"The Battle Hymn of the
Republic"
(common time 4/4)
G / / / G / / /
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
I have seen him in the watch fires of a hundred circling camps;
I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
C / / / G / / /
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
"As ye deal with My contemners, so with you My Grace shall deal;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His Judgment Seat;
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me;
G / / / G Em /
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword,
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps,
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer Him, be jubilant my feet!
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
Am / G D7 G / / /
His truth is marching on.
His day is marching on.
Since God is marching on."
Our God is marching on.
While God is marching on.
Chorus:
G / / / G / / /
Glory, Glory Hallelu - jah,
C / / / G / / /
Glory, Glory Hallelu - jah,
G / / / G B7 Em /
Glory, Glory Hallelu - jah,
Am G D7 G / / /
His truth is marching on.
Music by Julia Ward Howe, to the music of "John Brown's Body".
__________________________________________________________
"Hold the Fort"
(common time 4/4)
C / / / F / / /
Ho, my comrades, see the signal,
See the mighty host advancing,
See the glorious banner waving,
Fierce and long the battle rages,
C / / / G / / /
Waving in the sky;
Satan leading on,
Hear our bugle blow,
But our help is near,
C / / / F / / /
Reinforcements now appearing,
Mighty men around us falling,
In our leader's name we'll triumph,
Onward comes our great commander,
D7 / / / G7 / / /
Victory is nigh.
Courage almost gone.
Over every foe.
Cheer, my comrades, cheer.
Chorus:
C / F / C / / Em
"Hold the Fort, for I am coming,"
F / / / G7 / / /
Jesus signals still.
C / / / F / / /
Wave the answer back to heaven,
G7 / / / C / / /
"By thy Grace we will."
Words and music by Philip Paul Bliss.
__________________________________________________________
"Lincoln and Liberty"
(march time 2/4)
D / G /
Hurrah for the choice of our nation,
Hurrah for the son of Kentucky
Then up with the banner so glorious,
D / G A7
Our chieftain so brave and so true,
The hero of Hoosierdom through;
The star-spangled red, white, and blue,
D / G /
We'll go for the great reformation, for
The pride of the Suckers so lucky, for
We'll fight til our banner's victorious, for
Chorus:
D A7 D /
Lincoln and Liberty, too!
D / G-A7 /
For Lincoln and Liberty, too,
D / G-A7 /
For Lincoln and Liberty, too,
D / G /
We'll go for the great reformation
The pride of the Suckers so lucky
We'll fight til our banner's victorious
D A7 D /
For Lincoln and Liberty, too.
Words by Jesse Hutchinson, music To the tune "of Old Rosin the
Beau".
__________________________________________________________
"Tramp!, Tramp!, Tramp!"
(march time 2/4)
G / / /
In the prison cell I sit
In the battle front we stood,
So with-in the prison cell
/ C / G
Thinking mother, dear, of you
When their fiercest charge they made
We are waiting for the day,
/ / / A7 / D7
And our bright and happy home so far away,
And they swept us off a hundred men or more,
That shall come to open wide the iron door,
/ G / /
And the tears they fill my eyes
But be - fore we reached their lines,
And the hollow eye grows bright,
/ C / G
'Spite of all that I can do,
They were beaten back dismayed,
And the poor heart almost gay,
/ C / D7 / G
Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.
And we heard the cry of vict'ry o'er and o'er.
As we think of seeing home and friends once more.
Chorus:
G / / / / / /
Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching,
D7 / / /
Cheer up comrades they will come,
G / /
And beneath the starry flag
/ C / G
We shall breathe the air again
/ Em / D7 / G / /
Of the free land in our own beloved home.
Words & music by George F. Root; published by Root & Cady in Chicago
in 1864.
__________________________________________________________
"Kingdom Coming"
(march time 2/4)
C / / / C / G /
Oh have you seen the master coming With a mustache on his face
He's six foot one way, two foot the other And he weighs three hundred pounds.
The people feel so lonesome living in the loghouse on the lawn,
The overseer he made us trouble, And he drove us 'round a spell;
C / / / C G C /
He come around here sometime this morning, Said he's gonna leave this place.
His coat so big he can't pay the tailor, And it won't go halfway 'round.
We moved our things to master's parlor For to keep it while he's gone.
We locked him up in the smokehouse cellar, With the key thrown in the well.
C / / / / / G /
He saw the smoke way up the river where the Lincoln gunboats lay
He drills so much they call him captain, and he gets so mighty tan.
There's wine and cider in the kitchen, And we will all have some;
The whip is lost, the handcuff broken, But master will have his pay;
C / / / / G C /
He grab his hat and he left mighty sudden I think he's run away.
I expect he'll try to fool them Yankees for the think he's contraband.
I suppose they'll all be cornfiscated When the Lincoln soldiers come.
He's old enough, big enough, ought to've known better Than to went and run away.
Chorus:
F / / C / G /
The master run ha-ha; the darkey stay ho-ho.
C / / / / G C /
It must be now the kingdom coming in the year of Jubilo.
Words & music by Henry Clay Work; published by Root & Cady in Chicago
in 1862.
__________________________________________________________
"The Battle Cry of Freedom"
(common time 4/4)
G / / / C / / /
Rally round the flag boys, rally once again.
We'll welcome to our number the loyal, true, and brave,
We are springing to the call from the East and from the West,
G / / / / / D /
Shouting the battle cry of "Freedom!"
G / / / C / /
Rally from the hillsides, gather from the plains,
Although he may be poor, not a man shall be a slave,
We'll prove a loyal crew to the man we love the best,
G / / / D / G /
Shouting the battle cry of "Freedom!"
Chorus:
G / / / G / / /
The Union forever, Hurrah! Boys, hurrah!
G / / / G / D /
Down with the traitors and up with the stars
G / / / C / / /
While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again,
G / / D / G /
Shouting the battle cry of "Freedom!"
Words and music by George F. Root; published by Root & Cady in Chicago in
1862.
__________________________________________________________
"The John Brown Song"
(common time 4/4)
C / / / / / / /
John Brown's body lies a-mouldin' in the grave,
He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord,
John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back,
John Brown died that the slaves might all be free,
The stars above in heaven are brightly shining down,
F / / / C / / /
John Brown's body lies a-mouldin' in the grave,
He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord,
John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back,
John Brown died that the slaves might all be free,
The stars above in heaven are brightly shining down,
C / / / / / Am
John Brown's body lies a-mouldin' in the grave,
He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord,
John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back,
John Brown died that the slaves might all be free,
The stars above in heaven are brightly shining down,
/ G7 / / / C
His soul goes marchin' on.
His soul goes marchin' on.
His soul goes marchin' on.
His soul goes marchin' on.
His soul goes marchin' on.
On the grave of old John Brown.
Chorus:
C / / / / / /
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
F / / / C / / /
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
C / / / / / /
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
G7 C
His soul goes marchin' on.
Words: Anonymous, music: "Say, Brothers, will you meet us?"
(ascribed to William Steffe), circa 1860.
_________________________________________________________
"All Quiet Along the Potomac Tonight"
(waltz time 3/4)
G D7 G / D7 / G /
"All quiet along the Potomac tonight," Except here and there a stray
picket
"All quiet along the Potomac tonight," Where the soldiers lie
peacefully dreaming,
His musket falls slack-- his face, dark and grim, Grows gentle with memories
tender,
Then drawing his sleeve roughly o'er his eyes, He dashes off the tears that are
welling,
Hark! was it the night-wind that rustles the leaves! Was it the moonlight so
wond'rously flashing?
G D7 G / D A7 D7 /
Is shot as he walks on his beat to and fro, By a rifleman hid in the thicket;
And their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon, And the light of their
campfires gleaming;
As he mutters a pray'r for the children asleep, And their mother--"May
heaven defend her!"
And gathers his gun close up to his breast, As if to keep down the heart's
swelling;
It look'd like a rifle! "Ha, Mary goodbye!" And his lifeblood is
ebbing and plashing.
D7 / G / C A7 D /
'Tis nothing! a private or two now and then, Will not count in the news of the
battle,
There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread, As he tramps from the rock to
the fountain,
The moon seems to shine as brightly as then -- That night, when the love yet
unspoken
He passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree, And his footstep is laging and
weary,
"All quiet along the Potomac tonight," No sound save the rush of the
river;
C D7 G C G Em G /
Not an officer lost! only one of the men, Moaning out all alone the death
rattle.
And thinks of the two on the low trundle bed, Far away in the cot on the
mountain.
Leap'd up to his lips, and when low murmur'd vows, Were pledg'd to be ever
unbroken.
Yet onward he goes, thro' the broad belt of light, Toward the shades of the
forest so dreary.
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead, "The Picket's" off
duty forever.
Chorus:
G / Em / D / G /
"All Qui - et along the Potomac tonight!"
Words by Ethel L. Beers, music by John H. Hewitt; published by Miller &
Beacham in Baltimore in 1863.
__________________________________________________________
"Weeping
Sad and Lonely"
(common time 4/4)
G / / / C / / / G / A7 / D7 / / /
Dearest love do you remember, When we last did meet,
When the summer breeze is sighing Mournfully along;
If amid the din of battle, Nobly you should fall,
But our country called you, darling, Angels cheer your way;
G / / / C / / / G / D7 / G / / /
How you told me that you loved me, Kneeling at my feet?
Of when autumn leaves are falling, Sadly breathes the song.
Far away from those who love you, None to hear you call,
While our nation's sons are fighting, We can only pray.
D7 / / / G / / / C / A7 / D7 / C7 /
Oh! how proud you stood before me, In your suit of blue,
Oft in dreams I see thee lying On the battle plain
Who would whisper words of comfort, Who would soothe your pain?
Nobly strike for God and liberty, Let all nations see,
G / / / Em / / / G / D7 / G / / /
When you vowed to me and country, Ever to be true.
Lonely, wounded, even dying, Calling but in vain.
Ah! the many cruel fancies Ever in my brain.
How we love the starry banner, Emblem of the free.
Chorus:
C / / / G / / / A7 / / / D7 / / /
Weeping sad and lonely, Hopes and fears how vain!
G / G7 / C / / / G / D7 / G
When this cruel war is over, Praying that we meet again.
Words and music by Charles C. Sawyer and Henry Tucker. George C. Eggleston in
"American War Ballads and Lyrics" published in 1889, asserted this
tune to have been the most often played or sung on both sides, and the home
front, throughout the war.
__________________________________________________________
"Tenting on the old Campground"
(common time 4/4)
G / / / C / G / / D7 / G / / /
We're tenting tonight on the old Campground, Give us a song to cheer
We've been tenting tonight on the old Campground, Thinking of days gone by,
We are tired of war on the old Campground, Many are dead and gone,
We've been fighting today on the old Campground, Many are lying near;
G / / / C G / D7 / / / G / / /
Our weary hearts, a song of home, And friends we love so dear.
Of the lov'd ones at home that gave us the hand, and the tear that said,
"Goodbye!"
Of the brave and true who've left their homes, Others wounded long.
Some are dead and some are dying, Many are in tears.
Chorus:
G / / / C / /
Many are the hearts that are weary tonight,
G / / / D / / /
Wishing for the war to cease;
G / / / C / G
Many are the hearts looking for the right
G / D7 / G / / /
To see the dawn of peace.
G / / / C / / /
Tenting tonight, Tenting tonight,
(last verse:) Dying tonight, Dying tonight,
D7 / / / G
Tenting on the old Campground.
Dying on the old Campground.
Words and music by Walter Kittredge; published by Oliver Ditson & Co. in
Boston, 1864.
__________________________________________________________
"When Johnny Comes Marching Home"
(march time 6/8)
Em / / /
When Johnny comes marching home again,
The old church bell will peel with joy,
Get ready for the Jubilee,
Let love and friendship on that day,
G / / /
Hurrah!, hurrah!
Em / / /
We'll give him a hearty welcome then,
To welcome home our darling boy,
We'll give the hero three times three,
Their choicest treasures then display,
G / G7 /
Hurrah!, hurrah!
Em / Am /
The men will cheer, the boys will shout,
The village lads and lassies say,
The laurel wreath is ready now,
Let each one perform some part,
Em / D /
The ladies they will all turn out,
With roses they will strew the way,
To place upon his loyal brow,
To fill with joy the warrior's heart,
Em D Em D
And we'll all feel gay when
Em D Em /
Johnny comes marching home.
Words and music by "Louis Lambert" (Patrick S. Gilmore?); published
by Henry Tolman & Co. in Boston, 1863.
__________________________________________________________
"Marching Through Georgia"
(common time 4/4)
G / / / C / G /
Bring the good old bugle, boys, we'll sing another song;
How the darkeys shouted when they heard the joyful sound!
Yes, and there were Union men who wept with joyful tears,
"Sherman's dashing Yankee boys will never reach the coast!"
So we made a thoroughfare for Freedom and her train,
G / / / A7 / D7 /
Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along,
How the turkeys gobbled which our comissary found!
When they saw the honored flag they had not seen for years;
So the saucy Rebels said, and 'twas a handsome boast;
Sixty miles in latitude, three hundred to the main;
G / C / G / / /
Sing it as we used to sing it, fifty thousand strong,
How the sweet potatoes even started from the ground,
Hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in cheers,
Had they not forgot alas! to reckon with the host,
Treason fled before us, for resistance was in vain,
D / / / G / / /
While we were marching through Georgia.
Chorus:
G / / / C / G /
Hurrah! Hurrah! We bring the jubilee!
G / / / D / / /
Hurrah! Hurrah! The flag that makes you free!
G / C / G / G7 /
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea,
D / / / G / / /
While we were marching through Georgia.
Words and music by Henry Clay Work; published by Root & Cady in Chicago,
1865.
__________________________________________________________
"We Are Coming Father Abr'am"
(march time 2/4)
G / / / D7 / G /
We are coming Father Abr'am, Three hundred thousand more,
If you look across the hilltops That meet the northern sky,
If you look all up our valleys Where the growing harvests shine,
You have called us and we're coming By Richmond's bloody tide,
D7 / G / A7 / D7 /
From Mississippi's winding stream And from New England's shore;
Long moving lines of rising dust Your vision may descry;
You may see our sturdy farmer boys Fast forming into line;
To lay us down for Freedom's sake, Our brothers' bones beside;
G / C / Am / D7 /
We leave our plows and workshops, Our wives and children dear,
And now the wind, an instant, Tears the cloudy veil aside,
And children from their mother's knees Are pulling at the weeds,
Or from foul treason's savage group, To wrench the murderous blade;
G / / / D7 / G /
With hearts too full for utterance, With but a silent tear;
And floats aloft our spangled flag In glory and in pride;
And learning how to reap and sow Against their country's needs;
And in the face of foreign foes Its fragments to parade;
G / Em / D7 / G /
We dare not look behind us, But steadfastly before.
And bayonets in the sunlight gleam, And bands brave music pour.
And a farewell group stands weeping At every cottage door.
Six hundred thousand loyal men And true have gone before.
D / / / A7 / D /
We are coming Father Abr'am, Three hundred thousand more!
Chorus:
G / / / / / / /
We are coming, we are coming, Our Union to restore;
C / G / D / / /
We are coming Father Abr'am, With three hundred thousand more,
G G7 C / G D7 G /
We are coming Father Abr'am, With three hundred thousand more,
This version ascribes the words to William C. Bryant and the music to L.O.
Emerson; published by Oliver Ditson in Boston in 1862. Another transcription
with the same tune credits the words to James G. Gibbons.
__________________________________________________________
"We Are Coming Father Abraam"
(march time 2/4)
C / / / / / G7 /
We are coming Father Abraam, Three hundred thousand more,
If you look across the hilltops That meet the northern sky,
If you look all up our valleys Where the growing harvests shine,
You have called us and we're coming By Richmond's bloody tide,
C / F / C G7 C /
From Mississippi's winding stream And from New England's shore;
Long moving lines of rising dust Your vision may descry;
You may see our sturdy farmer boys Fast forming into line;
To lay us down for Freedom's sake, Our brothers' bones beside;
C / / / / / G7 /
We leave our plows and workshops, Our wives and children dear,
And now the wind, an instant, Tears the cloudy veil aside,
And children from their mother's knees Are pulling at the weeds,
Or from foul treason's savage group, To wrench the murderous blade;
C / F / C G7 C /
With hearts too full for utterance, With but a silent tear;
And floats aloft our spangled flag In glory and in pride;
And learning how to reap and sow Against their country's needs;
And in the face of foreign foes Its fragments to parade;
G7 / C / D7 / G /
We dare not look behind us, But steadfastly before.
And bayonets in the sunlight gleam, And bands brave music pour.
And a farewell group stands weeping At every cottage door.
Six hundred thousand loyal men And true have gone before.
C / F / C G7 C /
We are coming Father Abraam, Three hundred thousand more!
Chorus:
C / F / C / G7 /
We are coming, we are coming, Our Union to restore;
C / F / C G7 C /
We are coming Father Abraam, With three hundred thousand more,
This version has words by James G. Gibbons and music by Stephen Foster;
published by S.T. Gordon in New York in 1862.
__________________________________________________________
"Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade"
(waltz time 3/4, fast)
A / D A
Says Pat to his mother, "It looks strange to see
The morning it broke, and poor Paddy awoke,
Sure, the day after battle, the dead lay in heaps,
No more in camp will his letter be read,
A / D /
Brothers fighting in such a queer manner,
He found Rebels to give satisfaction,
And Pat Murphy lay bleeding and gory,
Or his song be heard singing so gaily,
A / D A
But I'll fight till I die if I never get killed
And the drummers were beating the Devil's sad tune,
With a hole through his head by some enemy's ball
But he died far away from the friends that he loved,
A / D
For America's bright starry banner."
They were calling the boys into action.
That ended his passion for glory.
And far from the land of shillelagh.
Chorus:
A / D A
Far away in the East was a dashing young blade,
A / D /
And the song he was singing so gaily,
A / D A
'Twas honest Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade,
A / D A
And the song of the splintered shilelagh.
Anonymous.
__________________________________________________________
"The Vacant Chair"
(waltz time 3/4)
G / D7 /
We shall meet but we shall miss him, There will be one vacant chair;
At our fireside, sad and lonely, Often will the bosom swell
True, they tell us wreaths of glory Ever more will deck his brow,
G C D7 G
We shall linger to caress him, While we breathe our evening prayer;
At remembrance of the story, How our noble Willie fell;
But this soothes the anguish only, Sweeping o'er our heartstrings now.
D A7 D A7 D
When a year ago we gathered, Joy was in his mild blue eye,
How he strove to bear our banner Through the thickest of the fight,
Sleep today, Oh early fallen, In they green and narrow bed,
A7 D A7 D D7
But a golden chord is severed, And our hopes in ruin lie.
And uphold our country's honor, In the strength of manhood's might.
Dirges from the pine and cypress Mingle with the tears we shed.
Chorus:
G /
We shall meet but we shall miss him,
D7 /
There will be one vacant chair;
G C
We shall linger to caress him,
D7 G
While we breathe our evening prayer;
Words by Henry S. Washburn, and music by George F. Root; published by Root
& Cady in Chicago, 1862.
__________________________________________________________
"Just before the Battle, Mother"
(march time 2/4)
G / C / D7 / G /
Just before the battle, Mother, I am thinking most of you,
Oh, I long to see you, Mother, And the loving ones at home,
Hark! I hear the bugles sounding, 'Tis the signal for the fight,
G / C / D7 / G /
While upon the field we're watching, With the enemy in view.
But I'll never leave our banner, Till in honor I can come.
Now, may God protect us, Mother, As He ever does the right,
G / C / A7 / D7 /
Comrades brave are 'round me lying, Filled with thoughts of home and God;
Tell the traitors all around you, That their cruel words we know,
Hear the "Battle Cry of Freedom," How it swells upon the air,
G / C / D7 / G
For well they know that on the morrow, Some will sleep beneath the sod.
In every battle kill our soldiers, By the help they give the foe.
Oh, yes, we'll rally 'round the standard, Or we'll perish noble there.
Chorus:
G / C /
Farewell Mother you may never
A7 / D D7
Press me to your breast again;
G / C /
But, Oh, you'll not forget me, Mother,
D7 / G /
If I'm numbered with the slain.
Words and music by George F. Root; published by Root & Cady in Chicago,
circa 1864.
__________________________________________________________
"The Siege of Vicksburg"
(to the tune of "Listen to the Mocking Bird")
(common time 4/4)
D7 / / / G / / / D7 / / / G / /
It was at the siege of Vicksburg... of Vicksburg... of Vicksburg;
Oh, well will we remember... remember... remember;
It was at the siege of Vicksburg... of Vicksburg... of Vicksburg;
D7 / / / G / / / C / D7 / G
/ /
It was at the siege of Vicksburg, When the Parrott shells were whistling through
the air.
Of you and me in June and November, When the Minie balls were whistling through
the air.
It was at the siege of Vicksburg, When the Parrott shells were whistling through
the air.
Chorus:
D7 / / / G / /
Verses 1& 3: Listen to the Parott shells... Listen to the Parrott shells...
Verse 2: Listen to the Minie balls... Listen to the Minie balls...
D7 / / / G / /
The Parrott shells were whistling through the air.
The Minie balls were whistling through the air.
D7 / / / G / /
Listen to the Parott shells... Listen to the Parrott shells...
Listen to the Minie balls... Listen to the Minie balls...
C / D7 / G / /
The Parrott shells were whistling through the air.
The Minie balls were whistling through the air.
Anonymous campfire tune.
__________________________________________________________
"Grafted into the Army"
(march time 6/8)
D / / /
Our Jimmy has gone for to live in a tent,
Dressed up in his unicorn, dear little chap,
Now in my provisions I see him revealed,
G / D /
They have grafted him into the army;
D / G G7
He finally puckered up courage and went,
It seems but a day since he sot in my lap,
A picket beside the contented field,
D A D /
They have grafted him into the army.
A / / /
I told them the child was too young, alas!
And these are the trousies he used to wear,
He looks kind of sickish -- begins to cry,
A / D A7
At the captain's fore-quarters, they said he would pass,
Them very same buttons, the patch and the tear;
A big volunteer standing right in his eye!
D / G G7
They'd train him up well in the infantry class,
But Uncle Sam gave him a bran' new pair,
Oh, what if the ducky should up and die,
D A7 D /
They have grafted him into the army.
Chorus:
D / / /
Oh, Jimmy, farewell! Your brothers fell
G / D /
Way down in Alabarmy;
D D7 G G7
I thought they would spare a lone widder's heir,
D A7 D /
But they grafted him into the army. Words and music by Henry Clay Work;
published by Root & Cady in Chicago, 1862.
__________________________________________________________
"Hard Tack"
D / / / G / D /
Let us close our game of poker, take our tin cups in our hand,
Here's a hungry, thirsty soldier who wears his life away,
'Tis the wail that is heard, in the camp both night and day,
But through all these cries and murmurs, there comes a sudden hush,
D / A7 / D / /
As we all stand by the cook's tent door.
In torn clothes whose better days are o'er.
'Tis the murmur that's mingled with each snore.
As frail forms are fainting by the door.
D / / / G / D /
As dried mummies of hard crackers are handed to each man,
And he's sighing now for whiskey in a voice as dry as hay,
'Tis the sighing of the soul for spring chickens far away,
For they feed us now on horse feed that the cooks call mush,
D / A7 / D / /
Oh, Hard tack come again no more.
Chorus:
D / / / / G / D /
'Tis the song, the sigh of the hungry;
(Last Verse): It's the dying wail fo the starving;
D / / / / / A7
Hard Tack, Hard Tack, come again no more:
Hard Tack, Hard Tack, come again once more:
D / / / G / D /
Many days you have lingered on our stomach sore;
You were old and very wormy but we passed your failing sore;
D / A7 / D / / /
Oh! Hard Tack, come again no more.
Oh! Hard Tack, come again once more:
Anonymous; to the tune of "Hard Times Come Again No More".
__________________________________________________________
"Goober Peas"
(march time 2/4)
C / / / F / C /
Sitting by the road-side on a summer day,
When a horse-man passes, the soldiers have a rule,
Just before the battle the General hears a row,
I think my song has lasted almost long enough,
C / / / F / G7 /
Chatting with my mess-mates passing time away,
To cry out their loudest "Mister here's your mule,"
He syas "the Yanks are coming, I hear their rifles now,
The subject's interesting, but rhymes are mighty rough,
C / / / F / C /
Lying in the shadow underneath the trees,
But another pleasure enchantinger than these,
He turns around in wonder, and what do you think he sees
I wish this war was over when free from rags and fleas,
C / F C G7 C /
Goodness how delicious, eating goober peas!
Is wearing out your Grinders, eating goober peas!
The Georgia Militia, eating goober peas!
We'd kiss our winves and sweethearts and gobble goober peas!
Chorus:
C / F / G7 / C /
Peas! Peas! Peas! Peas! eating goober peas!
C / F / C G7 C /
Goodness how delicious, eating goober peas!
Words by "A. Pindar, Esq.", music by "P. Nutt, Esq.";
published by A. E. Blackmar in New Orleans in 1866. This is an anonymous
Confederate soldier song that originated sometime during the war, but was not
published until later.
__________________________________________________________
"The Cumberland Crew"
(ballad style 6/8)
Am F Em
Oh, shipmates come gather and join in my ditty
C E7 Am
Of a terrible battle that happened of late;
F Em
Let each Union tar shed a tear of sad pity
C E7 Am
When he thinks of the once gallant Cumberland's fate.
E7 Am
The eighth day of March that told a terrible story,
Dm Am E7 Am
When many a brave tar to this world bid "adieu",
C G7 C
Our flag was wrapped in a mantle of glory
Am E7 Am
By the herioc deeds of the Cumberland's crew.
That ill-fated day, about ten in the morning,
The sky it was cloudless and bright shone the sun;
The drums of the Cumberland sounded a warning
That told every man to stand by his gun.
When an iron clad frigate down on us came bearing,
High up in the air her base Rebel flag flew;
An emblem of treason she proudly was wearing,
Determined to conquer the Cumberland Crew.
They fought for three hours with stern resolution,
Till those Rebels found cannon could never decide;
For the flag of Secession had no power to quell them,
Though the blood from our scuppers did crimson the tide.
She struck us amidships, our planks she did sever,
Her sharp iron prow pierced our noble ship through;
And slowly we sank in Virginia's dark waters,
"We'll die by our guns," cried the Cumberland Crew.
"The Cumberland Crew", continued...
Oh, slowly she sank in the dark rolling waters,
Their voices on earth wil be heard never more,
They'll be wept by Columbia's brave sons and fair daughters,
May their blood be avenged on Virginia's old shore.
And if ever sailors in battle assemble,
God bless our dear banner -- the red, white, and blue;
Beneath its proud folds we'll cause tyrants to tremble,
Or sink at our guns like the Cumberland Crew.
Anonymous.
"Ho! brave hearts that went down in the seas,
Ye are at peace in the troubled stream,
Ho! brave land! with hearts like these,
Thy flag is rent in twain,
Shall be one again,
And without a seam.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
From "The Cumberland"
__________________________________________________________
"Roll, Alabama, Roll"
(common time 4/4)
G / / / / / D /
When the Alabama's keel was laid,
'Twas laid in the yard of Jonathan Laird,
Down the Mersey ways she rolled then,
From the Western Isles she sailed forth,
To Cherbourg port she sailed one day,
Many a sailor lad he saw his doom,
Till a ball from the forward pivot that day,
Off the three-mile limit in sixty-five,
D / G / D7 / / /
Roll, Alabama, roll,
G / / / Em / / /
'Twas laid in the yard of Jonathan Laird,
'Twas laid in the town of Birkenhead,
Liverpool fitted her with guns and men,
To destroy the commerce of the North,
To take count of prize money,
When the Kearsarge it hove in view,
Shot the Alabama's stern away,
The Alabama went to her grave,
G / D7 / G / / /
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll.
Traditional, adapted by Hermes Nye.
"Listen
to the Mocking Bird"
(common time 4/4)
D7 / / / G / / / D7 / / / G / /
I'm dreaming now of Hally... Sweet Hally... sweet Hally;
Ah! well I yet remember... remember... remember,
When the charms of spring awaken... awaken... awaken:
D7 / / / G / / / C / D7 / G / /
I'm dreaming now of Hally, For the thought of her is one that never dies:
Ah! well I yet remember, When we gather'd in the cotton side by side;
When the charms of spring awaken, And the mocking bird is singing on the bough.
D7 / / / G / / / D7 / / / G / /
She's sleeping in the valley... the valley... the valley;
'Twas in the mild September... September... September,
I feel like one forsaken... forsaken... forsaken.
D7 / / / G / / / C / D7 / G / /
She's sleeping in the valley, And the mocking bird is singing where she lies.
'Twas in the mild September, And the mocking bird was singing far and wide.
I feel like one forsaken, Since my Hally is no longer with me now.
Chorus:
D7 / / / G / /
Listen to the mocking bird,... Listen to the mocking bird,
D7 / / / G / /
The mocking bird still singing o'er her grave;
D7 / / / G / /
Listen to the mocking bird,... Listen to the mocking bird,
C / D7 / G / /
Still singing where the weeping willows wave.
Words
by Septimus Winner (Alice Hawthorne), music by Richard Milburn; published by
Winner & Schuster in Philadelphia in 1855.
__________________________________________________________
"Auld Lang Syne"
(march time 2/4)
G / D /
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
We twa ha'e run aboot the braes
We twa ha'e sported i' the burn,
And here's a hand, my trusty friend,
G / C /
and never brought to mind?
and pu'd the gowans fine,
from morning sun till dine,
and gie's a hand o' thine,
G / D /
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
We've wander'd mony a weary foot,
But seas between us braid ha'e roar'd,
We'll take a cup of kindness yet,
C / G /
and days of auld, lang syne.
sin' auld lang syne.
sin' auld lang syne.
for auld lang syne.
Chorus:
G / D /
And days of auld lang syne, my dear,
G / C /
and days of auld lang syne,
G / D /
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
C / G
sin' days of auld lang syne.
Words by Robert Burns, Scotland, 1759-1796; the tune is an ancient Scotch
air.
_________________________________________________________
"The Minstrel Boy"
(common time 4/4)
C / F / C G F
The minstrel Boy to the war is gone,
The minstrel fell, but the foeman's chain-
The minstrel boy shall return a - gain,
/ AM / C / G / C /
In the ranks of death you will find him;
Could not bring that proud soul un - der;
When we hear the news we will cheer it,
C / F / C G F
His father's sword he has gird - ed on,
The harp he loved ne'er played again,
The minstrel boy shall return again,
/ AM / C / G / C
And his wild harp slung behind him.
For he tore its chords a - sunder.
Torn perhaps in body, not in spir- it.
Chorus:
C G F / G F C /
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard,
He said, "No chain shall sul - ly thee,
Then may he play his harp in peace,
AM / / / F G C /
"Tho' all the world be-tra-ays thee,
Thou soul of love and bra - ve - ry!
In a world as heaven in te - end - ed,
C / F / C G F
One sword at least thy rights shall guard,
Thy songs were meant for the proud and free,
When all the works of war shall cease,
/ AM / C / G C
One faithful harp shall praise thee."
They shall never sound in slav'ry."
And ev'ry battle shall be end - ded.
Words by Thomas Moore, Dublin, Ireland, 1779-1852; the tune is an ancient
Irish air.
__________________________________________________________
"Old Rosin the Beau"
(fast waltz time 3/4)
G / C /
I have travelled this wide world over,
When I'm dead and laid out on the counter,
And when I am dead I reckon,
I'll have to be buried I'm thinkin',
I feel the grim tyrant approaching,
G / C D
and now to another I'll go,
A voice you will hear from below,
The ladies will all want to know,
And I would like it done just so,
That cruel implacable foe,
G / C /
I know that good quarters are waiting
Singing some plain whiskey and water,
Just lift the lid off the coffin,
And be sure not to go contrary,
Who spares neither age nor condition
C D7 G /
To welcome old Rosin the Beau.
To drink to old Rosin the Beau.
And look at old Rosin the Beau.
To the wish of old Rosin the Beau.
Nor even old Rosin the Beau.
Chorus:
G / C /
To welcome old Rosin the Beau.
To drink &c.
To look &c.
To the wish &c.
Nor even &c.
G / C D
To welcome old Rosin the Beau.
G / C /
I know that good quarters are waiting,
G D G /
To welcome old Rosin the Beau.
This tune was so popular in the early 1800's that there was a movement to make
it the national anthem. Published by Osbourn Music Saloon Ld., Meignen &
Co., Philadelphia, 1838.
__________________________________________________________
"Skip to my Lou"
(common time 4/4)
G
Lost my partner, what'll I do?
I'll get another one, pretty one too.
Gone again, what'll I do?
I got another one, skip, skip, skip.
D7
Lost my partner, what'll I do?
I'll get another one, pretty one too.
Gone again, what'll I do?
I got another one, skip, skip, skip.
G
Lost my partner, what'll I do?
I'll get another one, pretty one too.
Gone again, what'll I do?
I got another one, skip, skip, skip.
D7 G
Skip to my lou, my darling.
This song is anonymous; Lou means sweetheart in the South.
__________________________________________________________
"Hard Times Come Again No More"
(common time 4/4)
D / / / G / D /
Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears
There's a pale drooping maiden who toils her life away
'Tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave,
Bm D / A7 / D / /
While we all sup sorrow with the poor
With a worn heart whose better days are o'er:
'Tis a wail that is heard upon the shore,
D / / / / G / D
There's a song that will linger forever in our ears;
Though her voice would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day
'Tis a dirge that is murmured around the lowly grave,
Bm D / A7 / D / /
Oh! Hard Times, come again no more.
Chorus:
D / / / / G / D /
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary;
D / / / / / A7
Hard Times, Hard Times, come again no more:
D / / / G / D
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door;
Bm D / A7 / D / / /
Oh! Hard Times, come again no more.
Words and music by Stephen C. Foster; published by Firth, Pond & Co. in
New York in 1851.
__________________________________________________________
"Vive la Compagnie"
(march time 6/8)
G / / /
Let Bachus to Venus libations pour forth,
Let ev'ry old Bachelor fill up his glass,
Let ev'ry married man drink to his wife,
Come fill up your glasses I'll give you a toast,
Since all, with good humor, I've toasted so free,
G D7 G /
Vive la compagnie.
G / / /
And let us make use of our time while it lasts,
And drink to the health of his favorite lass,
the friend of his bosom and comfort of life,
Here's a health to our friend our kind, worthy host,
I hope it will please you to drink now with me.
G D7 G /
Vive la compagnie.
Chorus:
G / C /
Vive la vive la vive l'amour,
D7 / G /
Vive la vive la vive l'amour,
C / D /
Vive la vive la vive l'amour,
D7 / G /
Vive la compagnie.
No credits given; published by F.D. Benteen in Baltimore in 1844. This tune
is supposed to have come from France, but there is no European evidence that
this tune is of French origin.
__________________________________________________________
"Wayfaring Stranger"
(common time 4/4)
Am
I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger,
I'm going there to see my mother.
Dm Am
A traveling through this world of woe.
I'm going there, no more to roam.
Am
But there's no sickness toil or danger,
I'm just a going over Jordan,
Dm Am
In that bright world through which I go.
I'm just a going over home.
This song was originally an Appalachian spiritual which was written circa
1780; it consoled many a pioneer. Modern folk singers turned it into a folk
song.
__________________________________________________________
"Kemo Kimo"
(common time 4/4)
G / / / C G / /
In Ca - ro - li - na the folks all go,
Oh, what do you do when the rain don't fall?
There was a frog who lied in a pool.
G / / / A7 / D7 /
Sing song kitty, can't you ki - me - oh?
G / / / C G / /
There's where the folks all plant the tow,
Crops grow small instead of tall.
Sure he was the biggest fool.
G / / / / / / /
Sing song kitty, can't you ki - me - oh?
G / / / C G / /
Cover the ground all over with smoke,
Ev'ry thing seems to turn out wrong.
He could dance and he could sing.
G / / / A7 / D7 /
Sing song kitty, can't you ki - me - oh?
G / / / C G / /
Then their heads around they poke,
Cotton's short instead of long.
Make the woods aroun' him ring.
G / / / / / / /
Sing song kitty, can't you ki - me - oh?
Chorus:
G / / / / / / /
Ke - mo ki - mo, there, oh where?
D7 / G / Am / D7 / /
With my hi, my ho, and in come Sally, singin'
G / D7 / G / D7 /
Sometime penny winkle ling-tum nip-cat
G / D7 / G C G
Sing song kitty, can't you ki - me - oh?
Furnished by the Amoskeag Players; Arranged by N.L.
__________________________________________________________
"There was an old Soldier"
(march time 2/4)
D / A7 D
There was an old soldier and he had a wooden leg;
Said the one old soldier, "Hey, give me a chew!"
Well, the one old soldier he was feeling mighty bad,
Now there was an old hen and she had a wooden foot,
D / E7 A7
He had no tobacco, no tobacco could he beg.
Said the other old soldier, "I'll be damned if I do!
He said, "I'll get even, I will by gad."
And she made her nest by the mulberry root,
D D7 G Em
Another old soldier as sly as a fox,
Just save up your money and put away your rocks
He went to the corner, took his rifle from the peg,
She laid more eggs than any hen on the farm,
D / A7 /
He always kept tobacco in his old tobacco box.
And you'll always have tobacco in your old tobacco box."
And he stabbed the other soldier with a splinter from his leg.
And another wooden leg wouldn't do her any harm.
D / A7 D
He always kept tobacco in his old tobacco box.
And you'll always have tobacco in your old tobacco box."
And he stabbed the other soldier with a splinter from his leg.
And another wooden leg wouldn't do her any harm.
From Irwin Silber's "Soldier Songs and Home-front Ballads of the Civil
War"; credited as a "Traditional
American folk song".
__________________________________________________________
"Cindy"
(march time 2/4)
G / G / G / D7 /
You oughter see my Cindy, She lives a way down South.
I wish I was an apple, A-hangin' on a tree,
My Cindy got religion, She had it once before,
Now Cindy is a sweet girl, My Cindy is a peach.
If I had thread an' needle, If I knew how to sew,
G / C / G / / /
Now she's so sweet the honey bees, They swarm around her mouth.
And every time that Cindy passed, She'd take a bite of me.
But when she heard my old banjo, She leaped upon the floor.
She threw her arms around me tight , An' hung on like a leech.
I'd sew that gal tomy coat tail , And down the road I'd go.
G / / / G / D7 /
The first I seen my Cindy, A standin' in the door,
If I were made of sugar, A-standin' in the town,
She took me to her parlor, She cooled me with her fan,
She kissed me and she hugged me, She called me sugar plum,
I want my Cindy, Cindy, Her lips and arms and feet.
G / C / G Am G /
Her shoes and stockin's in her hand, Her feet spread 'round the floor.
Then every time my Cindy passed, I'd shake some sugar down.
She said I was the purtiest thing, The shape of mortal man.
She hugged so tight I hardly breathed, I thought my time had come.
I never seen another gal, That Cindy couldn't beat.
Chorus:
C / /
Git along home, Cindy, Cindy,
G / /
Git along home, Cindy, Cindy,
C / /
Git along home, Cindy, Cindy,
G D7 G /
I'll marry you some day.
This song originated circa 1805 in the Applachians; about the mid-1850's it
became a favorite of fiddle and banjo players -- a great dance tune.
__________________________________________________________
"Pop Goes the Weasel"
(march time 2/4)
C G C /
When night comes in as black as a sheep;
The lover when he pants through fear,
All New York in a rush now whirls,
/ G C /
The hen and her eggs are fast asleep.
To pop the question to his dear;
Where the World's Fair its flag unfurls,
/ G C /
Then into her nest with a serpent's creep...
He joins this dance then into her ear...
But the best World's Fair is when our girls go...
Chorus:
F G C /
Pop goes the weasel!
C F G G7
Of all the dances that ever was planned,
The temperance folks from South to Maine,
Then up from two lines as straight as a string,
C F G /
To galvanize the heel and hand,
Against all liquor spout and strain,
Dance in and out and three in a ring.
F / / /
There's none that moves so gay and grand, as
But when they feel the slightest pain,
Dive under like the duck and sing...
/ G C /
Pop goes the weasel!
Arranged by Charlie Twiggs; published by Stephen T. Gordon in New York in
1859.
__________________________________________________________
"Billy Boy"
(common time 4/4)
C / / / / / /
Oh where have you been Billy Boy, Billy Boy?
Did she ask you to come in, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?
Did she set for you a chair, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?
Can she bake a cherry pie, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?
Can she make a feather bed, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?
Just how old can she be, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?
C / / / G7 / / /
Oh where have you been charming Billy?
Did she ask you to come in charming Billy?
Did she set for you a chair charming Billy?
Can she bake a cherry pie charming Billy?
Can she make a feather bed, charming Billy?
Just how old can she be charming Billy?
G7 / / / C / /
I have been to seek a wife, she's the joy of all my life,
Yes she asked me to come in, with a dimple on her chin,
Yes she set for me a chair, she has ringlets in her hair,
Yes she can bake a cherry pie, quick's a cat can wink an eye,
Yes she can make a feather bed, put the pillows at the head,
Three times six or four times seven, two times twenty and eleven,
F C / G7 / C / / /
She's a young thing and cannot leave her mother.
This anonymous song is believed to have arrived in America just after the
Revolution, circa 1800.
__________________________________________________________
"Home Sweet Home"
(common time 4/4)
C F C / G7 / C /
Mid pleasures and palaces, though we may roam,
An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain,
I gaze on the moon as I tread the drear wild,
C F C / G7 / C /
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.
Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again,
And feel that my mother now thinks of her child,
C F C / G7 / C /
A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there,
The birds singing gaily that came to my call,
As she looks on that moon from our own cottage door,
C F C / G7 / C
Which seek through the world is ne'er met with else where.
Give me that peace of mind that's dearer than all.
Through the wood bine whose fragrance shall cheer me no more.
Chorus:
F / C / G7 / C /
Home, home, sweet home, there's no place like home,
F / C / G7 / C
Home, home, sweet home, there's no place like home.
Words by John H. Payne, music by Henry R. Bishop; published by G.E. Balke, in
Philadelphia., circa 1832.
__________________________________________________________
"The Riddle"
(common time 4/4)
G Em C G
I gave my love a cherry that has no stone.
How can there be a cherry that has no stone?
A cherry when it's bloomin' it has no stone.
D G D
I gave my love a chicken that has no bone.
How can there be a chicken that has no bone?
A chicken in an eggshell it has no bone.
Am G D
I gave my love a ring that has no end.
How can there be a ring that has no end?
A ring when it is rollin' it has no end.
C G Am G
I gave my love a baby with no cryin'
How can there be a baby with no cryin'?
A baby when it's sleepin' has no cryin'.
This Irish song reached our shores circa 1785 and gained wide popularity by
1812.
__________________________________________________________
"Aura Lea"
(common time 4/4)
G / Am / D7 / G /
When the Blackbird in the Spring, On the willow tree
In thy blush the rose was born, Music, when you spake,
Aura Lea! the bird may flee, The willow's golden hair
When the mistletow was green, Midst the winter's snows,
G / Am / D7 G /
Sat and rock! I heard him sing, Singing Aura Lea
Through thine azure eye the morn, Sparkling, seemed to break.
Swing through winter fitfully, On the stormy air.
Sunshine in thy face was seen, Kissing lips of rose.
G / Em / / Am G /
Aura Lea, Aura Lea, Maid of golden hair;
Aura Lea, Aura Lea, Birds of crimson wing
Yet if thy blue eyes I see, Gloom will soon depart;
Aura Lea, Aura Lea, Take my golden ring;
G C Am / D7 / G /
Sunshine came along with thee, And swallows in the air.
Never song have sung to me As in that sweet spring.
For to me, serry Aura Lea Is sunshine through the heart.
Love and light return with thee, And swallows with the spring.
Chorus:
G / Em / / Am G /
Aura Lea, Aura Lea, Maid of golden hair;
G C Am / D7 / G /
Sunshine came along with thee, And swallows in the air.
Words by William W. Fosdick, music by George R. Poulton; published by John
Church Jr. in Cincinnati in 1861.
__________________________________________________________
"On Top of Old Smoky"
(fast waltz 3/4)
C F / /
On top of old smoky,
A-courtin's a pleasure,
A thief he will rob you,
They'll hug you and kiss you,
My sad heart is aching,
F C / /
all covered with snow,
A-partin' is grief,
And take what you have,
And tell you more lies,
I'm weary today,
C G7 / /
I lost my true lover,
A false-hearted lover,
But a false-hearted lover
Than the leaves on the willow,
My lover has left me,
G7 C F C
A-courtin' too slow.
Is worse than a thief.
Send you to your grave.
Or the stars in the skies.
I'm a feelin' this way.
Believed to be an American Appalachian tune; was popular through-out the U.S.
by the 1840's.
__________________________________________________________
"Lorena"
(common time 4/4)
G / / / C / / / D7 / / / G / / /
The years creep slowly by Lore - na, The snow is on the grass again,
A hundred months have passed Lore - na, Since last I held that hand in mine,
We loved each other then Lore - na, More than we ever dared to tell;
The story of that past, Lore - na, Alas I care not to repeat,
Yes, these were words of thine, Lore - na, They burn within my memory yet;
It matters little now, Lore - na, The past -- is in the etermal Past,
G / / / C / / / D7 / / / G / / /
The sun's low down the sky, Lore - na, The frost gleams where the flow'rs have
been
And felt the pulse beat fast, Lore - na, Tho' mine beat faster far than thine.
And what we might have been, Lore - na, Had but our lovings prosper'd well --
The hopes that could not last, Lore - na, They lived, but only lived to cheat.
They touched some tender chords, Lore - na, Which thrill and tremble with
regret.
Our heads will soon lie low, Lore --