Two songs which are regularly used to start off
a play party are Saro Jane and Coffee
Grows on White Oak Trees.
Both are ring dances with swinging couples in
the middle of the ring.
The songs start real slowly and increase in
tempo with the dancers following the beat.
Oh, how I love my Saro Jane, and I love pretty
Polly, did I do,
and I love pretty Polly, do.
Well, grab your partners and we'll all dance,
Josie, grab your partners, we'll all dance,
Josie, hello, Susie Brown.
And then another one, Coffee Grows on White Oak
Trees, old-timers always looked for white
oak trees when they were looking for a place to
settle on because they knew that where
the white oaks grew that the land was very rich
and fertile.
Well, Coffee Grows on White Oak Trees, rivers
flow with brandy, oh, choose that gal to walk
with you, sweet as sugar like candy, oh, well,
grab your partners, we'll all dance, Josie,
hello, Susie Brown.
They marched in partnered rings also to a song
that was old during Queen Elizabeth's
time, The Gal I Left Behind Me is a traditional
soldier's farewell song.
Well, I'm a lonesome sense across the hills and
over the mooring valley, such heavy thoughts
my heart just feels since parting with my Sally.
Speak no more of the young and gay for each
does but remind me of the hours I passed away
with the gal I left behind me, oh, that gal,
that pretty little gal, the gal I left behind me.
I'm gonna stop and stay all night with the gal
I left behind me.
Weavely Weed is a long ways play party game
with the girls in one line and the boys facing
them another.
This is an ancient dance form and the song
itself goes back to the 18th century when
it was sung by the Scots who followed Bonnie
Prince Charlie.
It's come a long way since that time and place
but Charles still is the central figure in
this play party favorite.
Well I don't want your Weavely Wheaton, I don't
want your barley, and I want some flour
and a half an hour to bake a cake for Charlie,
cause Charlie he's a very fine man and Charlie
he's a dandy and hugs and he kisses all the
gals and he drinks his daddy's brandy.
Well up the river to feed the sheep and up the
river for barley, up the river to feed
the sheep.
Back in for Charlie cause Charlie's sweet and
Charlie's neat, Charlie's mighty frisky.
He makes love to all the gals and he sips his
pappy's whiskey.
Here's the bad verse, grab your lady round the
waist and lead her like a pigeon, make
her dance to Weavely Wheaton till she loses her religion.
Your Weavely Wheaton ain't fit to eat and
neither is your barley, want some flour and
a half an hour to bake a cake for Charlie,
Charlie he's a very fine man and Charlie he's
a booger, hugs and he kisses all the gals,
steals the lady's sugar.
If there is a common meeting ground for Texas
singers, it is in religious music.
I don't mean just any religious music, but the
old traditional songs of our faith and
our fathers.
The songs that were as much a part of our
raising as the fire and brimstone preachers
who helped nail them down in our memories.
An early camp meeting song is the sacred harp
song they call Cuba.
It is a simple sing-along with the bulk of the
song consisting of repeated lines.
The singers here are those that gathered at
Harris Chapel near Marshall for their 100th
anniversary in 1967.
Oh, preachers and judges of the world, oh,
preachers and judges of the world, oh, preachers
and judges of the world, oh, preachers and
judges of the world, oh, preachers and judges
of the world, oh, preachers and judges of the world.
A popular type of sacred harp song is the fugue
song in which the chorus is around with
each singing part coming in at a different time.
Oh, preachers and judges of the world, oh,
preachers and judges of the world, oh, preachers
and judges of the world, oh, preachers and
judges of the world.
Stamps-Baxter gospel music was the result of
easier living in the 20th century.
It had a joyful upbeat sound and was
accompanied with a piano and other instruments.
Anybody living in Texas in the 30s who listened
to the radio will remember the Stamps quartet
singing Give the World a Smile Each Day.
This 1936 version was taken from the archives
of the Stamps-Baxter Music Company of the
Zondervan Corporation.
popular folk tune, I'm Thinking Tonight of My
Blue Eyes, became the melody for the popular
religious classic Great Speckled Bird.
The East Texas String Ensemble presents this
old favorite.
The Stamps-Baxter gospel music was the result
of easier living in the 20th century.
It had a joyful upbeat sound and was
accompanied with a piano and other instruments.
But I'm glad that I've heard of her teaching,
and I'm glad that my name's in her book.
For I want to be one of her theories on the
face of my Savior to look.
And when He comes down descending from Heaven
on a cloud as He said in His word, I'll be
joyfully carried to meet Him on the wings of a
great and speckled bird.
What a beautiful thought I've been thinking
concerning that great speckled bird, for you
know that her name is recorded on the pages of
God's holy word.
The cowboy is the hero of Southwestern life and literature.
He made his mark on American history in the
years between 1866 and 1900, and the dust
that he stirred as he trailed the herds from
Texas to Dodge and Abilene and Montana has
drifted all over the world.
One of the long trails north was the Chisholm
Trail, and it was natural that the best known
song among cowboys was about that long, dusty
trail drive.
Well, come along boys and listen to my tale,
tell you all my troubles on the old Chisholm Trail.
On $10 horse and $40 saddle started up the
Trail Bunchin' Dachshund scowl.
Equally popular was Get Along Little Dogies.
The dogie that was the subject of the song was
a calf that had lost his mother before
it was ready to be weaned, and that was the
situation with a lot of young boys who ran
off to Texas to become cowboys.
As I was out walkin' one mornin' for pleasure,
Spied a cowpuncher ridin' along,
Hat was thrown back and his spurs were
a-jinglin', As he approached he was singin'
this song.
Whoopee-tie-I-oh, Get Along Little Dogies, Your
misfortune and none of my own.
Whoopee-tie-I-oh, Get Along Little Dogies, For
you know that Wyoming will be your new home.
Cowboys sang about their hard times on the
trail, and they also sang about the horses
that were a part of their lives.
The most famous one was the old Strawberry Roan.
Well I was hangin' round town, just a-wastin'
my time,
Nothin' to spend, not even a dime, When a fella
come up and he said, I suppose,
You're a bronc-buster by the look of your clothes.
Said you are right, said a good one I claim,
You happen to have any bad ones to tame?
Said I got one, he's a bad one to buck, Throw
in bronc riders, he's had lots of love.
Oh, that Strawberry Roan,
There's never a cowboy that couldn't be thrown,
Never a pony that couldn't be rode,
But oh, that Strawberry Roan.
Well the song goes on to tell about his
problems, Saddlin' up and startin' his ride,
and feelin'
mighty proud of himself, but old Strawberry
finally wins the contest.
Well I lost my left stirrup, and also my hat,
Start pullin' leather, I'm blind as a bat,
With a big forward jump, he goes up on high,
Leaves me a-sittin' right up in the sky,
Turned over twice, I came down to earth,
Startin' to cuss in the day of his birth,
Bet all my money there ain't no man alive, Can
ride ol' Strawberry when he makes his
high dive.
Oh, that Strawberry Roan,
There's never a cowboy that couldn't be thrown,
Never a pony that couldn't be rode,
But oh, that Strawberry Roan, Oh, that
Strawberry Roan.
Jack Tharp, a cowboy and one of the first
collectors of Cowboy songs, wrote Little Joe
the Wrangler on a paper bag in 1898 while he
was trailing a herd from New Mexico into
the Texas panhandle.
It's the story about a young boy who gets
killed in a stampede, and was one of the favorites
among cowboys.
Well, Little Joe the Wrangler will wrangle
evermore, His days with the Remuda they are
done, Twas a year ago, last April, he joined
the outfit here,
Little Dex is strayin' all alone, Twas long
late in the evening when he rode
up to the herd, On a little ol' brown pony he
called Shaw,
With his broken shoes and overalls, A
hardy-lookin' kid, you never in your life
before had saw,
So they put him on as a horse wrangler, And let
him help the cook,
Well we'd driven to Red River, And the weather
had been fine,
We were camped down on the south side in a bin,
When a norther commenced Blowin', And we
doubled up our guards,
For it took all hands to hold the cattle then,
Little Joe the Wrangler was called out with
the rest, Scarcely had the kid got to the herd,
When the cattle they stampeded like a hailstorm
lonely flew,
And all of us were ridin' for the lead, At last
we got a millin' and kinda quieted
down, Extra guard back to the camp did go,
But one of them was missin', And we all knew at
a glance,
Was our little Texas stray poor Wrangler Joe,
Next morning just a sun up we found where
a rocket fell, Down in a washout twenty feet below,
Beneath his horse mashed to a pulp, His horse
had wrung the nail,
For our little Texas stray poor Wrangler Joe.
The classic cowboy song is Streets of Laredo, a
song that started out being about a soldier
dying in England.
It was a long way from London to Laredo, but
the story's just about the same.
As I walked down the streets of Laredo, As I
walked out in Laredo one day,
I spied a cowboy wrapped in white linen,
Wrapped in white linen and cold as the clay,
I see by your clothes you are a cowboy, His
words he did say as he passed me on by,
Sit down beside me hear my sad story, Shot in
the breast and I surely must die,
All's once in the saddle I used to go Dashin',
Once in the saddle I used to go gay,
First down the roses then to the bar room, Shot
in the breast and I'm Dyin' today,
Get sixteen gamblers to carry my coffin, Six
pretty maidens sing me a song,
Take me to the graveyard throw the sod over me,
I'm a poor cowboy and I know I done wrong.
As I walked down the streets of Laredo, As I
walked out in Laredo one day,
I spied a cowboy wrapped in white linen,
Wrapped in white linen and cold as the clay.
The saddest old song on the Texas plains was
Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie.
The cowboy was Dyin' too far from his southern
home for his soul to be at ease.
Oh, Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie, These
words came low and mournfully
From the pallid lips of a youth who lay,
Beneath the prairie sky at the break of day,
And he wailed in pain until, oh, his brow,
Death's shadows fast were gatherin' now,
And he thought of home and his loved one's
night, As the cowboys gathered to see him die.
Oh, Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie, In a
narrow grave just six by three,
Where the wild coyotes howl over me, And the
Buffalo paws on the Prairie sea.
Oh, Bury Me Not, and he faltered there, But we
paid no heed to his dyin' prayer,
In a narrow grave just six by three, We buried
him there on the Lone Prairie.
Judgment day to the cowboy was the last great roundup,
With the boss sittin' on a big bay horse, tally
sheet in hand.
Well, last night as I lay on the prairie,
Looked at the stars in the sky,
Well, I wondered if ever a cowboy Would drift
to that sweet by and by.
Roll on, roll on, little doggies, Roll on, roll on,
Roll on, little doggies, roll on.
They say there will be a great roundup, Where
cowboys like doggies will stand,
To be given the mark of the maker, Who's posted
and knows every brand.
Roll on, roll on, little doggies, Roll on, roll on,
Roll on, little doggies, roll on.
Texans have been involved in battles for 150
years, and songs remain to remind us of what
it was like.
Texans charged into the Battle of San Jacinto
and won their independence from Mexico to
an English poem set to an Irish tune, Come to
the Bower.
Will you come to the bower, I have shaded for you,
I have decked it with roses all spangled with dew.
Will you, will you come to my bower?
There beneath this glad bower on roses we'll rest,
While a smile lights the eyes of the girl that
I love best.
Will you, will you come to my bower?
Ten years later, Texans were fighting Mexico again.
This time with the help of the United States,
of which they were one.
The favorite song of that war was Green Grow
the Lilacs.
I once had a sweetheart, but now I have none.
Since she's gone and left me, I care for no one.
Since she's gone and left me, forsaken I'll be.
She loves another one better than me.
Green Grow the Lilacs, they're wet with the dew.
I'm lonesome, my darling, since parting with you.
By the next meeting, I hope to prove true.
And change the green lilacs to the red, white,
and blue.
Hood's Taxis Brigade marched off to the Civil
War singing a song that had come down from
Northern minstrel shows.
Originally, the song was about a Mulatto girl a
slave had left behind when he had escaped
to the north.
Texans changed a few words, the darky became a
soldier, and they sang and marched to their
own sentiments.
There's a yellow rose in Texas that I am going
to see.
No other soldier knows her, no one but only me.
She cried so when I left her, it like broke my heart.
And if I ever find her, we nevermore will part.
She's the sweetest little flower this soldier
ever knew.
Her eyes are bright as diamonds, they sparkle
like the dew.
Talk about your dearest May and sing of Rosalie.
But the yellow rose of Texas beats the bells of Tennessee.
The heroes Texans sang about after the Civil
War were those who fought against the hated
Yankee occupation troops or who plagued the big
businesses like the banks and the railroads.
Jesse James, the Daltons and Youngers, Bell
Starr, and John Wesley Hardin were outlaws
and robbers, but in the people's eye, they were
Robin Hoods.
Sam Bass was just a good old boy.
Sam Bass was born in Indiana, that was his
native home.
And at the age of 17, young Sam began to roam.
He first came out to Texas, a cowboy far to be,
a kinder hearted fellow you'll seldom ever see.
The song goes on to tell about Sam's adventures
in Outlawry, then arrives at the fatal conclusion.
Sam rode into Round Rock July the 21st.
They riddled him with rifle balls and emptied
out his purse.
Sam is now a corpse, six feet under clay.
Sam's in the bushes just trying to get away.