The Jug of Punch
There is a traditional Irish song called “The Jug of Punch.” A search of the internet shows that it has been recorded by no less than 45 different artists. The version that I am most familiar with is by The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem. Mostly because that was the version my father introduced me to at a very tender age. Depending on the style, it can be a ballad or a rip roaring celebration. I prefer the latter method of presentation.
The song has a very simple structure. The verses consist of four lines with the first two and last two verses rhyming. Then the chorus repeats the melody with two classic Irish nonsense lines and a repeat of the last two lines of the verse. For example:
One pleasant evening in the month of June
As I was sitting with my glass and spoon
A small bird sat on an ivy bunch
And the song he sang was the “jug of punch”
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
A small bird sat on an ivy bunch
And the song he sang was the “jug of punch”
The Irish love these nonsense lyrics. They are fun and easy to sing. My favorite all time nonsense lyric is from Finnegan’s Wake:
Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner
round the floor yer trotters shake
Bend an ear to the truth they tell ye,
we had lots of fun at Finnegan’s Wake
But I digress. Back to “Jug of Punch.” Now don’t ask me why, but this song was on my mind as I began my walk this past Monday noon. I have recently been sharing a lot of e-mails with my youngest brother about all sorts of things. I have been reflecting on my heritage so perhaps that is where it came from. Regardless of its source, it was stuck in my head. As I walked, I started making up my own lyrics to the tune:
As I was trudging through my day
I took some time to stop and pray
I asked the Lord for the pain to cease
And then my mind was filled with peace.
I liked that. I wondered how many verses I could write; turns out that I could write a lot of verses. Six are represented below, but I threw away another four that I didn’t feel made the grade. As I walked I would frame a verse, sing it a few times to make sure it worked, stop, write it down, rinse and repeat. I touched on a few topics: family, faith, prayer, aging, death and dying. As I framed the last two verses I thought of my father and his approach to his death.
Since this is supposed to be a Christian focused blog, I vetoed the bawdy verse. I couldn’t see me standing up in church singing that one. I also scrapped the ones that didn’t flow as nicely as I would like, had a questionable rhyming scheme or had a similar theme as a previous verse.
I haven’t got a clue what I would call it. Obviously “The Jug of Punch” doesn’t work anymore. So dear readers I will leave that up to you. If you have a suggestion on what the title should be, please share your idea in a comment.
As I was trudging through my day
I took some time to stop and pray
I asked the Lord for the pain to cease
And then my mind was filled with peace.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
I asked the Lord for the pain to cease
And then my mind was filled with peace. Sitting down to dine with my kids and wife
Good food and wine and a happy life
There’s nothing more in the world I crave
And I’ll thank the Lord for the gifts he gave.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
There’s nothing more in the world I crave
And I’ll thank the Lord for the gifts he gave.
I live my life with faith in God
Take comfort in His staff and rod
Like a lamb I’ll follow Him
For by His cross I’m saved from sin.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Like a lamb I’ll follow Him
For by His cross I’m saved from sin.
The seasons change and time moves ahead
Go from red to gray, the hairs on my head
My back may bend and my walk may slow
But I’ll be welcome wherever I go.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
My back may bend and my walk may slow
But I’ll be welcome wherever I go.
As I approach my dying day
Fear and loathing I’ll not portray
I’ll meet my death with a smiling face
I’ll greet the Lord with style and grace
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
I’ll meet my death with a smiling face
I’ll greet the Lord with style and grace
And when I’m dead and I’ve passed on
Those Pearly Gates I shall look upon
The Lord shall greet me with waving hand
And I’ll enter into the Promised Land.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-lay
The Lord shall greet me with waving hand
And I’ll enter into the Promised Land.
Here is an mp3 of it. Once again pretty simple – guitar and two voice tracks. I apologize for the quality. My digital mixer is on the fritz and I recorded it directly into the home computer via a piezo microphone.
God bless,
Tom Whalen
Copyright © 2007 Thomas B. Whalen