Old oak tree

              Sung by Mrs. Maxine Hite Prairie Grove, Arkansas April 17, 1959
Reel 317, Item 2
The Old Oak Tree
"It was a song sung by my mother as a girl, and she recently
sang it and my sister typed it for me so I'd have a record of it."
Dark was the night, cold blew the wind,
And heavy fell the rain,
When Bessie left her own dear home To never return again.
She left from by her mother's side,
Fearing not the wind nor cold,
For she was young and fair to view
And love had made her bold.
So fearing not the wind nor rain,
Nor loud the tempest's roar,
She threw her cloak about her waist And quickly from the door.
Night rolled around and morning came,
And Bessie returned not home,
Which caused her mother for to weep And wonder where she'd gone.
Three dreary weeks had now passed by,
And Bessie returned not home,
When James McFall rode out to hunt With all his dogs and hounds.
He rode up hill, he rode down dale,
In gallant company,
Whenas by chance the fox was missed Down by the old oak tree,
The dogs began to run about And for to sniff the clay,
'Twas all that . with whips could do,
To drive those dogs away.
Collected by
Mary Celestia Parler
(Cont'd)
The Old Oak Tree Reel 317, Item 2 Continued
The gentlemen they gathered round And called for pick and spade,
And in the ground they dug and found The missing murdered maid.
And through her eyes . .
That was so blue and bright,
Her cheeks were black and bruised too That were once so red and sweet.
And in her breast a knife was found,
That's all I need to name,
For all that were present would plainly read Was James McDonald's name.
McDonald fell upon this deed,
My soul is sued for hell,
Go take the cold corpse from my sight;
And the story I will tell.
I was the best friend ere at least Or so it seemed to me,
I gained her as my victory,
And trampled o'er her heart.
And every time that we would meet,
She'd cry, Make me your bride.
She teased and teased, till I grew tired,
Or as it seemed to me,
The devil whispered, Take her life And then you shall be free.
So with my knife in my right hand,
I plunged it in her breast,
The other half I knocked her down,
I need not tell the rest.
McDonald then fell to his knees,
And gave a look of shame,
He drew a pistol from his belt And fired it through his brain.
(Cont'd)
The Old Oak Tree Reel 317, Item 2 Continued
McDonald was buried where he did fall,
No Christian grave got he;
And no one kneels to bless the ground Beneath the old oak tree.