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A ballad is normally an orally transmitted poem telling a popular (often dramatic) story that is often derived from a tragic incident in local history or legend. It is often a narrative set to music. The form was often used by poets and composers from the 18th century onwards to produce lyrical ballads. In the 19th century ballads took on the meaning of a slow form of love song. The term is often synonymous with any love song. It is particularly popular with pop or rock ballads and is a popular topic for music contests at


    Crybaby, Don't Cry

    Crybaby, some say she's still heard at night.
    Swiftly, and o'er the bridge the wheels did go;
    A screaming mother cried for help to save
    The child who plunged to waters deep below.
    A haunting cry so sad, tears filled their eyes
    Crybaby, please don't cry.

    The road that leads where she last sweetly sighed
    Is scattered with the blooms of redbud trees
    And white blossoms the dogwoods left behind.
    They're for the baby some may wish to see.
    Don't cry baby, your mother's surely nigh.

    When was it though, 1800s or so,
    How did her fam'ly live, and laugh so gay;
    Not knowing that her coos and goos would hush?
    She's surely fed and hugged; just another day.
    But, baby why, cry, why, and frighten too?

    No one knows for sure, or if this legend's true,
    Or where was Daddy, and why do tears flow?
    But, it was this gentle child who paid.
    A horrid tale some say, spoken by those
    Wanting to hear the cries that bring a chill,
    And the mother searching for her still,
    The baby in this Crybaby Hollow.

    Hush-a-bye, and never cry,
    For in the arms so ever nigh, of Jesus;
    Crybaby, now's time to sigh.
    - written by donnadiann

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