1 How Can I Keep From Singing?
Traditional
2 The Devil and the Farmer's Wife
Traditional | 
| 10 Down Came An Angel
Traditional 11 Fiddle Medley: Bonaparte Crossing the Rhine, Whiskey Before Breakfast, Jude's Last Time
Traditional |
3 Bluebird Song
J. Ritchie 4 Hammer Dulcimer Medley: Laird O' Drum Blair, Cincinnati Hornpipe, Petronella, Chorus Jig
Traditional | 6 The Blind Fiddler
Traditional 7 Froggie Went A' Courtin'
Traditional | 12 Blue Ridge Mountain Refugees
Si Kahn 13 Steals of the White Man
Traditional |
5 Omie Wise
Traditional | 8 Mole In The Ground
Traditional 9 Elvaton
Traditional | 14 Christ Child Lullaby
Traditional |
Personnel
John McCutcheon, vocals, hammer dulcimer, fiddle, banjo, guitar, autoharp, jaw harp, spoons, with Tom Bledsoe, Rich Kirby, Gary Slemp, Allison Slemp, Jack Wright and Jean McCutcheon
Formats
Cassette: June Appal Recordings JA003
LP: June Appal Recordings
Lyrics
How Can I Keep From Singing?
Traditional
My life flows on in endless song
Above earth's lamentation.
I hear the real, thought far off hymn
That hails the new creation
Above the tumult and the strife,
I hear the music ringing;
It sounds an echo in my soul
How can I keep from singing?
What through the tempest loudly roars,
I hear the truth, it liveth.
What through the darkness round me close,
Songs in the night it giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I'm clinging.
Since love is lord of Heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing?
When tyrants tremble, sick with fear,
And hear their death-knell ringing,
When friends rejoice both far and near,
How can I keep from singing?
In prison cell and dungeon vile
Our thoughts to them are winging.
When friends by shame are undefiled,
How can I keep from singing?
Steals Of The White Man
Traditional
Alas, said an Indian,
I once had a home,
In a fair forest glade,
Where the wild deer did roam,
Where the sacalait feast,
On a festival day,
But the steals of a White Man,
Have took them away.
I once had a mother,
The pride of my youth,
And a father who taught me,
The practice of truth.
Now their spirits have left them,
So cold as the clay,
And the steals of the White Man,
Have took them away.
I once had a brother,
The pride of the vale,
And a sister whose cheeks,
They were ruddy and pale,
And I'd often join them,
In innocent play,
But the steals of a White Man,
Have took them away.
And now I'm alone,
The last of my race,
And I know in this world,
That I have no place,
My friends and relation,
Have all passed away,
For the steals of a White Man,
Have took them away.
And now I must follow,
The Great Spirit calls,
To the land of the Blessed,
Where the brave never falls,
To that blissful green shore,
And the cool forest glade,
Where the steals of a White Man,
Shall never invade.