12,306 research outputs found
It was on one Sunday morning,
No full textvoiceColl. by
Mary Jo Davis
For M . C. Parler
Sung by Marie Washam
DeValls Bluff. Arkansas
June 8, 1954
Reel 190
Item 4
The Deep Blue Sea
It was on one Sunday morning,
About the hour of three,
When my darling started to leave me,
And sail upon the deep blue sea.
He promised to write me a letter,
he promised to write to me,
But I haven't heard from my darling,
Since he sailed upon the deep blue sea.
Oh captain, can you tell me,
Can you tell me where he may be,
Oh yes, my fair young maiden,
He drowned in the deep blue sea.
So farewell friends, and relations,
It's the last you'll see of me,
I'm going to end my troubles,
By drowning in the deep blue sea.Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
Barefoot days, when you were just a kid,
No full textvoiceColl. by
Mary Jo Davis
For M.C. Parler
Sung by Mrs. Marie Washam
DeValls Bluffy Arkansas
June 8, 1954
Reel 190
Item 3
Barefoot Days
I can remember, how g lad we used to be,
When Mom and Daddy, would buy new shoes for me,
That's a feeling you've all had,
How new shoes would make you glad,
But the best time if you'll recall,
Is when you had no shoes at all.
Refrain:
Barefoot days, when you were just a kid,
Barefoot days, oh boy, the things you did,
You'd go down to a shady nook, with a bent pin for a hook,
Fish all day, fish til night, the darned old fish refused to bite,
Then how you'd slide down some old cellar door,
You'd slide, and slide, 'til your pants got tore,
Then you had to go home and stay in the bed,
'Til your mama got busy with a needle and thread,
OOh boy, what joy, we had in barefoot days.
We were so happy, 'til Sunday came along,
That was the one day, when everything went wrong,
All dressed up as stiff as starch,
Off to church we had to march,
And no wonder we had the blues,
Because we had to wear our shoes.
Refrain:Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
That eastbound train was crowded,
No full textvoiceColl. by
Mary Jo Davis
For M. C. Parler
Sung by Marie Washam
DeValls Bluff, Arkansas
June 14, 1954
Reel 193
Item 1
The Eastbound Train
That eastbound train was crowded,
One cold December day,
The conductor shouted, tickets,
In his old timed fashioned way.
A little girl in sadness,
Her hair as bright as gold,
Then said, I have no ticket,
And then her story told.
My father he's in prison,
He's lost his sight they say,
I'm going for his pardon,
This cold December day.
My brother and my sister,
Would both be very glad,
If I could only bring back,
My poor dear old blind dad.
My mother's daily sewing,
To try to earn our bread,
My poor dear old blind father,
Is in prison, almost dead.
The conductor wad dumbfounded,
He could not make a reply,
Then taking his hand and wiping,
The teardrops from his eye.
He said, God bless you, little one,
Just stay right where you are,
You'll never need a ticket,
While I am on this car.Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
Draw nigh, young men, pray lend attention,
No full textvoiceColl. by
Mary Jo Davis
For M. C. Parler
Sung by Marie Washam
DeValls Bluff, Arkansas
June 13, 1954
Reel 192
Item 1
Love Affair
Draw nigh, young men, pray lend attention,
To this story I'm about to write,
Of a fair young man I will make mention,
Who courted a charming beauty bright.
And when his parents came to know it,
They strived to part them night and day,
To part him from his own dear loved one,
She's poor, she's poor, they'd often say.
The lady being young and witty,
Not knowing what she had to go through,
She strolled down to the organ city,
Where pleasant groves of shades to view.
She strolled down by the organ city,
Placed herself beneath a tree,
Says, will I now or will I ever,
Or nevermore, my true love see?
Then she took out a silver dagger,
She pierced it through her tender breast,
These words she spoke just as she staggered,
Farewell sweetheart, I'm going to rest.
Her sweetheart lying just in a thicket,
Not that his lover was near,
He ran, he ran, like one distracted,
Crying, have I quite lost my dear?
Where are you going, my own dear fair one,
Where are you going with all your charms,
Is there no gold, no friend can save you,
While you lie fainting in my arms?
Just then her sloe-black eyes she opened.
She said, my darling, you've come too late,
Prepare to meet me in old Zion,
There our love can be complete.
Then he picked up the bloody dagger,
He pierced it through his throbbing heart,
Said, let this be a dreadful warning,
To all true lovers never part.Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
In a little Knoxville town I used to live and dwell.
No full textvoiceColl. by
Mary Jo Davis
For M. C. Parler
Sung by Marie Washam and
J. R. Crymes
DeValls Bluff, Arkansas
June 13, 1954
Reel 191
Item 5
The Knoxville Girl
In a little Knoxville town I used to live and dwell.
And in that little Knoxville town I owned a flour mill,
I fell in love with a Knoxville girl with dark and rolling eyes,
She promised me she'd marry me, if her I'd never deny.
I called her at her sister's house at six o'clock one day,
I asked her take a walk with me, and name our wedding day,
We walked along, we talked along, 'til we came to level ground,
Then I picked up hedgewood stick and I knocked that fair girl down,
She fell upon her bending knees, 0 Lord have mercy, she cried,
Oh Willie, my dear, don't murdur me here, for I'm not prepared to die.
Never, never a word I said, I beat her more and more,
I beat her 'til the ground around stood in a bloody gore,
I took her by her yellow hair, and I swung her round and 'round,
I threw her in the still water deep, that flows through Knoxville town.
Along about six, they found her, the Knoxville girl was found,
Floating down the still water deep, that flows through Knoxville town,
Her sister swore my life away, she swore without a doubt,
She swore I was the very lad, that laid her sister out.
So now they're going to hang me, a death I hate to die,
They're going to hang me up so high, between the earth and sky.Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
Interview: Anne-Marie Fortier
Get PDFThis paper is an edited version of an email interview conducted by Debra Ferreday and Adi Kuntsman with Anne-Marie Fortier, the author of Multicultural Horizons: Diversity and the Limits of the Civil Nation (Routledge, 2008). Fortier’s work has been informative in the development of some of the arguments explored in this special issue; in their conversation Ferreday and Kuntsman asked her to comment on the ideas of haunting, racial imaginaries, nostalgia, national anxieties, political feelings and hopes for the future
Beholder halfway #25: beyond unwanted sound with Marie Thompson
No full textOn this month's episode I discuss the recent book Beyond Unwanted Sound: Noise, Affect and Aesthetic Moralism with its author, Marie Thompson. We discuss different conceptions of 'noise', as anti-music or the cacophony of industrial society, competing theories of noise and Marie's powerful argument that noise is neither inherently bothersome nor transgressive. We end by discussing some of the musicians and sound artists that Marie argues transcend the dominant morality by which noise is related to.</p
Marie-Rose: She Who Believed in Tomorrow: The Story of the Foundress of the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary (Expanded Edition 2015)
No full text40 leaves; a brief history of Mother Marie-Rose, née Eulalie Durocher, and her life of service
Précisions sur les vagues/On Waves
No full textPowerful and poetic prose meditation on oceanic energy by French author, Marie Darrieussecq. Translated from the French by Peter Schulman, ODU Professor of French and International Studies.https://digitalcommons.odu.edu/worldlanguages_books/1022/thumbnail.jp
Wilhelmina Marie Williamson Lambourne
No full textWilhelmina Marie Williamson Lambourne was the wife of Alfred Lambourne, a Utah artist, author, and poet
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