Converted: A New Music CD from James W. Knox

emmanuel

This is the historic song The Lakes Of Pontchartrain.

No matter how far back you go in search of the origin of this beautiful song, there is another older tale waiting there. The unrequited love a wandering man had for a Louisiana Creole girl was sung throughout the southern United States in the 19th century. It is believed that the tune was probably brought by soldiers fighting for the British or French armies in Louisiana and Canada in the War of 1812.

There is a very similar tune with altogether different lyrics found in the music of the Scots, in the border song Jock O’Hazeldean. When the song went west the cowboys sang On the Lake of the Poncho Plains and the Creole girl was changed to a Cree Indian. That version is found in Singing Cowboy; A Book of Western Songs collected and edited by Margaret Larkin, circa 1931.

There are also many versions of another folk song The Lily of The West which use this tune at a quicker pace.

‘Twas on one bright calm evening beneath a sky of wonder
As the humble shepherds gave no heed to the stars they wandered under
When suddenly upon their ears an angelic chorus fell
To you is born in a manger worn a babe called Emmanuel

With gifts both rich and rare those wise men traveled from afar
But knowledge could not guide them so they trusted that mystery star
They found not what they sought in the palace where the king did dwell
In a humble home they bowed alone before the child called Emmanuel

The doctors in the temple sat and debated fine points of law
Jot and tittles and binding commands were all their blind eyes saw
Till a young man solved their riddles and astonished them with the things he did tell
This lad of twelve years aroused their fears they faced a boy called Emmanuel

John was power and John was light and blazed through the nation like fire
His axe he laid to a tree long dead and smote it with zeal and desire
As the Jordan raced around his robes the straight path he readied so well
Til upon the shore stood one angels adore the man called Emmanuel

To try and tell of the wonders He wrought would surely be in vain
But he healed the sick, the deaf, the blind, He called the dead to life again
His radiant love shone through the land and His mercy did sorrow dispel
Revealed to all bruised by the fall was a redeemer called Emmanuel

See the tears and blood flow mingled down that torn and battered face
See the gaping wounds in his back and sides and marvel at the grace
While reprobate rulers and jealous men and cowards who lived to rebel
Mocked and cried before them died their sacrifice called Emmanuel

As the dew descended on the hills and the shadows gave way to the dawn
The stone was rolled from the silent tomb and death’s power and sting were gone
From that garden to the very ends of this sad earth the good news did swell
At the Father’s right hand, lives the Son of man, the Savior called Emmanuel

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john the baptist

This song has taken its place in history as Little Moses.

A. P. Carter said he learned this song from his aunt, Myrtle Bays, who learned it from her mother. No one knows how far back it goes, but it has been sung by nearly everyone. The Carter Family recorded it in 1929.

Away by the waters so swift
A stern man his voice he did lift
To the people everywhere the man in camel’s hair
Did make known God’s wonderful gift
Do flee from the dark
Was his bold remark
For Messiah soon would be there

Standing in the water so blue
The prophet gave instruction to
Soldiers and publicans humble folk and noble men
He told them just what to do
From wrath it was he
Who told them to flee
While he baptized again and again

On the banks of the waters where John
Stood preaching the people pressed on
Asking him questions and seeking directions
Excitement in the nation did dawn
And He preached the good news
Of the Savior whose shoes
He was not fit to strap on

One day by the waters so bright
John thrilled at the wonderful sight
The Lamb stood before Him come to take away all sin
And the Father spoke His delight
As John immersed Him
And the dove did descend
Upon Jesus the hope of all men

Those waters roll on to this day
Though old John was carried away
But he was victorious, his hope was most glorious
There was truth in all he did say
When his spirit did cease,
he departed in peace
And he lives on in heaven above

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got to tell

This began as Dink’s Song.

The first historical record of the song was by John Lomax in 1908, who recorded it as sung by a woman called Dink, as she washed clothes in a tent camp of migratory levee builders on the bank of the Brazos River, a few miles from College Station, Texas. The song tells the story of a pregnant woman deserted by her lover when she needs him the most.

It has been recorded as Fare Thee Well by many folk revival musicians.

It was funeral time in the town of Nain
But Jesus raised my boy to life again
Got to tell, everybody, I’ve got to tell

While sitting high in the sycamore tree
He said come down and He dined with me
Got to tell, everybody, I’ve got to tell

Was begging blind down by Siloam
Now I can see all the way back home
Got to tell, everybody, I’ve got to tell

Came through the roof, shoulda heard them talk
When Jesus told me, rise up and walk
Got to tell, everybody, I’ve got to tell

That leprosy kept me from my kin
Then the Lord gave me a sweet baby’s skin
Got to tell, everybody, I’ve got to tell

All those long days with a withered hand
Then Messiah made me a brand new man
Got to tell, everybody, I’ve got to tell

Through twelve long years I sought so much
For what Jesus did with just one touch
Got to tell, everybody, I’ve got to tell

My possessed rage chains could not bind
Then the Holy One made me sound in mind
Got to tell, everybody, I’ve got to tell

Compassion’s heart and a healing hand
The Son of God and the Son of Man
Got to tell, everybody, I’ve got to tell

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raising lazarus

This is the traditional ballad Black Jack Davey.

This is a song, or dozens of songs, telling of a wealthy woman who runs away with a gypsy lad. The earliest known version of this song may be The Gypsy Loddy, published in the Roxburghe Ballads with an assigned date of 1720. A nearly identical song was published in Allan Ramsay’s Tea-Table Miscellany in 1740, under the name The Gypsy Johnny Faa.

In the folk tradition the song was extremely popular, and spread all over the English-speaking world under a great many titles, including Black Jack Davy, The Gypsy Laddie, The Draggletail Gypsies, Seven Yellow Gypsies and Johnnie Faa.

The song was also published in books. Robert Burns used one set of the lyrics in his Reliques of Robert Burns; consisting chiefly of original letters, poems, and critical observations on Scottish songs (1808).

Jesus got word that a friend of His Lay sick and was dying
By the time he got to Bethany Everyone was crying Everyone was crying

His sister said reproachfully His sister said through her tears
My brother would not have died Lord if you had been here Lord if you had been here

I am the resurrection and I am the life said Jesus
Roll the stone away but they Said Master do not tease us Master do not tease us

Four days dead or a thousand years Does not hinder my power
But so that you might believe I’ll raise my friend this hour I’ll raise my friend this hour

Come forth now dear Lazarus Come rejoin the living
He burst forth bound hand and foot
To gladness and thanksgiving Such gladness and thanksgiving

There alive stood Lazarus They loosed him from his grave clothes
The Pharisees were furious
But that’s the way the wind blows Yes that’s the way the wind blows.

So Jesus dined with a man once dead And Martha she did serve Him
Mary worshipped at His feet And none of them deserved Him None of them deserved Him

When it comes my time to die When they lay me in the cold ground
That dark grave can only hold me Until Jesus comes round Until Jesus comes round

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only a leper

This song is actually many songs.

It most likely goes back to Only a Tramp composed by Addison Crabtree and published in 1877. This was a song about Jesus taking all of one’s possessions so that one could understand the sorrow of a man sleeping in the gutter. The first verse of the song tells about a night watchman finding, dead on the street, a tramp who, according to a coroner, had died of starvation. In typical Victorian fashion, in the second verse the composer asks the listener, “If Jesus was here and asked at your door/A place to rest in, and food from your store/As once he thus wander’d with poverty’s stamp/Would you turn Him away as only a tramp?”

Gospel singer / songwriter Grady Cole turned the song into A Tramp on The Street and his 1939 recording would turn into a country gospel classic.

About the same time the tune and theme show up in the form of Railroading on the Great Divide, a different type of lament about the hardship of a poor man’s life.

It has appeared as Only a Miner Killed, Poor Miner’s Farewell, Only a Hobo, etc. All of these use the same basic tune and theme – tragic life and hopeless death. We rejoice to have a happy ending to the story told here.

A leper was watching the old road one day
When he saw a commotion a-coming his way
He lifted his voice with a desperate roar
For his living was dying and his misery was sore.
Only a leper ‘til Christ came along
One more to suffer in a world that’s gone wrong
Having nobody, seemed all hope was gone
He was only a leper ‘til Christ came along

Cut off from his children, his home and his wife
Disease and depression consuming his life
Though many might pity, no help could be found
Til one day the power of Jesus came round

He started off running, his eyes filled with tears,
To embrace the family he had not held for years
Then stopped in his tracks, he could not be so rude
He ran back to the Lord to express gratitude
No longer a leper til Christ came along
One more delivered in a world that’s gone wrong
Having nobody, seemed all hope was gone
No longer a leper since Christ came along

I too was living with a soul-killing plague
Wearing me down, dragging me to my grave
Unclean and unholy without and within
When I called out to Jesus who cleansed me from sin
Only a leper ‘til Christ came along
One more to suffer in a world that’s gone wrong
Having nobody, seemed all hope was gone
No longer a leper since Christ came along

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midnight in the garden

This is the beautiful Down by the Salley Gardens.
Take your pick on this one. There is a song named Rose Connelly published in Coleraine in 1811, there is Down in the Willow Garden that has been sung in Appalachia since unknown times, and there is a poem set to the tune called Down by the Salley Gardens written by William Butler Yates published in 1899 that all bear strong resemblance to one another. Each seem to derive from the Irish balled The Rambling Boys of Pleasure. (Salley or sally comes from the Gaelic word saileach which means willow.)

With slight variations this was a murder ballad about a man to be hanged for having poisoned his lover, stabbing her, and throwing her into a river. The lyrics vary greatly from version to version but not the general theme.

The song seemed well known through the Appalachian region but not beyond. There is a record of its popularity in Wetzel County, West Virginia in 1895, and of its being sung in Virginia and Western North Carolina in 1915 and 1918. It is closely akin to The Wexford Girl and Knoxville Girl.

Yeats’ poem was set to music in 1909 when Herbert Hughes put it to the old Irish melody The Maids of Mourne Shore.

The first known recording of the song was in 1927. Charlie Monroe’s 1947 record made it popular from that day forward.

It was midnight in the garden,
when love and death did meet.
The Lord had come in the darkness,
to pray at His Father’s feet.
He cried with tears of passion,
as His friends fell fast asleep.
While His sweat and blood did mingle,
how the Son of Man did weep.

With tears and crying Jesus,
the weight of our sin did face.
And the God-man’s apprehensions
were outweighed by His grace.
Father let this cup pass from me,
was the plea from His holy heart.
Yet if by this I must satisfy You
then let not this drink depart.

It was in that ancient garden,
mercy and truth did kiss.
Justice and grace in collision
brought the beloved Son to this.
He would take our sins in His body
and suffer for them on the tree
The death He would die at Calvary
fell on Him in Gethsemane.

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the streets of jerusalem

This is the converted version of The Streets of Laredo.

It is amazing how many variations there are on this song. It seems to be primarily descended from a British folk song of the late 18th century called The Unfortunate Rake, which also evolved (with a time signature change and completely different melody) into the New Orleans standard St. James Infirmary Blues.

The British ballad shares a melody with the British sea-song Spanish Ladies. The Bodleian Library, Oxford, has copies of a nineteenth-century broadside entitled The Unfortunate Lad, which is another version of the song, elements of which closely presage those in the Streets of Laredo and the St. James Infirmary Blues.

The original tale was of a young man dying from venereal diseases he got from frequenting houses of prostitution. The American version, known as The Cowboy’s Lament, first told a similar story but in the 1950s was sanitized and altered to make it the death plea of a young gunfighter.

It is said that at one time The Unfortunate Rake had seventy verses, which probably kept it off the radio.

As Jesus looked down on the streets of Jerusalem
As Jesus looked down on the city below
He longed for to gather them into His bosom
But try as He might they would not have it so.

He saw their processions, He saw their religion
He saw their vain priests and their love for a lie
And though they deserved His wrath and his fury
In mercy and grace for them all He would die.

They hired a devil, they paid to betray Him
The cruel wicked judge found no fault at all
They hit Him they whipped Him they spit, and they stripped him
They led Him with criminals to die outside the wall.

Oh, drag your feet slowly, ye proud and ye lowly
Weep and lament as you follow Him along
Nail Him to the old tree, wash your hands vainly
But in three days you will know you’ve done wrong.

The strong arms of soldiers drove the nails deeply
They hoisted the cross and it slammed in the ground
The thorn crown adorned Him, and a dying thief scorned Him
With jeers and derision men bid Him come down.

The lamb hung in silence ignoring their hatred
The lamb hung in shame bearing all of their sin
How little did they know the great price their children
Would pay through the years till He comes back again.

Oh, drag your feet slowly, ye proud and ye lowly
Weep in the green tree as you follow him along
Nail him to the old tree, wash your hands vainly
But in three days you will know you’ve done wrong.

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he died of love

This is the tune known most popularly as Railroad Boy.

We have to start with The Butcher’s Boy, an American folk song derived from traditional English ballads, which song is itself a conglomeration of several English broadside ballads, tracing its stanzas to Sheffield Park, The Squire’s Daughter, A Brisk Young Soldier, and Sweet William (The Sailor Boy). In the song, a butcher’s apprentice (or soldier, or sailor) abandons his lover, or is unfaithful toward her. The lover hangs herself and is discovered by her father. She leaves a suicide note, which prescribes that she be buried with a turtle dove placed upon her breast, to show the world she died for love. This narrative use of the turtle dove is derived from Old World symbolism; it is analogous to the folksong interment motif of a rose, briar, or lily growing out of the neighboring graves of deceased lovers.

Somewhere in the United States during the 1800’s the butcher’s boy changed jobs and went to work on the railroads.

He climbed the hill he wore the crown
Of twisted thorn and the blood ran down
upon His precious battered face
and they hung Him there in full disgrace.

His hands and feet took the piercing nails
His broken heart took the full travail
As He bore each grief and He bore each tear
The Father’s wrath on the Son so dear.

Like a spring time field his back was plowed
in silent sorrow His head was bowed
the bulls of Bashan gathered round
the mocking crowd cursed Him from the ground.

Oh Father, Father, why hast thou
forsaken me when I need you now?
the light did vanish from the skies
as the smitten Lamb was sacrificed.

On the cross where He was made sin
The sign above Him could have been
He was the Savior from above
Come into the world to die of love.

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adoration

This we take from the famous Mary Hamilton.

The Four Marys and Mary Hamilton are common names for a well-known sixteenth-century ballad from Scotland based on an apparently fictional incident about a lady-in-waiting to a Queen of Scotland or, possibly, to Catherine I of Russia.

In all versions of the song, Mary Hamilton is a personal attendant to a Queen. She becomes pregnant by the Queen’s husband, which results in the birth of a baby. Mary kills the infant – in some versions by casting it out to sea or by drowning, and in others by exposure. The crime is witnessed, and she is convicted. The ballad recounts Mary’s thoughts about her life and her impending death in a first-person narrative.

The earliest written record of the song is from 1790. Variations are found with names including The Purple Dress, Mary Mild, and The Duke o’ York’s Dother (dother being old English for a washer woman or a maid).

It is strange how so many of these folk songs are gruesome tales of treachery and death. Reminds one of the fairy tales and nursery rhymes.

The full set of lyrics is posted here, though all were not used on this recording.

The women came with their perfumes before the break of day
Through tear-filled eyes to their surprise they found the stone rolled away.

They saw a man in white array He spoke to calm their fear
Why seek the living among the dead You will not find Him here.

When others ran to see the place Where Jesus had been lain
They found the grave clothes left behind He never would need them again.

Ascended now to the Father’s side pure judgment and pure grace
Perfect love and perfect power Find those who do look on His face.

Glory, honor and majesty clothe the lovely Son
He reigns triumphant over all the work of redemption is done.

Holy is the constant cry of creatures round the throne
And in the praise of Jesus Christ join all for whom He did atone.

At the Father’s side the great high priest holds the keys of death and hell
E’en the rulers in the shadow worlds know He doeth all things well.

Upholding all things by His word where He forever reigns
The sun, the moon, the stars do course in pathways which He ordains.

He feeds the sparrow and guides the beasts He sets bounds for the sea
The seasons flow, the rain and the snow follow His wise decree.

With the emerald rainbow encircling His throne of brilliant white
His kindness and His compassion fill every clean heart with delight.

Holy is the constant cry of creatures round the throne
And in the praise of Jesus Christ the seraphs are not alone.

Glory, honor and majesty clothe the lovely Son
He reigns triumphant over all, the work of redemption is done.

Perfect love and perfect power, pure judgment and pure grace
Are seen by those blessed to draw nigh and look into His face.

In triumph the beloved conqueror holds the keys of death and hell
E’en the rulers in the shadow worlds know He doeth all things well.

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arise my love

This is from the haunting Lowlands of Holland.

This is a British folk song which tells the story of a young man forced to join the navy on his wedding night. The tune is thought to be of Scottish origin, although variants occur throughout the British Isles. Though there are many sets of lyrics, the song generally describes how the young man is conscripted and how his wife refuses to adorn herself or marry again. It sometimes includes a verse where the wife’s mother advises her to find a new partner, a description of Holland, or an account of the man’s ship sinking.

The song likely originated during the Anglo-Dutch Wars in the 17th century, and enjoyed revivals in popularity during the Wars of Louis XIV and the Napoleonic Wars. In some versions, the vegetation mentioned indicates that Holland may have become conflated with Dutch colonies in the West Indies, or with New Holland, an early name for Australia.

One night as I was reading the scriptures I did see
a promise that the Lord Himself was coming back for me
with a shout he would descend and then the dead in Christ would rise
and those who had remained alive would join them up in the skies.

Well I ran to tell my friends the news, And some did not believe
that the shepherd from on high would come His little flock to receive.
But faster than one’s eye can blink we’ll meet Him in the air
And He shall escort his chosen bride to the place that He did prepare

Oh the sorrows of the present hour shall never come to mind
And the grief and pain which hold us fast shall all be left behind
our bodies shall be changed so that no trace of sin remains
And with the saints of all the age we shall praise Him again and again

How many times since that first night those words have calmed my fear
And I know that with each passing day His call is drawing near
Arise my love and come away and dwell with me on high
Where in a land of love and light we’ll live and never die.

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hard times

The first person who urged me write rhymes was my fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Frances Chandler. We would have weekly sessions were she played me the songs of Stephen Collins Foster and explained to me their meter and rhythm. Odd.

This song was published in New York in 1854 in Foster’s Melodies No. 28 and one could not count the number of persons who have sung or recorded it since.

Let us pause in life’s pleasure and count its many tears
Let us all sup sorrow with the poor
There’s a call that has lingered throughout the troubled years
When will hard times come again no more?

It’s the song, the sigh of the weary
When will hard times come again no more?
Every day every hour from the highlands to the shore
Oh hard times come again no more.

See the very first mother standing by the grave
Of her son who she loved and did adore.
And with each death that’s followed beneath sin’s crashing wave
We’ve cried hard times come again no more.

It’s the broken cry of the grieving
When will hard times come again no more?
Though their tongues are diverse their aching hearts implore
Oh hard times come again no more?

See the poor hungry beggar shivering in the cold
see the widow as she sweeps the lonely floor
see the frail frightened orphan with no one to hold
When will hard times come again no more?

It’s the frightened cry of the prisoner
When will hard times come again no more?
Across all borders and cultures, the silent voice does roar
Oh hard times come again no more.

Out of great tribulation to waving palms of glee
The redeemed praise the Lamb they do adore
Millions join the rejoicing and shouts of victory
Singing hard times will come again to no more.

It’s the triumph song of the ransomed
Hard times, hard times will come again no more.
There they know joy and gladness on heaven’s golden shore
Where hard times come again no more.

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to wash away our sin

The source work here is known as The Leaving of Liverpool.

This song has also been known as Fare Thee Well, My Own True Love. It is a sailor’s song, mixing the sadness of a mariner at leaving behind his sweetheart with his disdain for his lot in life.

The first printed record of the song is from Americans Richard Maitland and Captain Patrick Tayluer. Maitland said he learned it from a Liverpool man on board the General Knox around 1885. A collector of American folk songs, Bill Doerflinger, included it in a sea songs collection in 1885.

Oh the word declares to us that all have sinned,
and come short of the glory of the Lord
there is not a single man who measures up
and the way of the transgressor is so hard

But Jesus shed His precious blood,
on the cross to pay for all our sin
that whosoever calls upon His name,
by the grace of God shall be born again.

There is not a just man upon the earth,
who doeth good and sinneth not;
there is not a devotion or a sacrament,
that can take away each stain and spot.

If we dare to say that we have no sin,
we deceive ourselves and deny the truth.
Oh and if we trust in our own righteousness,
the Spirit will ring out with stern reproof.

That none can earn their way to glory land
Is evidenced by the gospel call;
For the warning to repent and flee to God
Is sent throughout the world to one and all.

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around your throne*

Here is the way this album came about. While trying to finish fragments of songs left undone through five decades, this tune and its lyrical theme seemed to pour forth. Having no group of songs ready for a recording, I set it aside. When my wife and I took it up one day for to sing at church it seemed some latent memory of a song called The Lady Came From Baltimore had influenced this tune. It then seemed like an enjoyable project to gather some favorite historic melodies and convert them.

Way back in eternity, with no one around
How I wish we could listen in to the marvelous sound
With your Father and the Holy Ghost You were never alone
In sweet, holy fellowship around Your throne.

When you created the universe by Your power and might
All was perfect and radiant All was righteous and light
By Your strong and mighty arm You did it alone
While the morning stars sang for joy around Your throne.

You were there with Adam and then inspecting the ark
You were present at Babel and when Sodom’s sky grew dark
You met Moses and gave to him the tables of stone
Then You waited so patiently around Your throne.

Those curious creatures with six wings did fly
Constantly circling day and night they never change their cry
No matter how violent and decayed earth has grown
They speak of naught but Your holiness around Your throne.

For long years strangely empty was the place you belong
While You walked among sinful man combating all that was wrong
Such mercy and miracles this world had never known.
But a strange foreboding built around Your throne.

Alone in anguish on Calvary came the passionate cry
But the Father did not respond As for sin you did die
Could they see through the darkness where for sin you atoned?
Was there any who could understand around Your throne?

Swing open those pearly gates and strike up the band
The Lord of glory is coming home with wounds in His hands
Crowned with honor and majesty They welcomed You home
Giving praise to the Lamb once slain around Your throne.

One day with the countless souls You saved by Your grace
I will stand in Your righteousness thrilled to take my place
Gladly bowing before You Lord the honor is Yours alone
I will worship through endless days around Your throne.

Thanking you for the million ways Love to me You have shown
I will pour forth my sincere praise around Your throne.

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go christian go

This began as Wild Mountain Thyme.

This song, also known as Purple Heather and Will Ye Go, Lassie, Go, is a folk song adapted by Francis McPeake. His lyrics are a variant of the song The Braes of Balquhither by Scottish poet Robert Tannahill (1774–1810), a contemporary of Robert Burns. Tannahill’s original song, first published in Robert Archibald Smith’s Scottish Minstrel (1821-24), is about the hills around Balquhidder near Lochearnhead. His song was also an adaptation of the earlier song The Braes o’ Bowhether.

McPeake’s version of the song, published in 1957, closely paraphrases the Tannahill version, which was published posthumously in 1821. Tannahill’s original lyrics include a number of phrases that McPeake carried over into his song, including the lines “Let us go, lassie, go” and “the wild mountain thyme”.

Oh, the harvest time is coming and the long shadow’s falling
We must all redeem the time and fulfill our holy calling
Will you go Christian go?
Let us all go together
To the ends of the earth
To the great whosover
Will you go Christian go?

Our Lord has built a city with a pure crystal fountain
Where He waits to save the sinner, from His high and holy mountain

It is true love leads us on to proclaim to all the nations
That the rich grace of God has provided them salvation

Through the jungles through the deserts, through the cold concrete city
To one man or to a million, will your heart be moved with pity?

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