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American Folk Songs Book 1

SCORE
Sweet Betsy from Pike
I Asked that Girl to Marry Me
Home on the Range
The Streets of Laredo
The Old Gray Goose
Red River Valley
I Ride an Old Paint

PROGRAM NOTE
Sweet Betsy from Pike is jumpy and bright, as are the indomitable Betsy and her husband Ike, with lots of rising figures and loud chords in odd places; In I Asked That Girl to Marry Me a simple piano melody leads to a quiet, inward, troubled song in which what is said and what is meant are two different things; Home on the Range is a chromatic, slippery setting framed by vaguely churchy music—reminiscent perhaps of a harmonium at a revivalist meeting; The Streets of Laredo becomes increasingly busy towards the center of the song and the young cowboy's remembrance of his glory days, returning at the the close to sparse, empty textures; The Old Gray Goose has a squawking, crunchy accompaniment with lots of minor seconds and barnyard flurrying; The Red River Valley moves from a simple setting of gentle arpeggiated chords to a dark, threatening, atmosphere with unspoken violence in the air; I Ride an Old Paint is a jaunty 3/4 setting with occasional high tremolandi which properly belong in the saloon bar of an old cowboy movie.

TEXTS
Sweet Betsy from Pike
Did ever you hear of Sweet Betsy from Pike, 
Who crossed the big mountains with her lover, Ike, 
With two yoke of cattle, a large yellow dog,
A tall Shanghai rooster, and one spotted hog. 

They soon reached the desert, where Betsy gave out,
And down in the sand she lay rolling about; 
While Ike, in great tears, looked on in surprise,
Saying “Betsy, get up, you´ll get sand in your eyes.” 

The Shanghai run off and the cattle all died;
The last piece of bacon that morning was fried,
Poor Ike got discouraged, and Betsy got mad;
The dog wagged his tail and looked wonderful sad. 

One morning they climbed up a very high hill,
And with wonder looked down into old Placerville;
Ike shouted and said, as he cast his eyes down,
“Sweet Betsy, my darling, we've got to Hangtown!” 

“Oh it's good-bye Pike County, farewell for a while; 
We'll come back again when we've panned out our pile.” 


I Asked that Girl to Marry Me
I asked that girl to marry me;
She said, “Oh no! I'd rather be free.” 

I asked that girl to be my wife;
She cut at me with an old case knife. 

I asked that girl to be my bride;
She sat right down and cried and cried. 

And the more she cried the worse I felt,
Till I thought to my soul my heart would melt. 


Home on the Range
Oh give me a home where the buffalo roam, 
Where the deer and the antelope play; 
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day. 

Home, home on the range, 
Where the deer and the antelope play;
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day. 

How often at night, when the heavens are bright
With the light from the glittering stars,
Have I stood there amazed and asked, as I gazed,
If their glory exceeds that of ours? 

Home, home on the range,
Where the deer and the antelope play; 
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day. 



The Streets of Laredo
As I walked out in the streets of Laredo,
As I walked out in Laredo one day,
I spied a young cowboy wrapped up in white linen, 
Wrapped up in white linen and cold as the clay. 

“I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy,”
These words he did say as I boldly stepped by.
“Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story;
I was shot in the breast and I know I must die. 

“Let sixteen gamblers come handle my coffin,
Let sixteen cowboys come sing me a song,
Take me to the graveyard and lay the sod o'er me,
For I'm a poor cowboy and I know I've done wrong. 

“It was once in the saddle I used to go dashing,
It was once in the saddle I used to go gay.
'Twas first to drinking and then to card playing,
Got shot in the breast, I am dying today. 

“Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin,
Get six pretty girls to carry my pall;
Put bunches of roses all over my coffin,
Put roses to deaden the clods as they fall. 

“O beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly
And play the dead march as you carry me along,
Take me to the green valley and lay the sod o'er me,
For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong.” 

We beat the drum slowly and played the fife lowly, 
And bitterly wept as we bore him along;
For we all loved our comrade, so brave, young, and handsome,
We all loved our comrade although he'd done wrong. 


The Old Gray Goose
Go tell Aunt Rhodie, 
Go tell Aunt Rhodie,
Go tell Aunt Rhodie,
The old gray goose is dead. 

The one she'd been saving
To make a feather bed. 

She died in the barnyard
A standing on her head. 

Her goslings are crying
Because their mother's dead. 

The gander is weeping
Because his love is dead. 

The barnyard is mourning 
Waiting to be fed. 

Boo hoo! 
Boo hoo! 

The old gray goose is dead. 


Red River Valley
From this valley they say you are going, 
We will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile,
For they say you are taking the sunshine
That brightens or pathway a while. 

Come and sit by my side if you love me,
Do not hasten to bid me adieu,
But remember the Red River Valley,
And the one that has loved you so true. 

I have promised you, darling, that never 
Will a word from my lips cause you pain;
And my life, it will be yours forever
If you only will love me again. 

Come and sit by my side if you love me,
Do not hasten to bid me adieu,
But remember the Red River Valley,
And the one that has loved you so true. 


I Ride an Old Paint
I ride an old Paint, I lead an old Dan,
I'm goin' to Montana for to throw the hoolihan.
They feed in the coulees, they water in the draw,
Their tails are all matted, their backs are all raw. 

Ride around, little dogies,
Ride around them slow,
For the fiery and the snuffy
Are a-rarin' to go. 

Old Bill Jones had two daughters and a song
One went to Denver and the other went wrong,
His wife she died in a poolroom fight,
Still he sings from mornin' to night. 

Ride around, little dogies,
Ride around them slow,
For the fiery and the snuffy
Are a-rarin' to go. 

Oh, when I die, take my saddle from the wall
Put it on my pony, lead him out his stall.
Tie my bones to his back, turn our faces to the West,
And we'll ride the prairie that we love the best. 

Ride around, little dogies,
Ride around them slow, 
For the fiery and the snuffy
Are a-rarin' to go.