ARTHUR CLYDE

I am dying, sister, dying
And my voice is getting low
I have something I must tell you
Sister dear, before I go

It is sad but true, dear sister
Catch each sad and awful word
Soon your brother will be sleeping
And his voice no longer heard

Sister dear, your Arthur's missing
But you hope to meet him still
Hope that some bright day you'll meet him
Sister dear, you never will

Him you loved, was him I hated
Hated why, I cannot tell
But to see him with you sister,
It was more than life to me

So, I chanced one eve in autumn
While th moon did brightly show
Strolling by th rolling river
I met Arthur all alone

Words that passed, I don't remember
But I in a passion flew
And I fought him sword and dagger
Then and there, your Arthur slew

Then I thought of you, my sister
O, so young, to be left alone
An' ten-thousand worlds I'd given
To undue th deed I done

But I knew that all my weeping
All th tears that I could shed
Would not bring life to your Arthur
Lying there, so cold and dead

So, I picked up his lifeless body
Rolled it over th river side
Now I leave this world to wonder
What became of Arthur Clyde

You'll forgive me, won't you, sister
O, this awful deed I've done
Speak, I cannot live much longer
Life's free race is nearly run

You will meet your love in heaven
In a world that knows no sin
You will meet, dear me, no never
God won't let a murderer in

When I stand before my maker
O, this awful deed to tell
Kiss, o kiss, your dying brother
Sister dear, farewell, farewell

Cat. #0150 (MFH #5) - As sung by Mrs. Sam "Iva" Haslett, West Plains, Missouri on July 31, 1958

Arthur Clyde

From the . . . .

Max Hunter Folk Song Collection

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Arthur Clyde

From . . . .

Voices From the Dust Bowl