Roam the Country Through Lyrics

1. Jordan is a Hard Road to Travel
2. Beautiful Life
3. Girls They Go Wild Over Me
4. A Frog He Went A-Courting
5. Lass of Glenshee
6. Hitting the Trail Tonight
7. Gypsum Davy
8. Bony on the Isle of St. Helena
9. Roving Peddler
10. Days of ’49
11. Better Home
12. My Dixie Darling
13. Jamie Judge
14. Train on the Island
15. Tenting Tonight
16. It’s My Lazy Day
17. Jamestown Homeward Bound

Jordan is a Hard Road to Travel

I’m gonna sing you a brand-new song
It’s all the truth for certain
Gonna live hard, it’s hard to get by
And get on the other side of Jordan.

Haul off your overcoat and roll up your sleeves
Jordan is a hard road to travel,
Haul off your overcoat and roll up your sleeves
Jordan is a hard road to travel I believe.

Rained forty days and it rained forty nights
And it rained on the Allegheny Mountains
Rained forty horses and a Dominicker mule
But they got us to the other side of Jordan.

I know a man he’s an evangelist
His tabernacle’s always full
And the people come from miles around
Just to hear him shoot the bull.

Talk about your evangelists
Talk about your Mr. Ford too
Henry’s shaking more hell out of folks
Then all them evangelists do.

The public schools and the highways
Is raising quite an alarm
Get a country boy educated just a little
And he ain’t gonna work on the farm.

I don’t know but believe I’m right
The auto’s ruined the country
Let’s go back to the horse and buggy
And try to save some money.

Beautiful Life

Each day I’ll do some noble deed
By helping those who are in need
My life on earth is but a span
So I will do the best I can

Life’s evening sun is sinking low
A few more days and I must go
To meet the deeds that I have done
Where there will be no setting sun

To be a child of God each day
My light must shine along the way
I’ll sing his praise while ages roll
And try to help some troubled soul

While traveling down life’s weary road
I’ll try to lift some traveler’s load
I’ll try to turn his night to day
Make flowers bloom along the way

The only life that can endure
Is one that’s kind and good and pure
And so for God I’ll take my stand
And try to lend a helping hand

Girls They Go Wild Over Me

They go wild, simply wild over me,
I don’t know what it is that they see
It’s not good looks that is true
It’s those little things I do
They go wild over me

Oh, those girls they go wild over me
I don’t know what it is that they see
They would walk a country mile,
Just to see me when I smile
They go wild, simply wild over me

Oh, those girls they go wild over me
Round my neck and in my arms and on my knee
Every night when I go home they call me on the telephone
They go wild over me

I hate to talk about myself
But here’s one time I must,
In confidence and trust,
It’s speak up now or bust,
I don’t know how I get them girls,
I don’t even try at all,
I seem to hypnotize them,
They just look at me and fall.

Oh, they fight and they scrap over me
I don’t know what it is that they see
How I hate to them cry when I have to say good-bye
They go wild, over me.

A Frog He Went A-Courting

Froggy went a-courtin’ and he did ride,
Chow willie, chow willie,
Froggy went a-courtin’ and he did ride,
Chow willie wee.
Froggy went a-courtin’ and he did ride,
Sword and a pistol by his side.

Come-a-ring-tum-tiddle, come-a-ring-tum-tee,
Chow willie wee.

He rode up to Miss Mousy’s door,
And he made it rattle and he made it roar.

Miss Mousy come down and let him in,
And the way they courted it was a sin.

He took Miss Mousy on his knee,
And he said, “Miss Mousy, will you marry me?”

“Not without my Uncle Rat’s consent,
Would I marry the president.”

Where will the wedding supper be?
Down in the hollow of an old oak tree.

And how shall we make the wedding gown?
Piece of a hide of an old white hound.

Lass of Glenshee

One bright summer’s morning as the fields they were a-dawning
Bright Phoebus arose and shone over the lee
I espied a fair maid as I homeward was riding
A-herding her sheep on the braes of Glenshee

Her cheeks were like the roses and under them was a dimple
And keen was the blink of her bonny blue ee
She was neat, tall and handsome her voice so enchanting
That my heart soon belonged to the lass of Glenshee

I stood in amaze and says, “Aye bonny lassie
If you will only consent to go to Jamestown with me
Fine servants you will have for to go at your bidding
I will make you my lady, the lass of Glenshee.”

“I care not at all for your carriages to ride in
And I don’t care at all for your great grandeury
I prefer to stay here in my homespun little cottage
A-herding my flocks on the braes of Glenshee.”

“Come leave off your nonsense and get on behind me
As the sun it rolls round my fair bride you will be
No other in this world will be mistress of my castle.”
She smiled and consented; I took her with me

Many years have rolled round since we were united
Many seasons have changed, but there’s no change in me
My love she’s as fair as the robes in the morning
That are hung out to bleach on the hills of Glenshee

May the lark forget to arise in the morning
Caledonia’s dark waters roll back from the sea
But never will I, while I have my senses
Forget to be kind to the lass of Glenshee

Hitting the Trail Tonight

The moon rides high in the cloudless sky
And the stars are shining bright
The dark pines show on the hills below
The mountains capped with white
My spurs they ring and the song I sing
Is set to my horse’s stride
We gallop along to an old-time song
As out on the trail we ride

I’m hitting the trail tonight,
I’m hitting the trail tonight
My horse is pulling the bridle reins
I’m hitting the trail tonight

You can hear the sound as he strikes the ground
On the frozen trail below
His hoof beats hit and he fights the bit
He’s slinging his head to go
We’ll ride the trail ’til the stars turn pale
And camp at the break of dawn
Nobody will know which way I go
They’ll only know I’m gone

I did not try to say good-bye
Let somebody else do that
I’ll ride alone and I’ll find a home
Wherever I hang my hat
Let people that set and talk explain
Just whether I’m wrong or right
My horse is pulling the bridle reins
I’m hitting the trail tonight

The moon shines down on the rolling plains
And the tops of the mountains white
My horse is pulling the bridle reins
I’m hitting the trail tonight

Gypsum Davy

Gypsum Davy come over the hill
Singing so loud and hail-y
Made the green woods round him ring
And he won the heart of a lady

Rattle to my Gypsum, Gypsum
Rattle to my Gypsum Davy

Come go with me, my pretty fair maid,
Come go with me, my honey,
Take you ’cross the deep-blue sea
Where you never shall want for money.

She took off her high-heeled shoes
Made of Spanish leather,
She put on her low-heeled shoes,
And they rode off together.

Late that night when my lord come home
Inquiring for his lady,
The servants all did make reply,
She’s gone with Gypsum Davy.

Cut for me my coal-black steed,
He’s black but then he’s speedy,
I’ll ride all night ’till the morning light,
And overtake my lady.

He rode and he rode ’till he come to the town,
He rode ’till he come to Derby,
The tears come rolling down his cheeks,
And there he spied his lady.

Come back, come back, my own true love,
Come back with me, my honey,
And don’t forget your houses and land,
And don’t forget your baby.

I won’t come home, my own true love,
I won’t come home, my honey,
I wouldn’t give a kiss from Davy’s lips
For all your love or money.

Take off, take off your snow-white gloves
Made of Spanish leather,
Give to me your lily-white hand,
We’ll bid farewell forever.

Last night, I lay on a goose-feather bed,
All with my husband and baby,
Tonight I lie on the cold, cold ground
In the arms of Gypsum Davy.

Bony on the Isle of St. Helena

Oh, Bony he has gone from his wars all a-fightin’
He has gone to the place that he takes no delight in.
And there he may sit down and tell the scenes that he’s seen of
Whilst full long doth he mourn on the Isle of St. Helena.

Oh, Louisy she weeps for her husband’s departin’
She dreams when she sleeps and she wakes broken-hearted.
Not a friend to console her, even those who might be with her
For she mourns when she thinks on the Isle of St. Helena.

No more in St. Cloud he’ll be seen in such splendor
Or go on with his wars like the great Alexander,
For the young king of Rome and the prince of Gehenna
They have caused him to die on the Isle of St. Helena

Oh the rude rushing waves all around the shores a-washin’
And the great billows heave on the wild rocks are dashin’.
He may look to the moon o'er the great Mount Diana
With his eyes o’er the waves roll around St. Helena.

O you Parliaments of England and you Holy Alliance
To a prisoner of war you may now bid defiance.
For his base intrudin’ and his base misdemeanors
Have caused him to die on the Isle of St. Helena.

Come all you’s got wealth, pray beware of ambition
For it’s a degree of fate that may change your condition.
[Be’est it best in time]* for what’s to come you know not
For fear you may be changed like he on the Isle of St. Helena.

*Be ye steadfast in time

Roving Peddler

I am a roving peddler and I’ve roamed this country ’round
Until I took a notion to view some other ground
With my pack upon my shoulder and my cudgel in my hand
I went into New Hampshire to view that happy land

I went into New Hampshire and the girls all jumped for joy
And one said to another there’s that handsome peddler boy
They invited me to dine with them, they took me by the hand
And the toasts they did fly merrily, success to the peddler man

I went into New Hampshire and there among the maids
With my bold conversation they seemed not afraid
While I such fine things sold to them, they came to understand
The humor and good nature of the handsome peddler man

I went into a tavern and there all night I stayed
The landlady’s fair daughter of me was not afraid
She hugged me, and she kissed me, and she took me by the hand
And shyly told her mother that she loved the peddler man

But early the next morning as I was going away
The landlady’s fair daughter these words to me did say
How can you be so cruel and treat me so unkind
And go once more a-roaming and to leave me here behind

But I’ll leave off my peddling and I’ll take to me a wife
For with this handsome fair maid I’ll gladly spend my life
I’ll embrace her late and early and do the best I can
To make her bless the day she wed the handsome peddler man

Days of ’49

I’m old Tom Moore from the Bummer’s shore in the good old Golden Days
They call me a bummer and a gin-sot too, but what cares I for praise?
I ramble around from town to town, just like a roving sign
And the people all say, “There goes Tom Moore, from the days of forty-nine.”

In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft-times I repine
In the days of old, when we dug up the gold
In the days of forty-nine

There was New York Jake, the butcher’s boy, he was always getting tight,
And every time that he got full he was looking for a fight.
One night he fell up against a knife in the hands of old Bob Kline;
And over Jake we held a wake in the days of ’49.

There was Nantuck Pete, I knew him well, a fellow that was fond of tricks.
At a poker game he was always there and ready with his bricks,
He’d ante up and draw his cards, and go in a hat full blind.
In a game of bluff, Pete lost his breath in the days of ’49.

There was poor old Jess, the old lame cuss, who never would relent.
Her was never known to miss a drink or ever spend a cent.
At length old Jess, like all the rest, who never would decline,
All in his bloom went up the flume in the days of ’49.

There was Roaring Bill from Buffalo, forget him I never will.
He’d roar all night and he’d roar all day and I guess he’s roaring still.
One night he fell into a prospector’s hole in a roaring bad design,
In that hole roared out his soul in the days of ’49

Better Home

Since I heard about a better home
I will leave this old world here below
Just slip away most any day to heaven’s shore
I’ll find sweet peace beyond the gates forevermore.

And I’ll reach home, O praise the Lord, some sweet day
When I walk up that great Milky Way
Goodbye old world, good morning there, before the throne
What a singing there will be when I get home.

When I move up there to settle down
When I step inside the gates to look around
I want at least a million years to view the throne
So many friends I want to see when I get home.

O Lord, hear my prayer before I leave
May I live so this old world will follow me
All the friends you gave to me while here below
I want to meet each one of them when life is through.

My Dixie Darling

Way down below the Mason-Dixon line
Down where the honeysuckles are entwined
That’s where the southern breeze blowing
That’s where the daisies growing
Girls of the north in the gay finery
Twirling ’round in society
Singing songs of Dixie darling
That’s where I long to be

My Dixie Darling
Listen to this song I sing
Beneath the silver moon
With my banjo right in tune
My heart is ever true
I love no one but you
My Dixie darling
My Dixie queen

Going down south to have a good time
See my girl in old Caroline
Drink my booze and do as I please
With all those girls I long to squeeze
Singing songs of Dixie darling
There’s where I long to be going
Down where the jellyroll rolling
With my Dixie queen

Girls of the north in their gay finery
Whirling around in society
Somehow to me never seemed so appealing
Over me there comes a feeling
That’s where the girls fill my heart with delight
Banjo in tune and the moon shining bright
Singing songs of Dixie darling
There’s where I long to be.

Jamie Judge

Come all ye undaunted heroes,
Who ride the restless deep,
Think on this heartful young man
Who underneath doth sleep.
He was just as fine a young man
As ever you did see,
And on yon Bonshee River
He met his destiny.

It was on yon Bonshee River
One mile below Renfrew,
Where he went out to break a jam
And with the jam went through.
In vain was his activity
His precious life to save,
In spite of his exertions
He met with a watery grave.

When they took him from the water,
It would grieve your heart full sore,
To see his handsome features
By the rocks all cut and tore,
To see so fine a young man
Cut down in all his bloom.
It was on yon Bonshee River
He met with an awful doom.

This young man’s name was James A. Judge,
I mean to let you know.
I mean to sound his praises
Wherever I do go.
His hair hung down in ring-u-lets,
His flesh was white as snow,
And he was admired by all the girls
Wherever he did go.

Train on the Island

Train on the Island, thought I heard it blow,
Go and tell my true love I’m sick and I can’t go.
[third line of music; no text]
And I can’t roll the wheel

Train on the island, thought I heard it squeal
Go tell my true love, I can’t roll the wheel
And I can’t roll the wheel

Train on the Island, heading for the west,
Me and my gal we fell out, it might be for the best.
And I can’t roll the wheel

Make me a banjo out of a gourd, string it up with twine,
The only tune that I can play, I wish that gal was mine.
And I can’t roll the wheel

Show me the crow that flies so high, show me one that falls,
If I can’t get the gal I want, I don’t want none at all.

Tenting Tonight

We are tenting tonight on the old camp-ground
Give us a song to cheer
Our weary hearts, a song of home
And ones we love so dear.

Many are the hearts that are weary tonight
Wishing for the war to cease,
Many are the hearts looking for the right
To see the dawn of peace.
Tenting tonight, tenting tonight
Tenting on the old camp-ground.

We’re tenting tonight on the old camp-ground,
Thinking of days gone by
Of the loved ones at home who gave us the hand,
And the tear that said, “Good-bye!”

We’re tenting tonight on the old camp-ground
Fires are flickering low
Still on the ground the sleepers lie
While the sentinels come and go

We are weary of war on the old camp-ground;
Many are wounded long
Of the brave and true who've left their homes;
Others been wounded long.

It’s My Lazy Day

Well I might-a gone fishing, got to thinking it over
That road to the river it’s a mighty long way
No rhyme or no reason, it must be the season
Just takin’ it easy, it’s my lazy day.

Well, never mind callin’, ’cause I ain’t a-comin’
Just pass you on by me, stay out of my way
Just a little deep thinkin’ might drive me to drinkin’
Just takin’ it easy, it’s my lazy day.

I’m findin’ it easy just to mind my own business
I’m keepin’ my nose out of everyone’s way
Ain’t takin’ any orders or hirin’ any people
I’m takin’ it easy, it’s my lazy day.

Ain’t asking any questions, or giving advices
Ain’t dating any women, ain’t wanting to play
Don’t want to meet cupid, just want to look stupid
Takin’ it easy, it’s my lazy day.

Jamestown Homeward Bound

The farmer’s heart with joy is filled
When his crops are good and sound;
But who can feel the wild delight
Of the sailor homeward bound?
For three long years have passed away
Since we left old freedom’s shore,
Our long-felt wish has come at last
And we’re homeward bound once more,
And we’re homeward bound once more.

To where the sky’s as clear as the maiden’s eye
Who longs for our return,
To the land where milk and honey flows
And liberty it was born.
So fill our sails with the favoring gales,
And with shipmates all around
We’ll give three cheers for our starry flag
And the Jamestown homeward bound.

And now we have arrived in port
And stripping’s our last job,
And friendly faces look around
In search of Bill or Bob.
They see that we are safe at last
From the perils of the sea;
Saying, “You’re welcome, Columbia’s mariners
To your homes and liberty.”

Roam the Country Through ©2021 WildGoose Records