"The Little Brown Church in the Vale" also called "The Church in the Wildwood" br br Victor Male Quartet br br Victor 17982 br br 1915 br br Song by Will­iam S. Pitts. br br W. S. (William Savage) Pitts was born in 1830. He died in 1918. He wrote, "One bright af­ter­noon of a day in June 1857, I first set foot in old Brad­ford, Io­wa, com­ing by stage from Mc­Gre­gor. My home was in Wis­con­sin. The spot where the Lit­tle Brown Church now stands was a set­ting of rare beau­ty. There was no church there, but the spot was there wait­ing for it. When back in my home I wrote the song ‘The Lit­tle Brown Church in the Vale.’ I put the ma­nu­script away. In the spring of 1862 I re­turned to Io­wa and set­tled at Fred­er­icks­burg…In the years of 1859 and 1860 the good peo­ple of Brad­ford were de­ter­mined to build a church…By the ear­ly win­ter of 1864 the build­ing was rea­dy for de­di­ca­tion. While I was hold­ing the sing­ing school, near its close in the spring, the class went one ev­en­ing to the church. It was not then seat­ed, but rude seats were im­pro­vised. My ma­nu­script of the song I had brought with me from Wis­con­sin. It had ne­ver been sung be­fore by any­one but my­self. I sang it there. Soon af­ter­wards I took the ma­nu­script to Chi­ca­go [Il­li­nois], where it was pub­lished by H. M. Hig­gins. It won a speedy re­cog­ni­tion lo­cal­ly and with the years won its way in­to the hearts of the peo­ple of the world." br br There’s a church in the val­ley by the wild­wood, br No love­li­er spot in the dale; br No place is so dear to my child­hood, br As the li­ttle brown church in the vale. br br Come to the church in the wild­wood, br Oh, come to the church in the dale, br No spot is so dear to my child­hood, br As the lit­tle brown church in the vale. br br How sweet on a clear, Sab­bath morn­ing, br To list to the clear ring­ing bell; br Its tones so sweet­ly are call­ing, br Oh, come to the church in the vale. br br There, close by the church in the val­ley, br Lies one that I loved so well; br She sleeps, sweet­ly sleeps, ’neath the wil­low, br Disturb not her rest in the vale. br br There, close by the side of that loved one, br To trees where the wild flow­ers bloom, br When the fare­well hymn shall be chant­ed br I shall rest by her side in the tomb. br br From the church in the val­ley by the wild­wood, br When day fades away in­to night, br I would fain from this spot of my child­hood br Wing my way to the man­sions of light.