Get all 4 Barbara Hume releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Duets, A Concert of Prayers, Island in the Sound, and I Hear America Singing, Highlights from Volumes 1 - 5.
1. |
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Women sit or move to and fro
Some old, some young
The young are beautiful
But the old are more beautiful
Than the young.
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2. |
Mother To Son, Volume 5
02:31
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Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor-
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now-
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
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3. |
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mr youse needn't be so spry
concernin questions arty
each has his tastes but as for i
i likes a certain party
gimme the he-man's solid bliss
for youse ideas i'll match youse
a pretty girl who naked is
is worth a million statues
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4. |
Wild Nights, Volume 2
02:48
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Wild nights - Wild nights!
Were I with thee
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile - the winds -
To a Heart in port -
Done with the Compass -
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden -
Ah - the Sea!
Might I but moor - tonight -
In thee!
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5. |
Bereft, Volume 4
02:53
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Where had I heard this wind before
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
Holding open a restive door,
Looking down hill to a frothy shore?
Summer was past and day was past.
Somber clouds in the west were massed.
Out on the porch's sagging floor,
leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
Blindly struck at my knee and missed.
Something sinister in the tone
Told me my secret must be known:
Word I was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word I was in my life alone,
Word I had no one left but God.
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6. |
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Going to Him! Happy letter!
Tell Him
Tell Him the page I didn't write
Tell Him - I only said the syntax
And left the verb and the pronoun out
Tell Him just how the fingers hurried
Then - how they waded - slow - slow
And then you wished you had eyes in your pages
So you could see what moved them so.
Tell Him - it wasn't a practised writer
You guessed from the way the sentence toiled
You could hear the bodice tug, behind you
As if it held but the might of a child.
You almost pitied it - you - it worked so
Tell Him - no - you may quibble there
For it would split his heart to know it
And then you and I, were silenter.
Tell Him night finished before we finished
And the old clock kept neighing "Day"!
And you got sleepy and begged to be ended
What could it hinder so - to say?
Tell Him just how she sealed you - cautious!
But if he ask where you are hid
Until tomorrow - Happy letter!
Gesture Coquette - and shake your head!
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7. |
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I cannot live with you
It would be life
And life is over there
Behind the shelf
The Sexton keeps the key to
Putting up
Our Life - his porcelain
Like a cup
Discarded of the Housewife
Quaint - or broke
A newer sevres pleases
Old ones crack
I could not die with you
For one must wait
To shut the other's gaze down
You could not
And I - could I stand by
And see you freeze
Without my right of frost
Death's privilege?
Nor could I rise with you
Because your face
Would put out Jesus'
That new grace
Glow plain and foreign
On my homesick eye
Except that you than He
Shone closer by
They'd judge us - how -
For you served heaven
You know, or sought to
I could not
Because you saturated sight
And I had no more eyes
For sordid excellence
As paradise
And were you lost, I would be
Though my name
Rang loudest
On the heavenly fame
And were you saved
And I condemned to be
Where you were not
That self were hell to me
So we must meet apart
You there - I here
With just the door ajar
That oceans are and prayer
And that pale sustenance
Despair
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8. |
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I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it
should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plan or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work,
or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat,
the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench,
the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter's song, the ploughboy's on his
way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work,
or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day--at night the party of
young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.
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9. |
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Time will say nothing, but I told you so.
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you - I would let you know.
If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play.
Time will say nothing but I told you so.
There are no fortunes to be told, although,
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you, I would let you know.
The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reasons why the leaves decay;
Time will say nothing, but I told you so.
Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you, I would let you know.
Suppose the lions all get up and go,
And all the brooks and soldiers run away;
Will time say nothing, but I told you so?
If I could tell you - I would let you know.
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10. |
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If you were coming in the fall,
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile, and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.
If only centuries delayed,
I'd count them on my hand,
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Dieman's land
If certain, when this life was out-
That yours and mine should be
I'd toss it yonder, like a rind,
And taste Eternity
But, now uncertain of the length
Of this, that is between,
It goads me, like a goblin bee--
That will not state its sting.
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11. |
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Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees in heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfill.
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12. |
Good Hours, Volume 1
01:52
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I had for my winter evening walk
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.
And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.
I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.
Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o'clock of a winter eve.
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13. |
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I dream a world where man
No other man will scorn,
Where love will bless the earth
And peace its paths adorn
I dream a world where all
Will know sweet freedom's way,
Where greed no longer saps the soul
Nor avarice blights our day.
A world I dream where black or white,
Whatever race you be,
Will share the bounties of the earth
And every man is free,
Where wretchedness will hang its head
And joy, like a pearl,
Attends the needs of all mankind -
Of such I dream, my world!
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Barbara Hume Seattle, Washington
Barbara Hume lives in the Seattle area where she has collaborated with composers for the past 20 years including David Paul Mesler, Bonnie Murphy, Paul Lewis and other northwest artists producing original music, set to a rich and varied canon of poetry. In these albums, the weaving of melody and imagery produce songs that unearth the raw senses that nurture the soul. ... more
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