The Golden Lamb is Ohio’s oldest inn, in operation since 1803.  My grandparents dearly loved the place and used to take my brother and me there for weekend stays back in the 1950’s.  I remember sleeping in the huge, carved, Victorian bed in the room that honors Charles Dickens, one of the inn’s many famous guests.

Unchanged today, the Golden Lamb is a place where I can still feel the presence of my beloved grandparents.  Our own little family dines there, once a year, on Jo’s birthday.

In the late 1970’s we stayed in the inn with a group of friends we’d brought down from north central Ohio (where we lived until 1994) to attend the Boar’s Head Festival at Cincinnati’s Christ Church Cathedral, the event described in last week’s ‘mpFree.’

One of our party, impressed with the inn’s Christmas decorations, said, “There ought to be a Carol of the Golden Lamb.”   A few weeks later she sent me a sweet little poem she’d written.  Here it is:

* * * * * * * * * *

The Carol of the Golden Lamb
         by K. A. (she likes to keep a low profile, unlike a certain hambone composer you know)

The frost lay light upon the slopes,
The stars were crystal thorns,
When from the soul of earth's weak hopes
The Shepherd Child was born.

Then came all creatures great and small
To celebrate the new-born King;
With muzzled fang and sheathed claw
Their homage wild to bring.

But one small lamb, the only one
Of winged and creeping folk,
New-born as well, had missed the Son
Whom men of old forespoke.

Well-guarded by her shepherd's crook
The lamb grew ever strong.
Yet longing sunny days o'er-took
And hushed the lambkin's song.

One hazy dawn she slipped away
To roam the dusty streets.
She found the tiny Prince that day
And kept her vigil sweet.

She watched Him from the open door;
She dared not enter there
For fear her hooves upon the floor
Would wake the Infant fair.

The Babe awoke and crowed with glee
To see the curly lamb.
He crooned in child-like hymnody,
He waved His tiny hands.

And as she knelt beside His cot,
The golden Day-spring sun
Glowed soft and shining on her coat —
Of golden ringlets spun.

* * * * * * * * * *

I set this poem to music, first as a choral piece, later as a baritone solo.

To hear baritone Jose Rubio smilingly singing "Carol of The Golden Lamb” (I fancy I can hear his smile, especially in the final line when he rolls the “R” in “ringlets") with collaborative pianist Avedis Manoogian, click here:
http://www.sowash.com/recordings/mp3/golden_lamb.mp3

To see a PDF of the score, click here:
http://www.sowash.com/recordings/mp3/golden_lamb.pdf

I'd love to know what you think about this music; reply if you're inclined.  But please don't feel that you are expected to reply.  I'm just glad to share my work in this way.

As always, feel free to forward this message to friends who might enjoy it.

Anyone can be on my little list of recipients for these mpFrees (as I call these musical emails).  To sign up, people should email me at rick@sowash.com, sending just one word:  "Yes."   I'll know what it means.   To unsubscribe, reply “unsubscribe.”

Rick Sowash
Cincinnati, OH
Dec. 27, 2015
www.sowash.com
photo:   http://www.sowash.com/press/Sowash_Publicity_2015.jpg