C. M. Sheffield
Puritan Board Graduate
I really like Josh Turner's version of this song. His vocals are outstanding. But I still have to say, I will never cease to wonder at a man as young as Hank Williams, Sr. having the kinds of experiences necessary to compose lines such as these.
We met in the springtime when blossoms unfold;
The pastures were green, and the meadows were gold;
Our love was in flower as summer grew on;
Her love like the leaves now have withered and gone.
The roses have faded, there's frost at my door;
The birds in the morning don't sing anymore;
The grass in the valley is starting to die;
And out in the darkness the whippoorwills cry.
Alone and forsaken by fate and by man,
Oh Lord, if you hear me, please hold to my hand!
Oh, please understand!
Oh, where has she gone to? Oh, where can she be?
She may have forsaken some other like me;
She promised to honor, to love, and obey;
Each vow was a plaything that she threw away.
The darkness is falling, the sky has turned gray;
A hound in the distance is starting to bey;
I wonder, I wonder what she's thinking of;
Forsaken, forgotten without any love.
Alone and forsaken by fate and by man,
Oh Lord, if you hear me, please hold to my hand!
Oh, please understand!
Songwriter — Hank Williams, Sr.
We met in the springtime when blossoms unfold;
The pastures were green, and the meadows were gold;
Our love was in flower as summer grew on;
Her love like the leaves now have withered and gone.
The roses have faded, there's frost at my door;
The birds in the morning don't sing anymore;
The grass in the valley is starting to die;
And out in the darkness the whippoorwills cry.
Alone and forsaken by fate and by man,
Oh Lord, if you hear me, please hold to my hand!
Oh, please understand!
Oh, where has she gone to? Oh, where can she be?
She may have forsaken some other like me;
She promised to honor, to love, and obey;
Each vow was a plaything that she threw away.
The darkness is falling, the sky has turned gray;
A hound in the distance is starting to bey;
I wonder, I wonder what she's thinking of;
Forsaken, forgotten without any love.
Alone and forsaken by fate and by man,
Oh Lord, if you hear me, please hold to my hand!
Oh, please understand!
Songwriter — Hank Williams, Sr.