Soldier's Life- Barry Satterfield (AR) 1955 Parler A
[From Ozark Folk Song Collection; Reel 225, Item 2. Collected by Mary Celestia Parler; Transcribed by Neil Byer.
Listen: http://digitalcollections.uark.edu/cdm/singleitem/collection/OzarkFolkSong/id/3181/rec/11
R. Matteson 2017]
A Soldier's Life- sung by Barry Satterfield of Bluff Springs, Ark. on April 14, 1955
Soldier's life is a very hard life,
Causes many a one to lose their life,
Causes many a one to weep and to mourn
The loss of a true love never to return.
Dark is the color of my true love's hair,
His cheeks are as a lily's fair.
[Come home now and give me joy[1],
For none can I love but my sweet soldier boy.]
"Captain, captain, tell me true,
My soldier boy has sailed with you?"
"Oh, kind miss, he is not here,
Has been dead about five year."
She run her boat upon a rock,
She acts like a lady that her heart was broke,
She wrung her hand, she tore her hair,
She acts like a lady in deep despair.
Set me a chair to set upon,
A pen and ink to write it down,
At the end of every line she dropped a tear,
At the end of every verse she cries, "Oh, my dear."
Oh, dig my grave both wide and deep,
Put a marble stone at my head and feet,
And on my breast a snow-white dove,
To show this world that I died for love.
1. missing lines supplied from a Wolf Collection recording (see below).
________________________
[From: The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection]
A SOLDIER'S LIFE IS A VERY HARD LIFE
Sung by: Berry Sutterfield
Recorded in Big Flat, AR 8/20/59
Soldier's life is a very hard life,
Causes a many a one to lose their life.
Causes a many a one to weep and to mourn
The loss of a true love, never to return.
Dark is the color of my true love's hair,
His cheeks are as the lilies fair,
Come home now and give me joy,
For none can I love but my sweet soldier boy.
"Captain, Captain, tell me true,
My sweet soldier boy has sailed with you."
"Oh, kind miss, he is not here--
He has been dead about some five years."
She run her boat up on a rock.
She act like a lady that her heart was broke.
She wrung her hands, she tore her hair,
She act like a lady in deep despair.
"Set me a chair to set upon,
A pen and ink to write it down."
At the end of every line she drops a tear;
At the end of every verse she cries, "Oh, my dear!
"Go dig my grave both wide and deep,
And put a marble stone at my head and my feet,
And on my breast a snow-white dove,
To show to this world that I died for love."