ALL THE PRETTY LITTLE HORSES

Hush-you-bye,
Don't you cry,
Go to sleepy, little baby.
When you wake,
You shall have
All the pretty little horses —
Blacks and bays,
Dapples and grays,
Coach and six-a little horses
Hush-you-bye,
Don't you cry,
Go to sleepy, little baby.

Hush-you-bye,
Don't you cry,
Go to sleepy, little baby.
Way down yonder
In de medder
Lies a po' lil' lambie;
De bees an' de butterflies
Peckin' out its eyes,
De po' lil' thing cried, "Mammy!"
Hush-you-bye,
Don't you cry,
Go to sleepy, little baby.


Notes: This song has been treasured by many a Southern family, Negro and white; it is the classic of Southern lullabies. It is sung in a thousand different ways by as many singers; the "pretty little horses" may be "blacks and bays" or "dapples and grays," but, whatever their color, they have carried almost every Southern child off to sleep at one time or another. Here is what Shirley Lomax Mansell says about the way the song was sung in our family:
"All the Pretty Little Horses" is a family song. There is not a time when I do not remember it. I am sure it was Grandmother Brown's song; and from our mother it now belongs to her four children. Grandmother was a hymn singer, and on Sunday afternoons alone in her room, when she rocked back and forth in her little straight, cane-bottomed rocker, she sang all the slow, sad ones— "Abide With Me," "Rock of Ages," and "Yield Not to Temptation." Grandmother did not believe that on Sunday people should do anything but attend Sunday School, then Church, then read the Bible until time to go to evening services. Her disapproval of our Sunday afternoon walks, when the children from all the neighborhood gathered to explore the woods, caused her to shut herself into her room and rock and sing, and, I am sure, pray for forgiveness for us all. Her lips would shut into a thin line and her eyes fill with tears.
But Grandmother Brown loved babies, and she sang to us all, and rocked us, hours and hours, in that same little chair. "All the Pretty Little Horses" is her wonderful lullaby. She would put in a line or two of hums at the end, drift the baby off to sleep, floating with the little horses, the song blending with the squeak of the rocker and the pat of the foot on the rug. I still sing the song to my girls when they are ill.

From Best Loved American Folk Songs (Folk Song U.S.A.), by John & Alan Lomax (1947), #2, pp. 13-14.

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The version in the Digital Tradition is a little bit different. I can't figure out where it comes from:

ALL THE PRETTY LITTLE HORSES (from DT)

Hushaby, don' you cry
Go to sleepy little baby

When you awake you shall have cake
And all the pretty little horses.
Blacks and Bays, Dapples and Grays
Coach, and a six a little horses.

So hushaby, etc.

Way down yonda', down in the medder
There's a poor little lambie.
Bees an' the butterflies peckin' out his eyes
Poor lambie cried fo' his mammy.

But hushaby, etc.
Folk Song U.S.A., Lomax
@lullaby
filename[ ALLHORSE
TUNE FILE: ALLHORSE
CLICK TO PLAY