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Video: I’ll Fly Away | Clara Rose and Family
“I’ll Fly Away” is a hymn written in 1929 by Albert E. Brumley and published in 1932 by the Hartford Music company in a collection titled Wonderful Message. Brumley’s writing was influenced by the 1924 secular ballad, “The Prisoner’s Song“.
“I’ll Fly Away” has been called the most recorded gospel song in history. It is frequently used in worship services by Baptists, Pentecostals, Nazarenes, the Churches of Christ and many Methodists. It appears in many hymnals where it is listed under the topics of eternal life, heaven and acceptance. It is a standard song at bluegrass jam sessions and is often performed at funerals, including jazz funerals in the New Orleans tradition.
Albert E. Brumley has been described as the “pre-eminent gospel songwriter” of the 20th century with over 600 published songs. Other popular songs by Brumley include “Jesus, Hold My Hand”, “Turn Your Radio On”, “I’ll Meet You in the Morning”, and “This World Is Not My Home”. According to interviews, Brumley came up with the idea for “I’ll Fly Away” when he was working on his father’s farm in Rock Island, Oklahoma. Certain nineteenth century slave songs also contained similar lyrics, stating: “I’ll fly away to glory; I’ll fly away to my heavenly home, And I’ll shout glory.”
Clara Rose is an Irish singer and musician.
Running time: 3 minutes
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I’ll Fly Away
Some glad morning when this life is over
I’ll fly away
To a home on God’s celestial shore
I’ll fly away
I’ll fly away, oh, Glory
I’ll fly away
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by
I’ll fly away
Just a few more weary days and then
I’ll fly away
To a land where joy shall never end
I’ll fly away
I’ll fly away, oh, Glory
I’ll fly away
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by
I’ll fly away
Yeah, when I die, Hallelujah, by and by
I’ll fly away
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Oh this takes me back to the Berkeley Folk Festival, late 60’s, Doc Watson. Sleeping in. Ford Falcon at night ( parking lot guys let us come into the lot before they locked it at night) two high school girls (folks thought we were staying with friends —I’ve written that story somewhere). We mostly ate fruit from street trees, mooched chips and cookies, played the spoons with the artists outside the venue we couldn’t afford. ( Doc, Mississippi John Hurt, Mississippi Fred McDowell, Joan, Karawan—faces I can see but can’t remember names, perhaps mixing up a few concerts, (Doc and his son also played at Disneyland where my best friend’s dad played Cornet for the Elliot Bros Band so we tagged along in the be bus). Thanks for the memories.
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Lovely memories. Thanks, Barb!
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Be = VW. Darn spellcheck. Also, sleeping in the Ford Falcon…
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