In the Pines, Where the Sun Never Shines, Lyric Variant 01
 


Citation

“In the Pines, Where the Sun Never Shines, Lyric Variant 01,” Appalachian State University Libraries Digital Collections, accessed December 7, 2024, https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/items/show/31612.


Comments

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Title

In the Pines, Where the Sun Never Shines, Lyric Variant 01

Description

This item is part of the I. G. Greer Folksong Collection which consists of more than 300 individual song titles and their variants as collected by Isaac Garfield Greer (1881-1967) from informants, primarily in Ashe, Wilkes and Watauga counties. The collection includes manuscripts, typescript transcriptions produced by Dr. Greer’s clerical staff, and handwritten musical notations. Songs range from traditional Child Ballads, traditional English and Scottish ballads as well as their American variants, to 19th century popular music to musical compositions of local origin.

Subject

Folk songs
Unrequited love--Songs and music
Birds--Songs and music
Grief--Songs and music
Forests and forestry--Songs and music

Alternative Title

The Lonsome Dove, The Pines, There's More Than One, Mobiline, The Lonesome Pine

Publisher

W. L. Eury Appalachian Collection, Appalachian State University

Contributor

Greer, I. G. (Isaac Garfield), 1881-1967

Format

PDF

Language

English

Type

Text

Spatial Coverage

Transcription

Collected by John Bennett: 37 Legare St., Charleston, So.Ca. 1893-1922:

In The Pines

In the pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines,
I shiver when the cold wind blows.
I am going away for a year and a day
On the longerest road that I knows.

Oh, don’t you see yon lonesome dove
Flying from pine to pine?
If a dove can mourn for her true love
Why can’t I mourn for mine?

Refrain: In the pines, etc.

Oh, don’t you see yonder crow flying high,
With quills as black as night?
I will never be false to you
Until that crow turns white.

He taken the Bible into his hands
And swore by black and white
If ever I prove false to you
Bright day shall turn to night,

Oh, my lover, tell me true,
Where did you stay last night?
The wind blew cold on old Bald Mountain,
And the stars were a-shining bright.

I would that your dear breast were made out of glass
That I might read you through.
Then I moughten’t fear a lying tongue
But know that your heart were true.

Come in, come in, my old true love,
Come set you down by me.
It has been more than a year and a day
Since I spoken a word with thee.

I can’t come in, and I can’t sit down,
For I hain’t got a moment of time.
Since you are engaged with another true love
Your heart no longer is mine.

You know what you told me, love,
And you know what you said.
You know what you promised me,
And you know what you did.

I’ll never believe what another man says
Let his eyes be blue or brown,
Unless he be up on the gallows-tree
Saying ‘Love, I’d much rather come down!’

Oh, when your heart were mine, true love,
And my head lay on your breast,
You could make me believe by the falling of your arm
That the sun rose up in the west.

There’s many a bright star shall jingle in the west,
And many a leaf shall fall below,
And there’s many a damn shall fall upon a man
For serving a poor girl so!

There’s many a girl goes gay about
To hear the small birds sing,
Who, before she’s done shall set alone
And cry for a wedding-ring .

I cried, last night, when I comed home,
I cried the night before.
I’ll cry, to-night, till my eyes pump sand,
And then I’ll cry no more!

Close with the refrain.

Collector

John Bennett, 1865-1956

Collector Note

Children's book author, activist in cultural life of Charleston, SC, married to Susan Smythe of Charleston, whose grandmother was antebellum author Louisa McCord. Bennett's biography written by Harlan Greene

Scholarly Classification

Brown, Folk Lyric - 283

File name

113_InThePines_Lyric_01_ocr

Comments

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