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18 May 21 - 01:25 AM (#4106457) Subject: Origins: Little Golden-Hair From: Joe Offer Monologue John asks what people know about the origin of this recitation. LITTLE GOLDEN-HAIR. Little Golden -hair was watching, in the window broad and high, For the coming of her father, who had gone the foe to fight; He had left her in the morning, and had told her not to cry. But to have a kiss all ready when he came to her at night. She had wondered, all the day. In her simple, childish way, And had asked, as time went on. Where her father could have gone; She had heard the muskets firing, she had counted every one, Till the number grew so many that it was too great a load; Then the evening fell upon her, clear of sound of shout or gun, And she gazed with wistful waiting down the dusty Concord road. Little Golden-hair had listened, not a single week before. While the heavy sand was falling on her mother's coffin-lid: And she loved her father better for the loss that then she bore. And thought of him, and yearned for him, whatever else she did. So she wondered all the day What could make her father stay, And she cried a little, too, As he'd told her not to do; And the sun sunk slowly downward and went grandly out of sight. And she had the kiss all ready on his lips to be bestowed; But the shadows made one shadow, and the twilight grew to night. And she looked, and looked, and listened, down the dasty Concord road. Then the night grew light and lighter, and the moon rose full and round, In the little sad face peering, looking piteously and mild; Still upon the walks of gravel there was heard no welcome sound. And no father came there, eager for the kisses of his child. Long and sadly did she wait, Listening at the cottage-gate; Then she felt a quick alarm. Lest he might have come to harm; With no bonnet but her tresses, no companion but her fears. And no guide except the moonbeams that the pathway dimly showed, With a little sob of sorrow, quick she threw away her tears, And alone she bravely started down the dusty Concord road. And for many a mile she struggled, full of weariness and pain, Calling loudly for her father, that her voice he might not miss; Till at last, among a number of the wounded and the slain, Was the white face of the soldier, waiting for his daughter's kiss. Softly to his lips she crept. Not to wake him as he slept; Then, with her young heart at rest, Laid her head upon his breast; And upon the dead face smiling, with the living one near by, All the night a golden streamlet of the moonbeams gently flowed; One to live, a lonely orphan, one beneath the sod to lie — They found them in the morning on the dusty Concord road. |
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18 May 21 - 01:36 AM (#4106458) Subject: RE: Origins: Little Golden-Hair From: Joe Offer I found the recitation by Googling for "in the window broad and high." Newspapers.com has several examples listed for this recitation:
And many others. |
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18 May 21 - 01:53 AM (#4106461) Subject: ADD:Little Golden-Hair (recitation)(Will Carleton) From: Joe Offer Here's my transcription. LITTLE GOLDEN-HAIR. (Will Carleton) Little Golden-hair was watching, in the window broad and high, For the coming of her father, who had gone the foe to fight; He had left her in the morning, and had told her not to cry. But to have a kiss all ready when he came to her at night.
In her simple, childish way, And had asked, as time went on Where her father could have gone: She had heard the muskets firing, she had counted every one, Till the number grew so many that it was too great a load; Then the evening fell upon her, clear of sound of shout or gun, And she gazed with wistful longing down the dusty Concord road. Little Golden-hair had listened, not a single week before, While the heavy sand was falling on her mother's coffinlid; And she loved her father better for the loss that then she bore. And thought of him and yearned for him, whatever else she did.
What could make her father stay, And she cried a little, too, As he told her not to do; And the sun sunk slowly downward and went grandly out of sight, And she had the kiss all ready on his lips to be bestowed; But the shadows made one shadow, and the twilight grew to night, And she looked, and looked, and listened, down the dusty Concord road. Then the night grew light and lighter, and the moon rose full and round, In the little sad face peering, looking piteously and wild; Still upon the walks of gravel there was heard no welcome sound. And no father came there, eager for the kisses of his child.
Listening at the cottage-gate; Then she felt a quick alarm. Lest he might have come to harm, With no bonnet but her tresses, no companion but her fears, And no guide except the moonbeams that the pathway dimly showed, With a little sob of sorrow, quick she threw away her tears, And alone she bravely started down the dusty Concord road. And for many a mile she struggled, full of weariness and pain, Calling loudly for her father, that her voice he might not miss; Till at last, among a number of the wounded and the slain, Was the white face of the soldier, waiting for his daughter's kiss.
Not to wake him as he slept; Then, with her young heart at rest, Laid her head upon his breast; And upon the dead face smiling, with the living one near by, All the night a golden streamlet of the moonbeams gently flowed; One to live, a lonely orphan, one beneath the sod to lie, — They found them in the morning on the dusty Concord road. Source: The New Century Speaker: Writer and Etiquette, by T. Edward Hollinshed, B.I. American Book and Bible House, Philadelphia, 1901 - page 243 |
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18 May 21 - 09:37 AM (#4106498) Subject: RE: Origins: Little Golden-Hair From: GUEST,# https://books.google.ca/books?id=Mu9DAQAAMAAJ&pg=PA36&lpg=PA36&dq=Little+Golden-hair+was+watching,+in+the+window+broad+and+high, pp. 36-8 |
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18 May 21 - 09:56 AM (#4106502) Subject: RE: Origins: Little Golden-Hair From: cnd Looks like y'all have got this one nailed down -- good searching! |
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18 May 21 - 01:39 PM (#4106534) Subject: RE: Origins: Little Golden-Hair (Will Carleton) From: Joe Offer Turns out that Will Carleton (1845-1912) was a Big Deal in Southern Michigan. In all Will wrote twelve books of poetry, prompting Michigan to confer on him the honorary title of Poet Laureate. Hillsdale Michigan's historical society says he died in 1912 as one of the nation’s most respected and widely read writers and lecturers. My Dad, a proud Michigander, never said anything about Will Carleton, but he made sure to introduce me to Edgar A. Guest, the British-born McGonagall of Michigan. https://www.hillsdalehistoricalsociety.org/will-carleton https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Will_Carleton |
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20 May 21 - 09:28 PM (#4106844) Subject: RE: Origins: Little Golden-Hair (Will Carleton) From: GUEST,# At the following link please see pp. 77-80 for the poem lyrics (posted previously in this thread) and p.119 for Carleton's remark about the poem. https://archive.org/details/youngfolksrhy00carlrich/page/n1/mode/2up |