Lyr. Add: THE FALSE TRUE-LOVER
(Belden, Coll. 1906, Missouri)
^^
I am going away, my own true love,
To tarry for a while,
Though I'm coming back, my own true love,
It may be ten thousand miles.

Ten thousand miles, my own true love,
To Scotland, France and Spain;
I never will be satisfied
Until I see your face again.

I'll plant me a red and rosy bush
And a weeping willow tree,
And that will prove to this wide world around
That you have forsaken me.

If I forsake you, my own true love,
The regions they will burn,
The fire will freeze like ice, my love,
And the sun will refuse to shine.

Oh, who will shoe my pretty little feet,
And who will glove my hand,
And who will kiss my red and rosy cheeks,
While you're in the distant land?

Your father will shoe your pretty little feet,
Your mother will glove your hand,
And I will kiss your red and rosy cheeks
When I return from the distant land.

Oh, don't you see that pretty little girl
Spinning on yonder wheel?
Ten thousand worlds like this would I give
To feel as she does feel.

Oh, don't you see that lonesome turtle dove
Sitting on yonder vine.
Lamenting over its own true love
As I do lament o'er mine?

I wish to the Lord I had never been born,
Or died when I was young,
Than to be left in this wilderness of woe,
My love, while you are gone.

Oh, hush up, darling, don't break my heart,
For I hate to hear you cry.
Ten thousand true lovers has parted in this world,
And why not you and I?

Secured by G. W. Ridgway in 1906 from Mattie White of Rucker, Boone Co., Missouri. A duet version.
Contains elements of Child 46, "The Lass of Roch Royal." Some verses or lines appear in songs about John Henry, and John Hardy, and other songs collected from African-Americans.

H. M. Belden, editor, 1940 (1973), "Ballads and Songs Collected by the Missouri Folk-Lore Society," pp. 480-481, without music.

Lyr. Add: GEORGIE JEEMS

Oh who will shoe my narrow, narrow foot,
And who will glove my hand,
And who will wrap my narrow, narrow waist
With a new-made London band?

Oh who will comb my yellow, yellow hair,
Witj a new-made silver comb,
And who will father my pretty little babe
Till Georgie Jeems comes home?

Fair Annie she stood at her true love's door,
And tirled the drawling pin,
Rise up, rise up, young Georgie Jeems,
And let your true love in.

Then up rose his false, false lady,
Says who's a-wanting in?

Oh don't you remember, young Georgie Jeems,
When we two sat to dine,
You taken the ring from off my hand
And changed your ring for mine.

And yours was good and very, very good,
But not as good as mine,
For yours was of the good red gold
But mine the diamonds fine.

"When the 'false lady' told Annie that Georgie was married," says Mrs. Carlisle, "Annie left. Pretty soon Georgie got up and ran after her crying 'Annie, won't you bide?' This is the last line of a stanza, I think, and the last line of the song that I remember."
Sung by Mrs. Irene Carlisle, Fayetteville, Arkansas, 1941, learned from grandmother about 1912.
Randolph, Ozark Folksongs, vol. 1, song 18G ("Oh Who Will Shoe My Foot?), with music.

"He's Gone Away," with midi, is in the Mudcat DT (from Sandburg, "American Songbag"). This will be very close to the Battle rendition.
See sheet music at numachi: Gone Away

Lyrics also at Gone Away

A choral version (sound clip at Amazon) in the cd by The Mormon Tabernacle Choir, "Songs of the Civil War and Stephen Foster Favorites," track 4 of 22.