat on;
I know him well and his name is Tom.

But I saw the man who shot Bill Brown,
I know him well and could tell the clown.
For to describe him in my song:
Black jacket he had and red waistcoat on;
I know him well and his name is Tom.

I dressed myself next night in time,
I got to the wood as the clock struck nine;
The reason was, and I’ll tell you why,
To find that gamekeeper I did go try,
Who shot my friend, and he shall die.

So I dressed myself next night in time
And I got to the wood as the clock struck nine;
The reason was, and I’ll tell you why,
For to find that gamekeeper I did go try,
Who shot my friend, and he shall die.

I ranged the woods all over, and then
I looked at my watch and it was just ten.
I heard a footstep on the green,
I hid myself for fear of being seen,
For I plainly saw it was Tom Green.

So I ranged the woods all over, and then
I looked at my watch and it was just ten.
I heard a footstep on the green,
So I hid myself for fear of being seen,
For I clearly saw that it was Tom Green.

I took my gun all in my hand,
Resolved to fire if Tom should stand;
Tom heard a noise and turned him round.
I fired and brought him to the ground,
My hand gave him his deep death wound.

So I took my gun all in my hand,
Resolved to fire if Tom should stand;
He heard the noise and turned him round.
I fired and brought him to the ground,
My hand gave him his deep death wound.

Now revenge, you see, my hopes has crowned.
I’ve shot the man that shot Bill Brown.
Poor Bill no more these eyes will see;
Farewell, dear friend, farewell to ye,
I’ve crowned your hopes and your memory.

So revenge, you see, my hopes has crowned.
I’ve shot the man that shot Bill Brown.
Poor Bill no more these eyes will see;
Farewell, old friend, farewell to thee,
I’ve crowned your hopes and your memory.

“The Death of Bill Brown” was published in Frank Kidson’s book of “Traditional Tunes.”

David Jones is a South East Londoner, born in 1934, who has been singing the old songs for many years. Earliest remembered folksongs are the “Lincolnshire Poacher” and “The Farmers Boy,” learned at school in the mid 1940s. He has sung in the USA more than anywhere else, but has made forays back to the UK, to Australia, and to parts of Europe. He has sung solo, and with a number of groups, and, on the way, has recorded several albums of folksongs. Now, he lives in Leonia, NJ, Gateway to the Golden West, with his wife Louise, and tries to be involved as much as possible with the NYC folk music scene. He has appeared in a number of NYC theater productions to favorable reviews. His last local performance was as Alfred P. Doolittle in “My Fair Lady.”

by Neville Marcano (a.k.a. Growling Tiger)
Introduced by Deborah Robins

Particularly now, this calypso song, which was widely performed in the 1950s, is, sadly, still relevant: the story of how the underclass is invisible while those with wealth can “commit murder, get off free, live in the Governor’s company…”.

I first heard this song performed on an album by the very young and wonderful Bob Gibson, a regular at my parents’ favorite local Chicago club, The Gate of Horn, and, later, by the composer, Trinidadian “Growling Tiger.”

According to Gibson, who was a friend and colleague of mine, his travels to the West Indies in the 1950s gleaned many songs which he transported to the states, “Money is King” among them. The original lyrics differ from those recorded by Gibson in 1956, with Gibson opting to replace island jargon. Alan Lomax recorded Marcano singing his signature song in 1962. See below for the original lyrics and two performances by Growling Tiger, and then below that for Gibson’s lyrics and performance.

Money is King (original lyrics)

If a man has money today
People do not care if he has cacobe [yaws, a tropical disease]
If a man has money today
People do not care if he has cacobe
He can commit murder and get off free
Live in the governor’s company
But if you are poor, people tell you “shoo”
And even dog is better than you

A man with money walks into a store
The boss will shake his hand at the door
Call ten clerks to write down everything
Suits, hats, whiskey, even diamond rings
Take them to your home on a motorbike
You can pay the bills whenever you like
And not a soul will ask you a thing
They know very well that money is king

A dog can walk about and take up bone
Foul head, stale bread, fish-tail and pone
If it’s a good breed and not too wild
Someone will take it and mind as a child
But when a hungry man goes out to beg
They will set a bulldog behind his leg
Twenty policemen will arrest him too
So you see when a dog is better than you

A man with collar and tie and waistcoat
Ask the chinaman to trust him acra and float
“Me no trus’am,” bawl out the chinaman“
You better get away from the frying pan”
“Me no college man, me no know ABC”
“You want acra, gi’am penny”
And the worms start to jump in the man’s belly
And he cries out, “A dog is better than me”

If a man have money and things going nice
Any woman will call him honey and spice
But if he can’t buy a dress or a new pair of shoes
She will say she’s got no uses for you
If you try to caress her, she will tell you “stop!”
“I can’t carry love in the grocery shop”
So most of you will agree it’s true
If you haven’t money, dog is better than you

A very rough live recording by the composer

A studio recording by the composer:

Bob Gibson’s version, link to his lyrics

Deborah Robins is an American Songster and presenter of old songs. She performs, records, and tours with husband and musical partner, the venerated Larry Hanks. She released her first solo CD, Lone Journey,” in 2016, and is at work on a second. Larry Hanks and Deborah Robins will be on staff at the upcoming TradMaD, in August; they tour US, UK, and Canada.

(There is Snow on Druinoehter)

Introduced by Sarah Grey

One of the attractions for me when I gravitate to a song or ballad is that perfect balance between the lyrics and the tune. You can remove the tune and still be left with an exquisite piece of poetry, and conversely, you can take away the lyrics and the tune will stand alone. This Gaelic song fulfills this for me. The tune evokes a strong nostalgia for me about Scotland and in particular, the Highlands and Islands, having lived there for so many years. The lyrics have the most unique format—almost mystical, plaintive—a true lament. The story behind this song is that of Fearchar Macklin Oig, a native of Kintail, Scotland, who shot the factor who had confiscated his wife’s kettle when she did not have money to give him for their rent. The song was prompted by Fearchar’s enforced fugitive status.

Editor’s Note:

February’s song is a Gaelic song introduced by Sara Grey. It is a traditional song sung by Donnie Murdo MacLeod from the Outer Hebrides, and here’s a recording made on Skye of Donnie singing it:

Lyrics

‘S gann nach gabhainn an t-eagal ro son mhac breabadair beio
Mharbhainn foil dhuit is sithionn laths nach figheadh an clo.

Mharbhainn foil dhuit is sithionn laths nach figheadh an clo.
Bheirinn feidh far a’mhonaidh bheirinn bric as na loin.

Bheirinn feidh far a’mhonaidh bheirinn bric as na loin.
Leis an t-sneachd bhiodh air m’theusaig ‘s gann gu leir dhomh mo bhrog.

Leis an t-sneachd bhiodh air m’theusaig ‘s gann gu leir dhomh mo bhrog.
‘S gann gu leir dhomh ni ‘s fhsisg orm na lorg athaf tha nam dhorn.

‘S gann gu leir dhomh ni ‘s fhsisg orm na lorg athaf tha nam dhorn.
Tha sneachd air Druim Uachdair far ‘n robh mi cuallach nam bo

Tha sneachd air Druim Uachdair far ‘n robh mi cuallach nam bo
‘S ann do nighean fear Donnchaidh a thug mi ‘n trornagahol ‘s mi og.

English Translation:

I hardly fear one living weaver’s son
I would kill for meat and venison for you on a day when the cloth would not be woven.

I would kill for meat and venison for you on a day when the cloth would not be woven.
I would bring deer from the moor and trout from the lochs.

I would bring deer from the moor and trout from the lochs.
With the snow which would be on my beard, I can hardly see my shoe.

With the snow which would be on my beard, I can hardly see my shoe.
I can hardly see anything close to me nor find the walking-stick in my hand.

I can hardly see any thing close to me nor find the walking-stick in my hand.
There is snow on Drumochter where I herded the cattle.

There is snow on Drumochter where I herded the cattle.
I fell heavily in love with the daughter of Duncan in my youth.

Sara Grey is a fine American singer, banjo player and song collector, who is immersed in the song traditions of both sides of the Atlantic. Her love affair with traditional songs for over 60 years has given her an incomparable knowledge of songs and ballads and how they have moved and evolved. She wants to gather the songs and pass them on to future generations so that they will have the pleasure of hearing and singing them just as she has. After living and singing in Britain for more than 45 years, Sara has returned to her native New England and is living in Maine with her husband Dave. She continues to tour actively, mostly with her son Kieron Means. See more about Sara.

Introduced by Judy Cook

Our song for this month is Dave Goulder’s “January Man.” It’s a song of fine images, insight into human nature, and just a hint of mysticism. We’re invited to contemplate the ever-circling years and our place in them. Dave wants to be sure folks sing the lyrics as he wrote them, and I know I’m not alone in wanting to hear this song sung more; this should help.

Here are the lyrics, the musical notation, and a bit of information about Dave Goulder. I love Ed Trickett’s singing of this song: simple, unaccompanied, very accessible. You’ll find a YouTube video (audio only) embedded below:

january man tune notationLyrics

The January man he walks abroad
In woollen coat and boots of leather
The February man still shakes the snow
From off his hair and blows his hands
The man of March he sees the Spring and
Wonders what the year will bring
And hopes for better weather

Through April rains the man goes down
To watch the birds come in to share the summer
The man of May stands very still
Watching the children dance away the day
In June the man inside the man is young
And wants to lend a hand
And grins at each new comer

And in July the man in cotton shirt
He sits and thinks on being idle
The August man in thousands takes the road
To watch the sea and find the sun
September man is standing near
To saddle up and lead the year
And Autumn is his bridle

The man of new October takes the reins
And early frost is on his shoulder
The poor November man sees fire and wind
And mist and rain and Winter air
December man looks through the snow
To let eleven brothers know
They’re all a little older

And the January man comes round again
In woollen coat and boots of leather
To take another turn and walk along
The icy road he knows so well
The January man is here for
Starting each and every year
Along the way forever

Dave Goulder was born in 1939 of a Derbyshire farming family — a railway footplate man, mountaineer, motorcyclist, classical music enthusiast, Spanish guitar player, mouth harp virtuoso, songwriter, poet, singer, hedge layer, junk sculptor, naturalist, community arts administrator, drystone walling Master Craftsman/instructor, ceilidh band member, failed mandolin player, and arthritic. He lives in Scotland.

Judy Cook is an author, entertainer, and folk-singer. She has been living in Oberlin, Ohio, with her husband Dennis since 2013. 2017 will be her 20th year touring throughout both Britain and the US. She is known for her repertoire and storytelling ability in ballad form. Judy has one book and several CDs. You can reach her through her web page.

Introduced by Lorraine Hammond

Our celebration of this “CDSS Year of Song” has kept us singing, and our “Song of the Month” has been a meaningful part of that celebration — a great new CDSS resource for songs. They are archived here, and ready for you to add to your own repertoire, each one chosen by a singer who treasures the choice they offered.

We began our “Song of the Month” year with Brendan Taaffe’s elegant “May It Fill Your Soul,” and we’ll close out the calendar with a round that speaks to the heart of this season, “Lamb and Lion.” It is a round in four parts that I wrote one wintry season as a holiday gift to tuck into the cards I was sending. It has found its way into the new Rise Again song compilation by Annie Patterson and Peter Blood, and Sol Weber’s Rounds Galore.

The audio below is from a recording by the wonderful songwriter and entertainer, Christine Lavin (with the Mistletones). Songs have an uncanny way of staying in circulation!

Lamb and Lion tune notation
Download a PDF of the notation

Lorraine Lee Hammond is a member of the CDSS board, a humanities lecturer at Lasell College in Newton, MA, and Music Director of WUMB-fm acoustic music week and weekend programs. She performs and records with her husband, guitarist Bennett Hammond.

Introduced by Katy German

One of my favorite things about the folk process is the way a song can reemerge in different forms over time. Whether accidental or intentional, changing some portion of melody or words can suddenly give a song new life and depth.

This song is a beautiful example. The melody is a simple and beautiful 19th century hymn, with alternative words from Eastern Kentucky singer and storyteller Randy Wilson. Randy kept the melody and some of the poetry from the traditional version, but mixed in phrases and language to give it a more universal spiritual appeal.

I first heard Randy sing his version of Farther On about a decade ago at Hindman Settlement School in Hindman, KY. At the time I thought it was a clever rewording and recognized its appeal as a soulful yet easy group singing option.

What I have found since then, though, is that this is the song that rises to my mind every single time I am feeling discouraged or low on hope. It is a meditation for my soul when I am feeling derailed. I asked Randy what inspired this version and he replied, “I liked the chorus and wanted to make a spiritual out of it, with repetition so that folks could join in easily.”

I guess sometimes it’s just as simple as that. Here is one of the traditional arrangements, along with Randy’s alternative lyrics. I’ve included both versions so that the readers and singers can enjoy it in more than one incarnation. And Randy, thank you for this beautiful song.

Farther On tune notation
Click for a larger image

Music: Traditional (not the first image)
New words: Randy Wilson, a musician, songwriter, and storyteller from Eastern, KY

Lyrics

Oh dear brothers, are you weary with the roughness of the way?
Search your soul and plant a seedling. Stir the ashes, seize the day.
Farther on, still go farther. Count the milestones one by one.
There’s a light that leads us onward. It is better farther on.

(Repeat, replacing “brothers” with sisters, mothers, fathers, children, etc.)

Here’s a version of the song by the Alaska String Band:

Katy German is a CDSS Board member living in Asheville, NC. She loves community singing and introducing children, families, and first-timers to country dance traditions.