But not so in America, The birthplace of the free.

For 'midst the conflict Over There, With loss of life and liberty, It's a privilege to know, That in a world, so fraught with pain, We feel secure from every foe Where naught but fellowship remains.

For in our free country, We hear not the battlecry, We hear not the bugle's solemn call, When men go forth to die.

For over all this land of ours The Stars and Stripes still wave, Waving forth in triumph O'er this homeland of the brave.

Hats off! to our own America, With pride we now can say, We bow not down to rulers, For justice still holds sway.

God keep us free from scenes like those That are in other lands, Where the shell-shocked and the wounded Are there on every hand.

So, it's great to be an American, We'll stand by our flag always, For right shall not perish from the earth As long as truth holds sway; As long as her sons are united In a cause that's just and true, The bells of freedom still will ring, Ring out for me and you.

--Nannie Hamm Carter

SAD LONDON TOWN

Jilson Setters composed and set to tune this ballad and sang it at the American Folk Song Festival in June, 1941, to the delight of a vast audience. To the surprise of some he pronounces the word bomb, _bum_, like his early English ancestors.

Eight years ago I took a trip, I decided to cross the sea; I spent some weeks in London, Everything was strange to me.

The city then was perfect peace, They had no thought of fear, Soon then the bombs began to fall, The airplanes hovered near.

The people cannot rest at night, Danger lingers nigh, Bombs have dropped on many homes, The innocent had to die.

The flying glass cut off their heads, Their hands and noses too; Folks then had to stand their ground, There was nothing else to do.

English folks are brave and true, But do not want to fight.

The Germans slip into their town And bomb their homes at night.

They watch the palace of the King, They watch it night and day; They have a strong and daring guard To keep the foe at bay.

--Jilson Setters

The aged fiddler also composed and set to tune the following ballad called--

BUNDLES FOR BRITAIN

Two little children toiled along A steep and lonely mountain road, They heeded not the bitter cold But proudly bore their precious load.

I asked them where they might be bound And what their heavy load might be.

They said, "We're going to the town To send our load across the sea.

"For, far away on England's shore, Our own blood kin still live, you know; They fight to stay the tyrant's hand That threatens freedom to o'erthrow.

"And many little homeless ones Are cold and hungry there today, 'Tis them we seek to feed and clothe And every night for them we pray.

"Some of them reach our own dear land, While others perish in the sea; And we must help and comfort them Until their land from war is free."

Oh, may we like these children face The curse of hate and war's alarm With faith and courage in our hearts And Britain's Bundles 'neath our arms.

--Jilson Setters

SERGEANT YORK

His own favorite ballad, however, is that which he composed and set to tune several years ago about Sergeant Alvin C. York, who is Jilson Setters' idea of "a mountain man without nary flaw."

'Way down in Fentress County in the hills of Tennessee Lived Alvin York, a simple country lad.

He spent his happy childhood with his brothers on the farm, Or at the blacksmith shop with busy dad.

He could play a hand of poker, hold his liquor like a man, He did his share of prankin' in his youth; But his dying father left him with the family in his care, And he quickly sought the ways of God and truth.

Then came the mighty World War in the year of seventeen, And Uncle Sam sent out his call for men.

Poor Alvin's heart was heavy for he knew that he must go, And his Church contended "fighting was a sin."

He never questioned orders and did the best he could, And soon a corporal he came to be; He was known throughout the country as the army's fighting ace, Beloved in every branch of infantry.

The eighth day of October the Argonne battle raged, Machine guns whined and rifle bullets flew; Then Alvin lost his temper, he said, "I've had enough, I'll show these Huns what Uncle Sam can do."

He took his army rifle and his automatic too, And hid himself behind a nearby tree; He shot them like he used to shoot the rabbits and the squirrels Away back home in sunny Tennessee.

He took the whole battalion--one-hundred-thirty-two-- While thirty-five machine guns ceased to fire; And twenty German soldiers lay lifeless on the ground As he marched his prisoners through the bloody mire.

His name was not forgotten, a hero brave was he, Our country proudly hailed his fearless deeds; He was offered fame and fortune but for these he did not care, His daily toil supplied his simple needs.

"I want nothing for myself" he said, "but for the boys and girls, Who live here in the hills of Tennessee, I'd like to have a school for them to teach them how to farm And raise their families in security."

His wish was quickly granted. At Jamestown, Tennessee, There stands a school, the mountains' joy and pride; And with his wife and children in the hills he loves so well, He hopes in peace forever to abide.

--Jilson Setters

A Tennessee mountaineer, who is proud of his "wight of learning"

according to his own words, "put together" this ballad which he calls--

NORRIS DAM

At Norris Dam, our Uncle Sam Has wrought a mighty deed.

He built a dam, did Uncle Sam, So "all who run may read."

He saw the "writing on the wall"-- Called the soothsayers in.

Soothsayers all, both great and small Said, "It would be a sin--

"To let the things God wrought for man Stand idle all the years.

But use God's knowledge (in a can), Soothsaying engineers."

And so, this miracle today You see with your own eyes, Was planned ten million miles away-- In "mansions in the skies."