Hard Times
SAB and Piano
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Let us pause in life’s pleasures and count its many tears
While we all sup sorrow with the poor:
There’s a song that will linger forever in our ears;
Oh! Hard times, come again no more.
‘Tis the song, the sigh of the wary,
Hard times, Hard Times, come again no more,
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door;
Oh! Hard times, come again no more.
There’s a pale drooping maiden who toils her life away,
With a worn heart who’s better days are o’er,
Though her voice would be merry, ’tis sighing all the day,
Oh! Hard times, come again no more.
Hard times, ‘Tis the song, the sigh of the weary,
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
‘Tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave,
‘Tis a wail that is heard upon the shore,
‘Tis a dirge that is murmered around the lowly grave,
Oh! Hard times, come again no more.
‘Tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave,
‘Tis a wail that is heard upon the shore,
‘Tis a dirge that is murmered around the lowly grave,
Oh! Hard times, come again no more.
‘Tis the song, the sigh of the wary,
Hard times, hard times, come again no more,
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door;
Oh! Hard times, come again no more.
Oh! Hard times, come again no more.
All Through the Night
SAB and Wind Quintet (or piano)
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Wind Quintet
While the stars are shining brightly
All thro’ the night,
Earth is sleeping soft and lightly
All thro’ the night.
Rest until the day is dawning,
And the sun all things adorning,
Calls the earth to great the morning
All thro’ the night.
Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee,
All thro’ the night.
Guardian angels God will send thee,
All thro’ the night.
Soft the drowsey hours are creeping,
Hill and vale in slumber steeping,
I my loving watch am keeping,
All thro’ the night.
Mother dear is close beside thee,
All thro’ the night,
Watching that no harm betide thee,
All thro’ the night,
Thro’ the open window streaming,
Moonlight on the floor is gleaming,
While my baby lies a-dreaming,
All thro’ the night.
(first verse and refrain)
Loch Lomond
for SAB and piano
Source: Scottish Traditional
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By yon Bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond,
Where me and my true love were ever won’t to gae,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.
‘Twas there that we parted in yon shady glen,
On the steep, steep side o’ ben Lomond,
Where in deep purple hue, the highland hills we view,
And the moon coming oot in the Gloaming.
O’ ye’ll tak the high road, and I’ll tak the low road,
And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye;
But me and my true love will never meet again
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.
The bonnie banks, the bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.
Where in deep purple hue, the highland hills we view,
And the moon coming oot in the Gloaming.
And the moon coming oot in the Gloaming.
The wee birdies sing, and the wild flowers spring,
And in sunshine the waters are sleeping,
But the broken heart will ken nae second Spring again,
‘Though the waeful’ may cease fae their greeting.
O’ ye’ll tak the high road, and I’ll tak the low road,
And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye;
But me and my true love will never meet again
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.
Dark, Cold, Windy Night
for SAB and piano
(A Christmas Story)
Text by John Floyd Campbell
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Long ago on a dark, cold, windy night,
All was not calm and all was not bright,
Three wise men had followed a lone mysterious light,
It was a dark, cold, windy night.
Lonely night; dark, cold, lonely night,
Mother was crying as she held her baby tight,
Baby was cold and hungry at this squalid sight,
It was a dark, cold, windy night.
Mother she cried as she held him tight,
This baby she loved was bathed in starry light,
She held him tight at this holy site,
It was a dark, cold, lonely night.
Baby cried, little child it cried,
Could it be that baby cried all night long?
Was it the wind that they heard all that night,
Or was it the angels in song?
Long ago on a dark, cold, windy night,
All was not calm and all was not bright,
Three wise men had followed a lone mysterious light,
It was a dark, cold, windy night.
It was a dark, cold, holy night.
Boot, Saddle, to Horse and Away!
SAB, piano, and percussion
Poem by Robert Browning (1812-1889)
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Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day,
Brightens to blue from its silvery grey,
Boot, saddle, to horse and away!
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you’d say;
Many’s the friend there, will listen and pray.
‘God’s luck to gallants that strike up the lay.
Boot, saddle, to horse and away!’
Forty miles off, like a roebuck,
forty miles off, forty miles off.
Forty miles off, like a roebuck,
Flouts the castle the Roundheads’ array;
Who laughs, ‘good fellows, Who laughs, ‘good fellows,
Who laughs, ‘good fellows ere this, by my fay,
Boot, saddle, to horse and away!’
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering ‘Nay!’
I’ve better counsellors; what counsel they?
Boot, saddle, to horse and away!’
Who laughs, ‘good fellows, Who laughs, ‘good fellows,
Who laughs, ‘good fellows ere this, by my fay, away!
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day,
Brightens to blue from its silvery grey,
Boot, saddle, to horse and away!
Choral Etude #1
SAB a cappella
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We’re On the Move
for SAB, piano, and claves
Text by John Floyd Campbell
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We’re on the move, this generation,
Clear the tracks, we’ll soon be on our way.
We were the first ones in the station,
Our bags are packed, our one-way tickets pa
You have always stood by us in good times and the bad,
But now we’re feelin’ like a rocket on a launching pad,
Ready to blastoff in a firery swirl,
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three,
To a brand new world, a new world.
Don’t give up on our generation,
We wish to be the spark for something new.
Pray for us that we’ll be a sensation,
Change the world, that’s what we hope to do.
We are like those racing drivers itching at the wheel,
Revvin’ up their engines, we know just how they must feel.
So give us the green flag, we’re set to hit the road,
Listen to those pistons, they are ready to explode,
Here we go. Here we go!
We may be a little bit too hopeful,
At least that’s what we’ve heard some people say,
For what we’ve been given we are thankful,
But we see this ol’ world a diff’rent way from you.
You have always told us to hold on to our dreams,
So that’s just what we’re planning to do!
We’re on the move, this generation,
and we can make this world a better place,
And I don’t think you need an explanation,
We’re ready to start, there is no time to waste.
We are the future, We are the future,
We are the future of the world.
Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho
for SAB a cappella
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Is This the Day?
SAB and piano
Text by John Floyd Campbell
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Is this the day we learn to sing?
Is this the day we learn to give?
Is this the day we learn to dream?
Is this the day we learn to live?
Is this the day we learn to laugh?
Is this the day we learn to cry?
Is this the day we learn to love?
Is this the day we learn to die?
Some days we wish that we could fly away,
Fly far away to a distant world,
Now is the time that we know we should dream
of a world that we hope will soon be,
Don’t fly away, don’t fly away, don’t fly away this day, ’cause
This may be the day we learn to pray,
This may be the day we learn to give,
This may be the day when we will say:
“This is the day, this is the day,
This is the day we learned to live.”
Rise Up You Sleepers
SAB and piano
Text by John Floyd Campbell
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Did not the sun rise on this new day?
Rise up you sleepers and don’t be afraid.
Did not the stars make their journey last night?
Open your windows and bathe in the light.
Did not the birds sing a brand new song?
Did not the gentle wind blow all night long?
Soothing and healing your wounds and your stings,
Rise up you sleepers, hope is what this day will bring!
But will we live with wisdom?
Will we live with compassion?
Will we live for the good of all mankind?
For the good of all mankind?
Did not the church bells awake to ring?
Up from your slumbers, escape from your dreams.
It’s time for breathing freshly scented air,
It’s time for living, throw away your cares.
Throw away your cares.
Did not the sun rise on this new day?
Rise up you sleepers and don’t be afraid.
Did not the stars make their journey last night?
We’ve been blinded by our fears,
But now we have new sight,
A new day.
Rise up you sleepers!
Apple Tree Wassail
for SAB and piano
Source: Traditional English
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Old apple tree we’ll wassail thee and hoping thou wilt bear.
The Lord does know where we shall be to be merry another year.
To be well and to bear well and so merry let us be.
Let ev’ry man drink up his cup here’s health to the old apple tree.
To be well and to bear well and so merry let us be.
Let ev’ry man drink up his cup here’s health to the old apple tree.
Hatfuls, capfuls, three bushel bagfuls, Hip, hip, hip, hoo-roo!
Tallets all full, barn floors full, a little heap under the stairs.
A little heap under the stairs.
Old apple tree we’ll wassail thee and hoping thou wilt bear.
Let ev’ry man drink up his cup here’s health to the old apple tree.
Hatfuls, capfuls, three bushel bagfuls, Hip, hip, hip, hoo-roo!
Let ev’ry man drink up his cup here’s health to the old apple tree.
Gloucestershire Wassail
SAB and Piano
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Wassail, wassail all over the town!
Our toast it is white and our drink it is brown,
Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree;
With the wassailing bowl we’ll drink to thee.
So here is to Dobbin and to his right eye,
Pray God send our master a good Christmas pie,
And a good Christmas pie that may we all see;
With the wassailing bowl we’ll drink to thee.
So here is to Broad May and to her broad horn,
May god send our master a good crop of corn,
And a good crop of corn that may we all see,
With the wassailing bowl we’ll drink to thee.
So here is to Fillpail and to her left ear,
Pray God send our master a happy New Year,
And a happy New Year as e’er he did see;
With the wassailing bowl we’ll drink to thee.
Wassail, Wassail, Wassail, Wassail.
With the wassailing bowl we’ll drink to thee.
Wassail, wassail all over the town!
Our toast it is white and our drink it is brown,
Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree;
With the wassailing bowl, wassailing bowl,
With the wassailing bowl we’ll drink to thee.
With the wassailing bowl we’ll drink to thee.
Little Town of Bethlehem
SAB and Piano
Music by Lewis Redner (1831-1908)
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O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie;
Above they deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by.
Yet in they dark streets shineth the everlasting light,
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.
O morning stars, together proclaim the holy birth,
And praises sign to God he king, and peace to men on earth.
For christ is born of Mary, and gathered all above,
While mortals sleep the Angels keep their watch of wondering love.
How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is giv’n;
So god imparts to human hearts the blessings of his heav’n.
No ear may hear his coming, but in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him, still the ear christ enters in.
Where children pure and happy pray to the blessed Child,
Where misery cries out to thee, son of the mother mild;
Where charity stands watching, and faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks, and Christmas comes once more,
O holy child of Bethlehem descend to us we pray,
Cast out our sin and enter in, Be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels, the great glad tidings tell:
O come to us, abide with us, Our Lord Emmanuel.
O come to us, abide with us, Our Lord Emmanuel.
We Are Here to Sing For You
for SAB and piano
Text by John Floyd Campbell
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We are hear to sing for you,
We are here to sing, to sing for you.
When you’re in the valley where the shadows dwell,
And when you say your life is like a living Hell,
We will sing for you, we will sing for you!
We are here to sing for you,
When you’re feelin’ down a song is good for you,
If the tears are fallin’ like Niagra Falls,
And if it seems forever that a friend has called,
We will sing for you, we will sing for you.
There is not a day goes by when a song can’t lift our hearts,
It’s not hard to recognize what music means to you and me,
And all the world.
We are here to sing for you,
We are here to sing, that’s what we like to do,
So if you toss and turn when others go to sleep,
And if gettin’ you to laugh is just like pullin’ teeth,
We will sing for you, we will sing for you.
We are hear to sing for you,
We are hear to sing for, to sing for you.
Choral Etude #3
for SAB
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Hold On
SSAB and piano
Source: American spiritual
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One of these days about four o’clock,
This old world’s gonna reel and rock,
Keep your hand, keep your hand to the plow. Hold on.
Hold on. Hold on.
Keep your hand, keep your hand to the plow, hold on.
One of these days, but I don’t know when,
This old world is gonna come to an end.
Keep your hand, keep your hand to the plow. Hold on.
Hold on. Hold on.
Keep your hand, keep your hand to the plow, hold on.
One of these mornings at the rising sun,
God’s gonna stop your lying tongue.
Keep your hand, keep your hand to the plow. Hold on.
Hold on. Hold on.
Keep your hand, keep your hand to the plow, hold on.
Ain’t been to Heaven but I’ve been told,
Streets are pearl and the gates are gold.
And when I get to Heaven, I’m gonna sit down,
Wear a white robe and a starry crown.
Keep your hand, keep your hand to the plow. Hold on.
Hold on. Hold on.
Keep your hand, keep your hand to the plow, hold on.
I’m going to Heaven and I ain’t gonna stop,
Ain’t gonna be no stumbling block.
Keep your hand, keep your hand to the plow. Hold on.
Hold on. Hold on.
Keep your hand, keep your hand to the plow, hold on.
I’m going to Heaven and I ain’t gonna stop,
Ain’t gonna be no stumbling block.
Keep your hand, keep your hand to the plow. Hold on.
Hold on. Hold on.
Keep your hand, keep your hand to the plow, hold on.
Keep your hand to the plow. Hold on.
Three Kings
for SAB, piano, and timpani
Source: John Henry Hopkins, Jr. (1820-91)
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We three kings of Orient are, Bearing gifts we traverse afar.
Field and fountain, moor and mountain, Following yonder star.
Born a king on Bethlehem plain, Gold I bring to crown him again,
King forever, ceasing never, over us all to reign.
Star of wonder star of night, Star with royal beauty bright,
Westward leading still proceeding, Guide us to thy perfect light.
Frankincense to offer have I; Incense owns a deity night:
Prayer and praising, all men raising, follow the stars on high;
Myrrh is mine; its bitter perfume, Breathes a life of gathering gloom;
Prayer and praising, all men raising, Follow the stars on high;
Star of wonder star of night, Star with royal beauty bright,
Westward leading still proceeding, Guide us to thy perfect light.
We three kings of Orient are, Bearing gifts we traverse afar.
Field and fountain, moor and mountain, Following yonder star.
Following yonder star, Star of Wonder, star of light.
Auld Lang Syne
for SAB and piano
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Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, For auld lang syne!
For auld lang syne, my dear, For aul lang syne.
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.
And surely ye’ll be your pint stowp! And surely I’ll be mine!
And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear, For aul lang syne.
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.
We twa hae paidl’d in the burn, Frae morning sun till dine;
But the seas between us braid hae roar’d sin’ auld lang syne.
And here’s a hand, my trusty fere! And gie’s a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll tak a right gude willie waught, For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne.
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne.