I finally returned to shape-note singing last night. I was very rusty at first but by the end of the night I was back into the swing. I'm still not confident at singing loudly unless there's a loud singer next to me that I can use as a guide.

Members of the group choose the songs, and somehow we got into a run of songs about looking forward to finally dying. Most of these songs were written in the 18th and 19th centuries when life was a lot fuckin' harder than it is now. What's awesome is that for the most part the melodies are very upbeat and happy in these songs. Here are some lyrics.

pg 61 - Sweet Rivers (lyrics written in 1803)

Sweet rivers of redeeming love
Lie just before mine eye,
Had I the pinions of a dove
I'd to those rivers fly;
I'd rise superior to my pain,
With joy outstrip the wind,
I'd cross o'er Jordan's stormy waves,
And leave the world behind.

A few more days, or years at most,
My troubles will be o'er;
I hope to join the heav'nly host
On Canaan's happy shore.
My raptured soul shall drink and feast
In love's unbounded sea:
The glorious hope of endless rest
Is ravishing for me.


pg. 245 Claremont 2 (lyrics written in 1712)

Vital spark of heav'nly flame
Quit, oh, quit this mortal frame;
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying.
Oh, the pain, the bliss of dying?

Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life.
Hark! they whisper; angels say,
"Sister spirit, come away."

What is this absorbs me quite --
Steals my senses, shuts my sight?
Drowns my spirit, draws my breath?
Tell me soul, can this be death?

The world recedes, it disappears,
Heav'n opens on my eyes, my ears
With sounds seraphic ring,
Lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
Oh grave! where is thy victory?
Oh death! where is thy sting?


If my mother saw this blog she'd call me and try to discern if I was suicidal (she will never live down the time she did just that, after getting a mixed tape from me - a gift! - that had some Elliott Smith songs on it. she thought that because I liked the songs, I must agree with the sentiment of the singer, or that giving them to her was a cry for help, or something. Oy, that was an unpleasant conversation...).