• Welcome to this forum . We are a worldwide group with a common interest in Birmingham and its history. While here, please follow a few simple rules. We ask that you respect other members, thank those who have helped you and please keep your contributions on-topic with the thread.

    We do hope you enjoy your visit. BHF Admin Team

Traditional Songs we sang at school

JohnO said:
''And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green...

...and was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark satanic mills?''
Click to expand...

"bring me my bow of burning gold
bring me my chariots of desire"

...Every day (i seem to remember) at assembly. Enjoyed it then and definitely goose-bumps when I hear it now. Recently watched Chariots of Fire - blubed of course but I seem to blub at most nostalgic films these days....
 
The only one I remember well and still brings tears to my eyes. When I hear it I can see the early morning sunlight streaming though the assembly hall windows, Graham.
  • Refrain:
    All things bright and beautiful,
    All creatures great and small,
    All things wise and wonderful:
    The Lord God made them all.
  1. Each little flow’r that opens,
    Each little bird that sings,
    He made their glowing colors,
    He made their tiny wings.
  2. The purple-headed mountains,
    The river running by,
    The sunset and the morning
    That brightens up the sky.
  3. The cold wind in the winter,
    The pleasant summer sun,
    The ripe fruits in the garden,
    He made them every one.
  4. The tall trees in the greenwood,
    The meadows where we play,
    The rushes by the water,
    To gather every day.
  5. He gave us eyes to see them,
    And lips that we might tell
    How great is God Almighty,
    Who has made all things well.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLeq2vj9kcA&feature=related
 
Last edited:
What wonderful memories you all have. I remember a lot of the songs mentioned. The one that sticks in my mind was Three Little Maids from School from the Mikado. Our music teacher had an operatic voice and expected us to sing as she did............didn't happen! We had many hymns which always seemed boring at the time, but now they are very meaningful. We also had a school song and I only remember the last line "Soho Forever". The school closed down the year I left, 1959.............
 
Early One Morning.


Early one morning,
Just as the sun was rising,
I heard a maid sing,
In the valley below.

CHORUS:
Oh, don't deceive me,
Oh, never leave me,
How could you use
A poor maiden so?

Remember the vows,
That you made to your Mary,
Remember the bow'r,
Where you vowed to be true,

Chorus

Oh Gay is the garland,
And fresh are the roses,
I've culled from the garden,
To place upon thy brow.

Chorus

Thus sang the poor maiden,
Her sorrows bewailing,
Thus sang the poor maid,
In the valley below.

Chorus
 
Silver fox - thanks for that! I still sing this at odd moments; but there seems to a few differing versions amongst the middle verses :

''Remember the vows that you made to me truly,
remember how tenderly you nestled close to me.
Gay is the garland, fresh are the roses
I've culled from the garden, to bind over thee.


Soon you will meet with another pretty maiden,
some pretty maiden, you'll court her awhile.
Thus ever ranging, turning and changing,
Always a seeking a girl who is new.''


All good, sound advice for maidens....I wonder if many took note? These days most songs preach the reverse!
 
Does anyone remember this one - we certainly sung it at Harry Lucas

In Scarlet town where I was born,
There was a fair maid dwellin'
Made every youth cry Well-a-day,
Her name was Barb'ra Allen.

All in the merry month of May,
When green buds they were swellin'
Young Willie Grove on his death-bed lay,
For love of Barb'ra Allen.

He sent his servant to her door
To the town where he was dwellin'
Haste ye come, to my master's call,
If your name be be Barb'ra Allen.

So slowly, slowly got she up,
And slowly she drew nigh him,
And all she said when there she came:
"Young man, I think you're dying!"

He turned his face unto the wall
And death was drawing nigh him.
Good bye, Good bye to dear friends all,
Be kind to Bar'bra Allen

When he was dead and laid in grave,
She heard the death bell knelling.
And every note, did seem to say
Oh, cruel Barb'ra Allen

"Oh mother, mother, make my bed
Make it soft and narrow
Sweet William died, for love of me,
And I shall of sorrow."

They buried her in the old churchyard
Sweet William's grave was neigh hers
And from his grave grew a red, red rose
From hers a cruel briar.

They grew and grew up the old church spire
Until they could grow no higher
And there they twined, in a true love knot,
The red, red rose and the briar.
 
Maggs where does our memory suddenly come from. Do you think the songs of today will be remembered in 40-50 years time?
 
No Carolynn I don't, because these song's we sang when we were children went into our memories so deep didn't they. We used to having singing classes a couple of times a week at our school, and we enjoyed it. This doesn't happen today does it? There hasn't been one song on this thread that I don't remember singing at school. Children today only seem to know pop music which changes weekly, and soon forgotten, nothing traditional there.
 
The only ones that seem ongoing are nursery rhymes. I still can remember advert jingles from when ITV started, but cant remember sometimes where I have put my car keys.
 
Hello everybody,i have always thought it strange how we remember songs and yet possibly wouldn't be able to recite a poem so easily.Even learning a song in a foreign language which we did at school on occasions,and we never forget them,but they don't have singing at school like it used to be
 
Oh yes Liz, I have just thought we sang 'Frere jacques' and Sur le pont Davignon'. I suppose this was because we studied French.

Carolyn you sound just like me, I can alway's remember those Tv jingles too. I was singing one yesterday for 'Norway Sild' It used to go..'You'll be thrilled at Norway Sild. I think they were sardines. I can still sing the 'Mc Dougalls' flour one word for word. Then like you I can't remember where the car key's are. it's nice not to be alone isn't it with these problem's isn't it?
 
I'm the same with these ads from decades ago. They float and it's fun really. I like Harley's Garden Peas if you remember:

Hartley's Garden Peas are we
Into the pot like one, two, three
Hartley's Garden Peas.

A row of dancing peas with animated faces would dance.

Another one is Shippam's Fish Paste. Fish dancing to classical music...Shippams for Tea

Raelbrook Toplin....the shirt you don't iron. One more.....

Renault Dauphine from the late l950's: She gets full marks wherever she parks her Renault Dauphine.

Getting a bit off topic 'cos we didn't have commercial tv when I was at school .
 
So ladies what we should do is when we put our keys down,,or do something we always forget, we should think of a song that would go with it,
 
Ladies/Gents - I am sure we all have been here...









​
Forgetter Be Forgotten?
My forgetter's getting better,
But my rememberer is broke
To you that may seem funny
But, to me, that is no joke​

For when I'm 'here' I'm wondering
If I really should be 'there'
And, when I try to think it through,
I haven't got a prayer!

Oft times I walk into a room,
Say 'what am I here for?'
I wrack my brain, but all in vain!
A zero, is my score.

At times I put something away
Where it is safe, but, Gee!
The person it is safest from
Is, generally, me!

When shopping I may see someone,
Say 'Hi' and have a chat,
Then, when the person walks away
I ask myself, 'who the **** was that?

Yes, my forgetter's getting better
While my rememberer is broke,
And it's driving me plumb crazy
And that isn't any joke.

CAN YOU RELATE???​
Please send this to everyone you know
because

I DON'T REMEMBER
WHO I SENTTHIS TO!​

LIVE, LOVE & LAUGH A LOT
​














 
I know Carolynn its usually true life that's so funny,you couldn't make it up lol
 
Dennis Williams said:
Yes badger lad, I was there with my little recorder from Albert Rd Stechford Primary in 1952! First heard a bloke in a white suit sing 'The Floral Dance', could have been Peter Dawson?. Still brings tears to my eyes when I play it sixty years on...incredible nostalgic hit.

My First school : Lass of Richmond Hill, Barbara Allen, The Ashgrove, Bobby Shafto, The British Grenadiers, Men of Harlech, Nymphs and Shepherds, plus silly dancing music...

Later School Song:

Where the iron heart of England throbs
Beneath her sombre robe.
Stands a school whose sons have made her
Great and famous round the globe;
These have plucked the bays of battle,
Those have won the scholars crown;
Old Edwardians, Young Edwardians
Forward for the School's renown.

Chorus
Forward where the knocks are hardest,
Some to failure, some to fame,
Never mind the cheers or hooting,
Keep your head and play the game.

Here no classic grove secludes us,
Here abides no sheltered calm;
Not the titled, not the stranger,
Wrestles here to gain the palm;
Round our smoke-encrusted precincts
Labour's turbid river runs,
Builders of a burly city
Temper here their strenuous sons.

Here's no place for fop or idler;
They who made our City great
Feared no hardship, shirked no labour,
Smiled at death and conquered fate;
They who gave our school it's laurels
Laid on us a sacred trust;
Forward, therefore, live your hardest,
Die of service, not of rust.

Forward where the scrimmage thickens
Never stop to rub your shin;
Cowards count the kicks and ha'pence,
Only care to save their skin.
Oftentimes defeat is splendid,
Victory may still be shame,
Luck is good, the prize is pleasant,
But the glory's in the game.

Always sung at beginning and end of a Term, and always followed by the prefects leaping on to the stage with rolled up school cap exhorting “School, three cheers for the Masters” Hip Rah, Hip, Rah, Hip Rah. “School, three cheers for the Headmaster” Hip Rah, Hip Rah, Hip, Rah, and finally the Head Boy with “SCHOOL, THREE CHEERS FOR THE SCHOOL!” The last one obviously getting the loudest cheers. Except the occasion when some besotted fool got carried away and called for “SCHOOL, THREE CHEERS FOR THE GIRLS SCHOOL” last up. Got the best result ever…but was never seen again.
Click to expand...

Hey Dennis, you must be an Old Edwardian like me!!

We girls sang the same school song
We also had an alternative version which included the line 'Never mind the Sunday papers' - wish I could remember it, it was hilarious.

At the end of each school year we also sang:

'Forty years on when afar and asunder
parted are those who are singing today.
When we look back and regretfully wonder
what we were like in our work and our play.'...........wish I could remember the rest

Happy days (although I probably didn't think so at the time).
 
Too true Seabird. Too true girl. The sentiments and words relate to the old Stratford Road Camp Hill sites of course, where I spent the first three years of incarceration. I hated the Kings Heath move with a vengeance. Your alternative version sounds like it should get an airing here. Know any old pals that might have committed them to paper or memory?
 
I'm meeting one old pal on Sunday at Powys Castle - I wonder if she remembers any more lines. I know it started:

'Where the iron heart of England rusts beneath its mouldering robe...'

I started the year after the move to Kings Heath, so never saw the Stratford Road school. I wonder if they still have to change into indoor shoes to preserve the highly polished floor at Vicarage Road.
 
Ray Barrett said:
My dad can still receite a monologue he was taught at school 90 years ago...
The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God...by J.Milton Hayes....
It begins...
There's a one eyed yellow idol to the north of Kathmandu.
There's a little marble cross below the town.
Where a broken hearted woman tends the grave of mad Carew.
And the yellow god, forever, gazes down....


Click to expand...

Thanks Ray,

It's taken me back to when my grandad used to recite this, trouble was, one Christmas, he decided it would be a great idea to have me sit on his lap and do the hand guestures in front of me, while he recited it. I was 16 at the time and had a sore eye for ages. Happy memories
 
What is it with grandads of that Great War era? Mine also scared and fascinated us with equal measure by reciting this gem. Basically for this love of the Colonel's daughter Mad Carew nicks the jewell of the yellow idol's eye, and the final verse I will always remember charts his chilling comeuppance ...

His door was open wide, with silver moonlight shining through;
The place was wet and slipp'ry where she trod;
An ugly knife lay buried in the heart of Mad Carew,
'Twas the "Vengeance of the Little Yellow God."

Brilliant stuff, right up there with Albert And The Lion for blood and gore.

Nothing anywhere illustrates the changes in our social systems better than his brilliant thread. How sad that almost all of these wonderful songs and poems repealed here would most likely now draw a prison sentence if repeated in public. What a fearful shame. As my final two fingers to the Social Reformers and Gob s***es that abandoned and rewrote our glorious history so callously, I give you the following

The British Grenadiers

Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules;
Of Hector and Lysander, and such great names as these;
But of all the world's braves heroes, there's none that can compare
With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, row, for the British Grenadiers.
Those heroes of antiquity ne'er saw a cannon ball,
Or knew the force of powder to slay their foes withal;
But our brave boys do know it, and banish all their fears,
Sing tow, row, row, row, row, row, row, for the British Grenadiers.
Whene'er we are commanded to storm the palisades,
Our leaders march with fusees, and we with hand grenades;
We throw them from the glacis about the enemies' ears,
Sing tow, row, row, row, row, row, row, for the British Grenadiers.
And when the siege is over, we to the town repair,
The townsmen cry, Hurrah, boys, here comes a Grenadier.
Here come the Grenadiers, my boys, who know no doubts or fears,
Sing tow, row, row, row, row, row, row, for the British Grenadiers,

Then let us fill a bumper, and drink a health to those
Who carry caps and pouches, and wear the loupèd clothes;
May they and their commanders live happy all their years,
With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, row, for the British Grenadiers.

I hope the handcuffs don't chafe too much...

DW
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top