Misc Traditional – The Cremation Of Sam Mcgee (Guitar)

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The cremation of Sam McGee is something of a beloved traditional ballad in my family and is recited by various family members at get-togethers. I struggled remembering such a long ballad and wished it was set to music, which I find easier to put to memory. Recently I stumbled across a You-Tube video (sorry, lost the source!) of someone singing it to the tune of the "County Down." I was absolutely tickled about it and figured I'd better share. Rhythm-wise I use a more up-beat count but don't usually go quite so fast as the Irish Rovers in their County down. By Robert William Service (with slight adjustments for flow)
          Em                         G        D
There are strange things done in the midnight sun

       Em      C        D
By the men who moil for gold;

    Em                       G      D
The Arctic trails have their secret tales

           Em        D         Em
That would make your blood run cold;

    G                    D
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

        Em            C        D
But the queerest they ever did see

         Em                    G    D
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

  Em       D     Em
I cremated Sam McGee.

    Em                 G      D
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, 

          Em     C          D
where the cotton blooms and blows.

       Em                   G        D
Why he left his home in the South to roam 

           Em    D        Em
'round the Pole, God only knows.

       G                    D
He was always cold, but the land of gold 

          Em       C      D
seemed to hold him like a spell;

            Em               G      D
Though he'd often say in his homely way 

          Em      D       Em
that he'd "sooner live in hell".

     Em                    G           D
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way 

Em       C      D      
over the Dawson trail.

Em                             G       D
Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold

   Em             D      Em
it stabbed like a driven nail.

       G                         D   
If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze 

     Em           C        D
till sometimes we couldn't see;

   Em                       G    D
It wasn't much fun, but the only one 

   Em          D   Em
to whimper was Sam McGee.

         Em                G          D
And that very night, as we lay packed tight 

       Em         C      D
in our robes beneath the snow,

        Em                     G          D
And the dogs were fed, and the stars over head 

     Em      D        Em
were dancing heel and toe,

   G                 D      
He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, 

      Em           C       D
"I'll cash in this trip, I guess;

    Em           G           D
And if I do, I'm asking that you 

      Em        D    Em
won't refuse my last request."

         Em                   G            D
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; 

        Em          C       D
then he says with a sort of moan:

          Em                    G         D
"It's the cursed cold, and it's got right hold 

         Em            D              Em
till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.

     G                            D  
Yet 'tain't being dead -- it's my awful dread 

       Em  C          D
of the icy grave that pains;

     Em                      G       D
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, 

        Em        D       Em
you'll cremate my last remains."

  Em                   G        D
A pal's last need is a thing to heed,

     Em      C         D
so I swore I would not fail;

       Em                G         D
And we started on at the streak of dawn; 

    Em      D              Em
but God! he looked ghastly pale.

   G                              D
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day 

       Em      C     D
of his home in Tennessee;

        Em             G          D
And before nightfall a corpse was all 

         Em      D     Em
that was left of Sam McGee.

      Em                      G       D
There wasn't a breath in that land of death, 

      Em       C      D
and I hurried, horror-driven,

       Em                     G            D
With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, 

    Em       D       Em
because of a promise given;

       G                            D    
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say:

         Em       C         D
"You may tax your brawn and brains,

        Em                      G     D
But you promised true, and it's up to you 

       Em        D      Em
to cremate those last remains."

      Em                G       D
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, 

        Em            C         D
and the trail has its own stern code.

       Em                      G         D
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, 

      Em          D           Em
in my heart how I cursed that load.

       G                        D 
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, 

          Em       C          D
while the huskies, round in a ring,

       Em                    G        D
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows 

     Em         D           Em
-- O God! how I loathed the thing.

    Em             G     D
And every day that quiet clay 

          Em        C       D
seemed to heavy and heavier grow;

         Em               G         D
And on I went, though the dogs were spent 

        Em       D       Em
and the grub was getting low;

    G                    D    
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, 

      Em      C              D
but I swore I would not give in;

        Em                G       D
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, 

       Em        D      Em
and it hearkened with a grin.

       Em                   G      D
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, 

      Em       C     D
and a derelict there lay;

       Em                       G        D
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice 

       Em          D     Em
it was called the "Alice May".

      G                   D
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, 

      Em           C      D
and I looked at my frozen chum;

     Em                     G      D
Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry, 

       Em     D    Em
"is my cre-ma-tor-eum."

     Em                     G     Em 
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, 

      Em      C      D
and I lit the boiler fire;

     Em                    G        D
Some coal I found that was lying around, 

      Em         D    Em
and I heaped the fuel higher;

    G                           D  
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared 

          Em        C      D
-- such a blaze you seldom see;

      Em                     G       D
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, 

      Em         D     Em
and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

       Em                 G      D
Then I made a hike, for I didn't like 

   Em       C      D
to hear him sizzle so;

        Em                       G       D
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, 

        Em      D     Em
and the wind began to blow.

       G                 D                
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled 

        Em            C          Em
down my cheeks, and I don't know why;

        Em                 G    D
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak 

     Em        D        Em
went streaking down the sky.

  Em              G           D
I do not know how long in the snow 

  Em            C      D
I wrestled with grisly fear;

        Em                      G        D
But the stars came out and they danced about 

    Em      D        Em
ere again I ventured near;

      G                      D 
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: 

           Em     C       D
"I'll just take a peep inside.

  Em                          G      D 
I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; . . . 

         Em     D      Em
then the door I opened wide.

    Em                     G        D
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, 

       Em           C       D
in the heart of the furnace roar;

       Em                     G     D
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, 

       Em            D          Em 
and he said: "Please close that door.

     G                   D            
It's fine in here, but I greatly fear 

       Em         D        Em
you'll let in the cold and storm --

        Em                     G     D    
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, 

         Em         D         Em
it's the first time I've been warm."

          Em                         G        D
There are strange things done in the midnight sun

       Em      C        D
By the men who moil for gold;

    Em                       G      D
The Arctic trails have their secret tales

           Em        D         Em
That would make your blood run cold;

    G                    D
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

        Em            C        D
But the queerest they ever did see

         Em                    G    D
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

  Em       D     Em
I cremated Sam McGee.