Memorywork Index

Poetry

“Little Boy Blue”

Little Boy Blue come blow your horn,

the sheep’s in the meadow, 

the cow’s in the corn.

Where is the boy who looks after the sheep,

he’s under the haystack fast asleep.

Will you wake him?

Oh no, not I,

For if I do he is sure to cry. 

 

Hymns

“Mary the Dawn”

1.
Mary the Dawn, Christ the Perfect Day;
Mary the Gate, Christ the Heav’nly Way!

2.
Mary the Root, Christ the Mystic Vine;
Mary the Grape, Christ the Sacred Wine!

3.
Mary the Wheat-Sheaf, Christ the Living Bread;
Mary the Rose-Tree, Christ the Rose blood-red!

4.
Mary the Font, Christ the Cleansing Flood;
Mary the Chalice, Christ the Saving Blood!

5.
Mary the Temple; Christ the Temple’s Lord;
Mary the Shrine, Christ the God adored!

6.
Mary the Beacon, Christ the Haven’s Rest;
Mary the Mirror, Christ the Vision Blest!

7.
Mary the Mother, Christ the Mother’s Son.
Both ever blest while endless ages run. Amen.

“Doxology”

Praise God from Whom all Blessings Flow!

Praise Him all creatures here below!

Praise him above ye heavenly host,

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Folksongs

“Home on the Range”

Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam
And the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day

Home, home on the range
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day

How often at night when the heavens are bright
With the light from the glittering stars
Have I stood there amazed and asked as I gazed
If their glory exceeds that of ours

Home, home on the range
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day

Where the air is so pure, the zephyrs so free
The breezes so balmy and light
That I would not exchange my home on the range
For all of the cities so bright

Home, home on the range
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day

Oh, I love those wild flow’rs in this dear land of ours
The curlew, I love to hear scream
And I love the white rocks and the antelope flocks
That graze on the mountaintops green

Home, home on the range
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day

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