Mission President Charles A. Callis published a wonderful little booklet in 1921 to preserve the songs being written and sung by his elders. His Preface reads:

A few words relative to the origin and use of the “Old-Time Southern States Missionary Songs.” They were written by Elders during their missionary days in Dixie. In response to numerous requests these songs are now compiled and published. … It is not intended that they be sung at religious services in lieu of the “strong, stalwart hymns of the present dispensation” which are in our hymn books.

President Callis alludes to an appeal by B.H. Roberts, an earlier president of the same mission, in his 1907 work, Seventies’ Course in Theology, First Year:

Let the strong stalwart hymns of the present dispensation be practiced in the quorums, and not the namby, pamby, childish hymns that sometimes find their way into the repertoire of songs sung by our Elders in the mission field.

(HT to Dr. B. at Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord, whose 19 May 2008 post Singing and LDS Missionaries is, until this morning, the only place on the web where this quotation appears. I wouldn’t have been able to identify it otherwise.) (Update: Hmmm. Okay. Immediately after this was posted, David G.’s 20 March 2008 post “Hymns that Are Peculiarly Ours”: B.H. Roberts on Music at Juvenile Instructor suddenly joins Dr. B’s post in my Google search.)

Whether B.H. Roberts considered the song below, written by Charles Franklin Steele of Coalville, Utah, a “namby, pamby, childish hymn” or not, I know not. I kinda like it. Sung to the tune of the World War I popular song “Keep the Home Fires Burning,” * Elder Steele continues a tradition from the earliest days of Mormonism of setting Mormon words to folk tunes or current popular music to supply the need for music at meetings.

* See here for the original words and a couple of World War I-era performances.

Keep the Old Love Burning

We were called forth from the workshop,
We were summoned from the plow,
And the store and desk and factory
All miss our presence now.
With glad tidings of the Gospel,
Revealed from realms of light,
We have canvassed gladly all the day,
And sung this song at night.

Keep the old love burning and our mem’ries turning
Back to dear old Dixieland, we love her true;
Here we cry repentance, often hear our sentence,
Yet the gospel trump we sound, and it calls to you.

O’er the mountains of Virginia,
Alabama’s gulf-washed strands.
Mississippi’s swamps and branches,
And old Georgia’s fruitful lands.
From the hills of Carolina,
And Kentucky’s emerald fields,
To the balmy coasts of Florida,
This chorus proudly wheels:

Keep the old love burning and our mem’ries turning
Back to dear old Dixieland, we love her true;
Here we cry repentance, often hear our sentence,
Yet the gospel trump we sound, and it calls to you.

And Atlanta, queen of Dixie,
Crowning fair the Blue Ridge hills,
Is headquarters for the Mission,
And the cure for all our ills;
Tennessee takes up the chorus,
And the pure in heart obey,
Rejoicing in the wondrous light
That moves us all to pray.

Keep the old love burning and our mem’ries turning
Back to dear old Dixieland, we love her true;
Here we cry repentance, often hear our sentence,
Yet the gospel trump we sound, and it calls to you.

Hark! ye people of the southland,
To the Mormon Elder’s voice,
For Jehovah soon shall triumph
With the people of His choice.
Come, be born again and worship
With the favored Saints of God.
Throw off all your sinful shackles
And escape the tyrant’s rod.

Keep the old love burning and our mem’ries turning
Back to dear old Dixieland, we love her true;
Here we cry repentance, often hear our sentence,
Yet the gospel trump we sound, and it calls to you.

When our missions we’ve completed,
Our releases we have read,
Ate our last baked sweet potato,
Turnip greens and hot corn bread;
Then we’ll bid farewell to Dixie,
But we’ll long for her again,
And in Zion at reunions
We will sing this happy strain:

Keep the old love burning and our mem’ries turning
Back to dear old Dixieland, we love her true;
Here we cry repentance, often hear our sentence,
Yet the gospel trump we sound, and it calls to you.

Did you sing “homemade” songs as a missionary, or are you aware of mission-written songs being used in your area today?