Matthew Sabatella and the Rambling String Band

Hymnary Friends,

And in the second verse, it says, "What a great camp meeting we will have that day," which to me is saying that there will be singing and praying in heaven that will be better and more joyful than anything on earth. Um, have I just stated the obvious, or is this a little of what you're looking for? And how about the robe that fits too soon?

Is the narrator pregnant? And if you read the whole thing, the narration seems to shift from masculine to feminine. Was the topic of lively discussion the other night. Thought i could get new ideas here. Thanks for the thoughts, all, specially to Ferrara. The narration is done by an older person, clearly. That's why the banjo is now just hanging on the wall -- ran out of energy, hands arthritic, whatever.

And "the old grey horse that I used to ride" is another bit of nostalgia for the days when the narrator and the horse were both younger and livelier. The robe doesn't imply a female singer. Everybody in heaven got a harp and a robe in those days. And men as well as women wore white kid gloves on formal occasions. Again, few African Americans could afford them, so the reference in the song is to symbolic kid gloves, ie they are a symbol of something fine to be worn to a special place.

Even the "sweet sixteen" doesn't really imply a female, although it struck me that way at first too.


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It implies innocence, a lack of worldliness that was the right way to approach the coming trip to heaven. And I don't think women wore ulster coats, which I have always taken to be a heavy form of overcoat.

Oh, Dem Golden Slippers

Okay, I don't want to beat it to death, but I have been singing this a lot lately and I had to think about the words because there are just a couple of places it has to be brought up to date. This may outrage some people, but I changed "we'll telegraph the news to Uncle 'Bacca Juice" to "we'll telegraph the news to Uncle Willie Bruce," because the original was just too much of a negative stereotype for my taste. And sometimes I sing "overcoats" instead of "Ulster coats," but aside from taking out the dialect I think those are the only changes.


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The dialect was actually more singable, by the way. Bland had a genius for matching lyrics and tune.


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Will borrow that one from you. Ted, you're right about being drunk while watching the Mummers' Parade, but it wasn't exactly de rigueur for an 8 year old. Though, sadly, it's much more likely for an 8 year old in than it was in And I hear they don't even march down Broad Street any more. Or, as the Japanese Girl Scout said, "O, tempura! Dicho Frank Staplin Date: Original words by James A.

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Bland, Oh, my golden slippers am laid away Kase I don't 'spect to wear 'em till my weddin' day, And my long-tailed coat, dat I love so well, I will wear up in de chariot in de morn; And my long white robe dat I bought last June, I'm gwine to git changed kase it fits too soon, And de ole grey hoss dat I used to drive, I will hitch him to de chariot in de morn. Click the Donate button below to be taken to a secure giving site.

Or you can make your tax-deductible contribution by sending a check to Hymnary. O dem golden slippers, O dem golden slippers! Golden slippers I'se gwine to wear, bekase dey look so neat; O dem golden slippers, O dem golden slippers, Golden slippers I'se gwine to wear To walk de golden street. Bland no biographical information available about J. O, my golden slippers Title: Two books of beloved traditional children's songs and nursery rhymes for the price of one!

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Oh them golden slippers, Ferko String theranchhands.com4

Please contribute a traditional song or rhyme from your country. Dunbar was an American poet, novelist and playwright. His parents had been slaves before the Civil War. He started writing as a child and had his first poems published at age Dunbar wrote in both standard English [ Dunbar is one of my [ You can listen to a recording of the poem below and read along with the text. Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, Two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward offered, for they are gone forever. You can read the poem below and then watch the lovely video… Snow by Mary Mapes Dodge Little white feathers, filling the air — Little white feathers!