The Country Doctor
Lucia Marconi and The Carpool to Nashville Lyrics
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That has never been outdone
Since the soldiers took their muskets to the war of '61,
And a lot of lumber wagons near the church upon the hill,
And a crowd of country people, Sunday dressed and very still.
Now each window is preempted by a dozen heads or more,
Now the spacious pews are crowded
From the pulpit to the door;
Lies the grim old country doctor, in a massive oaken bed,
Lies the fierce old country doctor,
Lies the kind old country doctor,
Whom the populace considered with a mingled love and dread.
Maybe half the congregation, now of great or little worth,
Found this watcher waiting for them, when they came upon the earth;
This undecorated soldier, of a hard, unequal strife,
Fought in many stubborn battles with the foes that sought their life.
In the nighttime or the daytime, he would rally brave and well,
Though the summer lark was fifing or the frozen lances fell;
Knowing, if he won the battle, they would praise their Maker's name,
Knowing, if he lost the battle, then the doctor was to blame.
'Twas the brave old virtuous doctor,
'Twas the good old faulty doctor,
'Twas the faithful country doctor-fighting stoutly all the same.
When so many pined in sickness he had stood so strongly by,
Half the people felt a notion that the doctor couldn't die;
They must slowly learn the lesson how to live from day to day,
And have somehow lost their bearings-
Now this landmark is away.
But perhaps it still is better that his busy life is done;
He has seen old views and patients disappearing, one by one;
He has learned that Death is master both of science and of art;
He has done his duty fairly and has acted out his part.
And the strong old country doctor,
And the weak old country doctor
And the strong old country doctor,
And the weak old country doctor
The Country Doctor by Lucia Marconi and The Carpool to Nashville is a touching and reflective song about a community coming together to mourn the passing of their beloved doctor. The opening lyrics describe a gathering in the village that has never been outdone since the soldiers took their muskets to the war of '61. The scene is set with lumber wagons near the church upon the hill, and a crowd of country people, dressed in their Sunday best and very still. The windows are covered by dozen heads or more, and the spacious pews are crowded from the pulpit to the door. The doctor lies in a massive oaken bed, covered by a black coverlet, and is revered and feared by the people, who considered him with a mingled love and dread.
The lyrics go on to describe the doctor as an undecorated soldier, of a hard, unequal strife, who fought in many stubborn battles with the foes that sought their life. He was a brave, faithful, and virtuous doctor, who fought stoutly all the same. He was present when so many pined in sickness, and had stood strongly by half the people, who felt a notion that the doctor couldn't die. However, now that he is gone, the community must slowly learn the lesson of how to live day by day, and have somehow lost their bearings as this landmark is away. But perhaps it is better that his busy life is done, as he has seen old views and patients disappearing one by one. He has done his duty fairly, and has acted out his part.
Contributed by Charlie E. Suggest a correction in the comments below.