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Dear Creatures, We Can't Do Without 'em

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keberoxu 19 Jul 16 - 06:04 PM
keberoxu 19 Jul 16 - 06:22 PM
keberoxu 19 Jul 16 - 06:41 PM
keberoxu 19 Jul 16 - 06:48 PM
keberoxu 19 Jul 16 - 06:58 PM
leeneia 20 Jul 16 - 12:23 PM
keberoxu 20 Jul 16 - 03:25 PM
keberoxu 21 Jul 16 - 02:38 PM
keberoxu 21 Jul 16 - 02:53 PM
keberoxu 21 Jul 16 - 03:15 PM
keberoxu 24 Jul 16 - 06:11 PM
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Subject: Nothing In Life Can Sadden Us
From: keberoxu
Date: 19 Jul 16 - 06:04 PM

On one of many Thomas Moore threads at Mudcat, a dear departed member asked after the tune to this lyric.
It is often cited under the title Nothing [In Life] Can Sadden Us.

The preceding title is the opening line of the first verse. However,
the song -- especially the tune -- was often cited by the opening line of the chorus, which is the thread title.

It seems that this was published under the pseudonym Thomas Little, and in retrospect Thomas Little is frequently identified as Thomas Moore. Anyone who knows anything more about the tune as such, is welcome to speak up, as the tune is new to me.

Future posts will contribute Moore a/k/a Little's song lyric, as well as other lyrics/parodies fitted to the same tune.

I have failed in my attempts, just now, to link to the page at which lists this tune, without any lyrics.

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From: keberoxu
Date: 19 Jul 16 - 06:22 PM

Ah, well. Probably another way around that obstacle. In the meantime, to Thomas Moore.


[words: Thomas Moore a/k/a Thomas Little; music - ?]

1. Oh! nothing in life can sadden us
   While we have wine and good humour in store
   With this and a little of love to madden us
   Show me the fool that can labour for more

   Come then bid Ganymede fill ev'ry bowl for you
   Fill them up brimmers and drink as I call
   I'm going to toast ev'ry nymph of my soul for you
   Aye, on my soul, I'm in love with them all

Dear creatures! we can't live without them   
    They're all that is sweet and seducing to man
Looking, sighing about and about them
    We dote on them, die for them, all that we can

2.   Here's Phillis! whose innocent bosom
      Is always agog for some novel desires
      Today to get lovers, tomorrow to lose 'em
      Is all that the innocent Phillis requires

      Here's to the gay little Jessy, who simpers
      So vastly good humour'd, whatever is done
      She'll kiss you and that without whining or whimpers
      And do what you please with you, all out of fun

3.    A bumper to Fanny! I know you will scorn her
      Because she's a prude and her nose is so curl'd
      But if ever you chatted with Fan in a corner
      You'd say she's the best little girl in the world

      Another to Lyddy! still struggling with duty
      and asking her conscience still, "whether she should"
      While her eyes, in the silent confession of beauty
      Say "Only for something I certainly would"

4.    Fill for Chloe! bewitchingly simple
      Who angles the heart without knowing her lure
      Still wounding around with a blush or a dimple
      Nor seeming to feel that she also could cure

      Here's pious Susan! the saint who alone, sir,
      Could ever have made me religious outright
      For had I such a dear little saint of my own, sir,
      I'd pray on my knees to her half the long night

from The Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Little, fifteenth edition
London: James Carpenter, 1822
pp. 107 - 109

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Subject: RE: Dear Creatures, We Can't Do Without 'em
From: keberoxu
Date: 19 Jul 16 - 06:41 PM

By 1828, the lyric had found a home in this collection:

The Universal Songster: or, Museum of Mirth: Forming The Most Complete, Extensive, and Valuable Collection of Ancient and Modern Songs in the English Language: With a Copious and Classified Index,
Which Will, Under its Various Heads, Refer the Reader to the Following Description of Songs, viz.

Ancient, Amatory, Bacchanalian, Comic [English], Dibdin's Miscellaneous, Duets, Trios, Glees, Choruses, Irish, Jews, Masonic, Military, Naval, Scotch, Sentimental, Sporting, Welsh, Et Cetera.
Volume II.
London: Jones & Co., 1829

where it is credited to "T. Moore."

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Subject: RE: Dear Creatures, We Can't Do Without 'em
From: keberoxu
Date: 19 Jul 16 - 06:48 PM

Let's see if this link will work:

Nothing In Life Can Sadden Us

OOPS. No, not quite. That link will get you to the home page. Then you have to enter the search yourself. There are, however, eight search results once you put it through. Sigh.

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Subject: RE: Dear Creatures, We Can't Do Without 'em
From: keberoxu
Date: 19 Jul 16 - 06:58 PM

And by the 1830's, the chorus had mutated to:

Dear Creatures, we can't do without them...

Dear Little Creatures, we can't do without them...

The Dear Little Creatures, we can't do without them...

Sweet Dear Little Creatures, we can't do without them...

along with versions that maintained Moore's 'We can't LIVE without them."

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Subject: RE: Dear Creatures, We Can't Do Without 'em
From: leeneia
Date: 20 Jul 16 - 12:23 PM

Thanks, keberoxu. It's an interesting old song.

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Subject: RE: Dear Creatures, We Can't Do Without 'em
From: keberoxu
Date: 20 Jul 16 - 03:25 PM

I warned you, in the original post, that parodies would follow.


[words: Rev. John Graham; tune, traditional Irish "Dear Creatures We Can't Do Without Them"]

1.    Oh! There's not in the wide world a race that can beat us,
      from Canada's cold hills to sultry Japan,
      While we fatten and feast on the smiling potatoes
      Of Erin's green valleys so friendly to man.

      It is not an abundance that Pat calls a plenty
      Of plain simple fare the potato supplies;
      But milk, beef, and butter and bacon so dainty,
      Hens, ducks, geese and turkeys, and fat mutton-pies.

Sweet roots of Erin! we can't do without them:
No tongue can express their importance to man.
Poor Corporal Cobbett knows nothing about them;
We'll boil them and eat them as long as we can.

2.    In the skirts of our bogs, that are covered with rushes,
      In dales, that we till with the sweat of our brow,
      On the wild mountain side, cleared of heath, rocks and bushes,
      We plant the kind root with the spade or the plough.

      Then come the south breezes, with soft vernal showers,
      To finish the process that man has begun,
      And orange and purple and lily-white flowers
      Reflect in bright lustre the rays of the sun.

3.    The ground, too, thus broke and brought in by potatoes,
      Produces the cream of our northern cheer,
      In crops of rich barley, that comfort and treat us
      To Innishone whisky, and Maghera beer.

      Then here's to the brave boys that plant them and raise them,
      To fatten their pigs, and their weans, and their wives:
      May none of the Corporal's principles seize them,
      To shorten their days or embitter their lives.

Rev. John Graham was a native of co. Longford; as rector, he worked, and died, in Magilligan, co. Derry. Published "several volumes of verse."

from page 57, An Anthology of the Potato

as for CORPORAL COBBETT: see the "Potato Battle" thread at Mudcat.

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Subject: RE: Dear Creatures, We Can't Do Without 'em
From: keberoxu
Date: 21 Jul 16 - 02:38 PM

another parody:

Oh there's nought in the wide world but grief and vexation,
Each Fair Sunny Vision deluding our sight;
From the days when Tom Paine would enlighten our nation,
To Buonaparte's tumble at Waterloo fight.

But the Visions are gone, though the boys in their morning
Through Erin's green valleys still scatter a light,
When shooting the Proctors, or carding, or burning,
or threshing the Sassonagh Dhu in the night.

Sweet sons of Erin, they can't do without us,
We teach them the rights and importance of man;
They kindle confusion around and about us,
We'll bawl for them, brawl for them, all that we can.

Come let us drink, boys, though sad, sick and weary,
Before we determine what next we'll be at;
Toast the Dingers and Dowzers of sweet Tipperary,
The Shanavest hardy, the true Caravat.
A bumper to Norwich, both writing and voting,
A glass for Gandolphy so faithful and true,
A fig for His Holiness dreaming or doting,
Confusion to Grattan and Donoughmore too.

Here's to Dan Dowzer, though far from old Desmond,
No bullet can graze him before or behind;
Like Murphy protected, exalted like Esmond,
For Erin, lost Erin, he'll swing in the wind.
But who that loves Relics, Bells, Bulls, Beads, or Masses,
Or thinks Quarantotti a rogue or a fool,
Will refuse to drink bumpers, in three times three glasses,
Fill'd up to the health of brave Doctor Dromgoole.

page 134,
The Patriotic Songster
Strabane: Joseph Alexander, 1815
(neither author nor editor are identified)

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Subject: Jack Whiskey (parody)
From: keberoxu
Date: 21 Jul 16 - 02:53 PM


[words: anonymous; tune: Dear Creatures we can't do without them]

Beginning of Verse I, as well as
Ye true-hearted Britons of Tamlaght O'Crilly,
Ye Christian dissenters that meet in Kilrea,
Is there one man among you so base or so silly,
As to suffer JACK WHISKEY to lead him astray?

For Jack's in the Jug, and his plans in disorder,
His lodging's unlet, and his friends all away,
With his pipe, and his mug, and his Ulster Recorder,
He looks through the jail bars in Derry today.

Verse II
In the year Ninety-Eight, when the Croppies were busy,
Our Best of Good Kings and his laws to defy,
Jack's head with Republican fancies grew dizzy,
His finger he longed to dip into the pie.

But his heart in the midst of his fine projects failed him,
He mounted his pillion, in petticoats clad,
Was hunted and caught, and when nobody bailed him,
Was packed off to prison forlorn and sad.

Verse III
For weeks and for months there he lay, says the story,
Locked up with the rascally foes of the Crown;
While the true sons of Erin, with honor and glory,
Stood firm on their post till the Croppies lay down.

Then homeward he sneaked, all his perils escaping,
The rope, and the hatchet, and Botany Bay,
And, other old crafty Republicans aping,
Abuses the mercy that let him away

pp. 103 - 104,
The AntiJacobin Review
Volume LII
London: Sherwood, Neely & Jones, 1817

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Subject: Parody: The Monkey
From: keberoxu
Date: 21 Jul 16 - 03:15 PM

Remember the Universal Songster etc etc, from a previous post? It's back.


[words: Beuler. Tune: Dear Creatures, We Can't Do Without Them.]

Oh! nothing in life can sadden us,
While we have plenty of horrors in store;
With these, and a few clever monkeys to gladden us,
Show me the fool who'd wish to see more.

So said each manager, singing in one-key,
I for tragi- or come-dy don't care a 'sous';
For if I had not a prime devil and monkey,
I must, I am certain, soon shut up my house.

Dear creatures! we can't do without one,
They're all that's attractive and pleasing to man; *'man-agers, that is'
Scratching, grinning, and jumping about one,
We'll seek for them, pay for them, all that we can.

Oh! let us drink health to those who divert us,
Here's to von Weber, may he weave us some more
Skeleton chorus' and demon concertos,
Faustus', and Freischütz, and devils galore!

To see all this monkey-tribe grinning so spiteful,
And all without small-clothes keep jumping about,
Scratching themselves with all-fours, it's delightful!
So delicate, too, that the ladies all shout:

And then their intentions are always so ethic,
For others' misfortunes they all seem to feel;
And then, when they die, it is so pathetic,
It's ten times more moving than Siddons or Neil!

We'll marry our monkeys to daughters of tragedy,
Then we'll get full purses, and they'll get 'eclat';
Then let us managers drink to their progeny,
Here's to all monkey-men! huzza! huzza!

p. 98,
The Universal Songster etc etc
London: 1826 (multiple publishers)

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Subject: RE: Dear Creatures, We Can't Do Without 'em
From: keberoxu
Date: 24 Jul 16 - 06:11 PM


[no author cited. Air: "Nothing in Life can sadden us."]
( this is part of a recitation, with sung verses alternating with a long monologue depicting ladies having a gossip; only the song is given here.]

1.   Oh! ladies, these men are enough to madden us;
    They tease and perplex us with vows o'er and o'er;
    And though a true lover's sweet vows may oft gladden us,
    Still, what do we want, pray, with near half a score?

    Come, come, are ye ready, fill out the bohea to us,
    Hand round the toast, and let sorrow ne'er balk
    The pleasure derived from a sweet cup of tea to us,
    Which gives a new zest as we laugh and we talk.

2.   What think you of Edward? Dear me! he's a rover,
    Who swears the same thing to each female he meets!
    And then Captain George is a general lover,
    If a girl is quite sour, why he vows she's all sweets.
    And then there's vain Robert, his nonsense addressing,
    If you smile at his folly, he'll think you're in love;
    While Richard declares that the girls are a blessing;
    And still says in secret -- an evil they prove.

Sing to the gents how we scorn them and flout 'em,
'Twas always the same since poor woman began;
And though, the dear creatures, we can't do without 'em,
We tease and perplex 'em as much as we can.

pp. 74 - 75,
The Universal Songster etc etc,
Vol. III
London, 1826 (multiple publishers)

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