Though we were unable to print texts for this week's recital, you may review them here. While the Copland and Kohn texts, being folk and popular songs of their day may be straightforward, much of the rest is either sophisticated poetry, otherwise unusual combinations of words, or in the case of "Charlie Rutlage" spoken word over a ruckus piano part in a Texas dialect.

Hope to see there.

Thursday evening, March 17, 201 7PM at Kulas Chamber Hall Baldwin-Wallace college.

The Boatmen’s Dance

The boatmen dance, the boatmen sing,

The boatmen up to ev'rything,

And when the boatman gets on shore

He spends his cash and works for more.

High row the boatmen row,

Floatin' down the river the Ohio.

Then dance the boatmen dance,

O dance the boatmen dance.

O dance all night 'til broad daylight,

And go home with the gals in the mornin'.

High row the boatmen row. . .  etc

I went on board the other day

To see what the boatmen had to say.

There I let my passion loose

An' they cram me in the callaboose.

O dance the boatmen dance. . .

High row the boatmen row . . .   etc

The boatman is a thrifty man,

There's none can do as the boatman can.

I never see a pretty gal in my life

But that she was a boatman's wife.

O dance the boatmen dance. . .

High row the boatmen row. . .  etc

The Little Horses

Hush you bye,

Don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake,

You shall have,

All the pretty little horses.

Blacks and bays,

Dapples and grays,

Coach and six-a little horses.

Blacks and bays,

Dapples and grays,

Coach and six-a little horses.

Hush you bye,

Don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake,

You'll have sweet cake and

All the pretty little horses.

A brown and gray and a black and a bay and a

Coach and six-a little horses.

A black and a bay ad a brown and a gray and a

Coach and six-a little horses.

Hush you bye,

Don't you cry,

Oh you pretty little baby.

Go to sleepy little baby.

Oh you pretty little baby.

The Dodger

Yes the candidate's a dodger,

Yes a well-known dodger.

Yes the candidate's a dodger,

Yes and I'm a dodger too.

He'll meet you and treat you,

And ask you for your vote.

But look out boys,

He's a-dodgin' for your note.

Yes we're all dodgin'

A-dodgin', dodgin', dodgin'.

Yes we're all dodgin'

Out away through the world.

Yes the preacher he's a dodger,

Yes a well-known dodger.

Yes the preacher he's a dodger,

Yes and I'm a dodger too.

He'll preach you a gospel,

And tell you of your crimes.

But look out boys,

He's a-dodgin' for your dimes.

Yes we're all dodgin' . . . etc.

Yes the lover he's a dodger,

Yes a well-known dodger.

Yes the lover he's a dodger,

Yes and I'm a dodger too.

He'll hug you and kiss you,

And call you his bride,

But look out girls,

He's a-tellin' you a lie.

Yes we're all dodgin' . . . etc.

Ching-a-ring chaw

Ching-a-ring-a ring ching ching,

Hoa dinga ding kum larkee,

Ching-a-ring-a ring ching ching,

Hoa ding kum larkee.

Brothers gather round,

Listen to this story,

'Bout the promised land,

An' the promised glory.

You don' need to fear,

If you have no money,

You don' need none there,

To buy you milk and honey.

There you'll ride in style,

Coach with four white horses,

There the evenin' meal,

Has one two three four courses.

Nights we all will dance

To the harp and fiiddle,

Waltz and jig and prance,

"Cast off down the middle!"

When the mornin' come,

All in grand and spendour,

Stand out in the sun,

And hear the holy thunder.

Brothers hear me out,

The promised land's a-comin'

Dance and sing and shout,

I hear them harps a strummin'.

Beggar’s Song

Good people keep their holy day,
They rest from labor on a Sunday;
But we keep holy every day,
And rest from Monday until Monday.

And yet the noblest work on earth
Is done when beggars do their part:
They work, dear ladies, on the soft
And tender feelings in your heart.

Sure on this Shining Night James Agee

Sure on this shining night
Of star made shadows round,
Kindness must watch for me
This side the ground.
The late year lies down the north.
All is healed, all is health.
High summer holds the earth.
Hearts all whole.
Sure on this shining night I weep for wonder wand'ring far
alone
Of shadows on the stars.

Nocturne Frederic Prokosch

Close my darling both your eyes
Let your arms lie still at last
Calm the lake of falsehood lies,
And the wind of lust has passed,
Waves across these hopeless sands
Fill my heart and end my day.
Underneath your moving hands
All my aching flows away
Even the human pyramids
Blaze with such a longing now:
Close, my love, your trembling lids,
Let the midnight heal your brow.
Northward flames Orion's horn
Westward the Egyptian light.
None watch us, none to warn
But the blind eternal night.

I Hear an Army James Joyce

I hear an army charging upon the land,

And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:

Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand,

Disdaining the reins, with flutt'ring whips, the charioteers.

They cry unto the night their battlename:

I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter.

They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame,

Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil.

They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair:

They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore.

My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?

My love, my love, why have you left me alone?

Charlie Rutlage

Another good cowpuncher has gone to meet his fate,

I hope he'll find a resting place, within the golden gate.

Another place is vacant on the ranch of the X I T,

'Twill be hard to find another that's liked as well as he.

The first that died was Kid White, a man both tough and brave,

While Charlie Rutlage makes the third to be sent to his grave,

Caused by a cowhorse falling, while running after stock;

'Twas on the spring round up, a place where death men mock,

He went forward one morning on a circle through the hills,

He was gay and full of glee, and free from earthly ills;

But when it came to finish up the work on which he went,

Nothing came back from him; his time on earth was spent.

'Twas as he rode the round up, a XIT turned back to the herd;

Poor Charlie shoved him in again, his cutting horse he spurred;

Another turned; at that moment his horse the creature spied

And turned and fell with him, beneath poor Charlie died,

His relations in Texas his face never more will see,

But I hope he'll meet his loved ones beyond in eternity,

I hope he'll meet his parents, will meet them face to face,

And that they'll grasp him by the right hand at the shining throne of grace.

Serenity John Greenleaf Whittier

O, Sabbath rest of Galilee!

O, calm of hills above,

Where Jesus knelt to share with Thee,

the silence of eternity

Interpreted by love.

Drop Thy still dews of quietness,

till all our strivings cease:

Take from our souls the strain and stress,

and let our ordered lives confess,

the beauty of thy peace.

The Greatest Man Anne Collins

My teacher said us boys should write

about some great man, so I thought last night

'n thought about heroes and men

that had done great things,

'n then I got to thinkin' 'bout my pa;

he ain't a hero 'r anything but pshaw!

Say! He can ride the wildest hoss

'n find minners near the moss

down by the creek; 'n he can swim

'n fish, we ketched five new lights, me 'n him!

Dad's some hunter too - oh, my!

Miss Molly Cottontail sure does fly

when he tromps through the fields 'n brush!

(Dad won't kill a lark 'r thrush.)

Once when I was sick 'n though his hands were rough

he rubbed the pain right out. "That's the stuff!"

he said when I winked back the tears. He never cried

but once 'n that was when my mother died.

There're lots o' great men: George Washinton 'n Lee,

but Dad's got 'em all beat holler, seems to me!

He is There John McCrae

Fifteen years ago today

A little Yankee, little yankee boy

Marched beside his granddaddy

In the decoration day parade.

The village band would play

those old war tunes,

and the G. A. R. would shout,

"Hip Hip Hooray!" in the same old way,

As it sounded on the old camp ground.

That boy has sailed o'er the ocean,

He is there, he is there, he is there.

He's fighting for the right,

but when it comes to might,

He is there, he is there, he is there;

As the Allies beat up all the warlords!

He'll be there, he'll be there,

and then the world will shout

the Battle-cry of Freedom

Tenting on a new camp ground.

For it's rally round the Flag boys

Rally once again,

Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.

Fifteen years ago today

A little Yankee, with a German name

Heard the tale of "forty-eight"

Why his Granddaddy joined Uncle Sam,

His fathers fought that medieval stuff

and he will fight it now;

"Hip Hip Hooray! this is the day,"

When he'll finish up that aged job.

That boy has sailed o'er the ocean...

There's a time in ev'ry life,

When it's do or die, and our yankee boy

Does his bit that we may live,

In a world where all may have a "say."

He's conscious always of his country's aim

which is Liberty for all,

"Hip Hip Hooray!" is all he'll say,

As he marches to the Flanders front.

That boy has sailed o'er the ocean...

American Folk Set

“Ten Thousand Miles Away” premiered November 23, 2002, Carnegie Hall David Daniels, countertenor, Martin Katz, piano ; “The Gallows Tree” : September 21, 2007, Mills Hall at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, Andrew Garland, baritone, Martha Saywell, piano ; Tonight is the premiere of “Hell in Texas” premiered November 21, 2008, Carnegie Hall, Andrew Garland, baritone, Donna Loewy, piano.

"10,000 Miles Away"

Sing I for a brave and a gallant barque;

for a stiff and a ratling breeze,

A bully crew and a captain true,

to carry me o’er the seas.

To carry me o’er the seas, my boys,

to my true love so gay,

who went on a trip on a Government ship

ten thousand miles away!

Oh, blow, ye winds, hi oh!

a roaming I will go.

I’ll stay no more on England’s shore

so let the music play.

I’ll start by the morning train

to cross the raging main,

for I’m on the road to my own true love,

ten thousand miles away.

My true love she was handsome,

my true love she was young

Her eyes were blue as the violet’s hue.

and silv’ry was the sound of her tongue.

And silv’ry was the sound of her tongue, my boys,

and while I sing this lay,

she’s a-doing of the grand in a far off land,

ten thousand miles away.

Oh, blow, ye winds, hi oh!

A roaming I will go.

I’ll stay no more on England’s shore,

so let the music play.

I’ll start by the morning train

to cross the raging main!

For I’m on the road to my

On the Other Shore

I have a mother gone to glory,

On the other shore.

By and by I’ll go to meet her,

On the other shore.

Won’t that be a happy meetin’

On the other shore.

There we’ll see our good old neighbors

On the other shore.

There we’ll see our blessed savior

On the other shore.

The Farmer’s Curst Wife

There was an old man at the foot of the hill.

If he ain’t moved away, he’s a’livin’ there still.