Digital Tradition Mirror

Gambling on the Sabbath Day

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Gambling on the Sabbath Day

A poor unworthy boy who dares
To disregard a father's cares,
Who smiles to see a sister's tears
An' scorns to hear a mother's prayers.

From their advice he turned away,
At dice an' cards he learnt to play,
An' then a comrade he did slay
While gamhlin'on the Sabbath day.

His father, sixty years in age,
The best ol counsel did engage,
To see if something could be done
To save his disobedient son.

But nothin' could the coursel do,
The testimony was too true,
'Twas he the bloody weapon drew
An' pierced his comrade's body through.

His weepin' mother standin' by,
To hear them tell the reason rvhy,
Her son in prison had to lie
Till on the scaffold he must die.

Don't weep for me, my mother dear,
When I am safely laid away,
For on the scaffold I must pay
For gamblin' on the Sabbath day.

The sheriff cut the slender cord,
His soul has went to meet his Lord,
The doctor cried the wretch is dead.
The soul has from the body fled.

His weepin' mother cried aloud,
God save and pity this gazin' crowd,
That they may all be turned away
From gamblin' on the Sabbath day.

From Ozark Folksongs, Randolph
Collected from Mrs. Martha Duckworth, MO 1933
DT #624
Laws E14

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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