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Edgar Guest - The Choir At PixleyEdgar Guest - The Choir At Pixley
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The choir we had in Pixley wasn`t much for looks an` styles, But today if I could hear it I would walk a hundred miles; There warn`t a singer in it that could boast she `d crossed the seas To study with the masters and to learn to make high C`s; There warn`t no variations, warn`t no frills that folks think grand; Warn`t no singin` operatic that no one can understand; But jus` plain gospel singin` like the music of the birds, An` the congregation didn`t have to strain to catch the words. There were jus` four people in it Mrs. Tompkins, Mrs. Botts, Arthur Tweedle was the tenor, an` the basso Jeptha Watts. Oh, `t would do you good to hear `em singin` low "Abide With Me," An` "Jerusalem the Golden" an` "The City by the Sea. "There was nothin` high-falutin` `bout the songs they used t` sing, Jus` sweet, humble hymns of praises to the Master an` the King; Jus` sweet, simple strains of music, but my soul they always stirred, An` I liked it better, mebbe, coz I understood each word. An` I mind the day in Pixley when a city woman came To our little church to visit, an` I mind her burnin` shame, When she sneered about the singin` an` she scoffed about the choir, An` I mind the way she snickered an` the way she roused my ire, An` how I up and told her that the music she thought grand Was the music that she paid for an` she couldn`t understand ; An` I said the choir ain`t singin` now for you, an` never would, But it`s singin` for the Master an` I guess He `d call it good. The little church in Pixley ain`t a little church no more, It`s took in wealthy people an` its steeples skyward soar; It`s got a marble altar an` it`s got a tony choir Of singers trained in Europe an` a-singin` now for hire. They `re runnin` now to solos an` they advertise the fact That So and So is goin` t` sing, a large crowd to attract; But I can`t say I like it, why it isn`t half so good As the little choir that used t` sing the songs we understood.
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