Thursday, August 31, 2017

Home on the range, he that is down need fear no fall

Sitting here today working on a fun creative activity, I heard my friend humming a tune.  I thought it sounded something like:

Oh give me a home where the buffalo roam,
Where the deer and the antelope play,

It was surprising and probably just sounded like it! I was asking her, why are you humming that!  We could not think of what it was and she thought she may have been humming "God Bless America."  So, I looked up the words and refreshed my memory of the name, "Home on  the Range," and played it for her.  I got this version by searching only for the words Buffalo Roams!






Bunyan's effigy on his grave in Bunhill Fields
After, listening to the song and liking it, a new tune entered her mind  out of nowhere.  She asked me to find and play the song "He that is down need fear no fall" by John, she couldn't think of the last name.  After playing some organ and choir versions, her humming the poem was probably the best version.  After reading the poem and watching an English lesson on the structure, I looked up the author.  Discovered, to my surprise, the author, John Bunyan, had died 329 years ago this day 8/31/2017.

This is a great sign!  I believe this to be a wonderful  message and a blessing from God!  You can read about his life here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Bunyan.


The statue, showing most of the plinth.
“He that is down need fear no fall”
John Bunyan (1628–1688)

He that is down need fear no fall;   
  He that is low, no pride;   
He that is humble ever shall   
  Have God to be his guide.   

I am content with what I have,          
  Little be it or much;   
And, Lord, contentment still I crave,   
  Because thou savest such.   

Fulness to such a burden is   
  That go on pilgrimage;          
Here little, and hereafter bliss,   
  Is best from age to age.

"Home on the Range"
based Brewster Higley poem "The Western Home"

Oh give me a home where the buffalo roam,
Where the deer and the antelope play,
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

Chorus Home, home on the range,
Where the deer and the antelope play,
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

Where the air is so pure, and the zephyrs so free,
The breezes so balmy and light,
That I would not exchange my home on the range,
For all of the cities so bright.

The Red man was pressed from this part of the west,
He's likely no more to return,
To the banks of the Red River where seldom if ever
Their flickering campfires burn.

How often at night when the heavens are bright,
With the light from the glittering stars,
Have I stood there amazed and asked as I gazed,
If their glory exceeds that of ours.

Oh, I love these wild flowers in this dear land of ours,
The curlew I love to hear cry,
And I love the white rocks and the antelope flocks,
That graze on the mountain slopes high.

Oh give me a land where the bright diamond sand,
Flows leisurely down in the stream;
Where the graceful white swan goes gliding along,
Like a maid in a heavenly dream.

Then I would not exchange my home on the range,
Where the deer and the antelope play;
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.


Dr Brewster Martin Higley, VI (1822 - 1911) - Find A Grave Memorial