There is a mysterious and profound connection between prayer and music – even folk music. In a book titled Classic Catholic Meditations, Fr. Bede Jarrett, O.P. writes, “[Music] mirrors for me the world, and I see God in the center of the orchestra of the universe, beating time and keeping together every form of music. ‘Even that vulgar and tavern music which makes one man merry and another mad, strikes in me,’ said old Sir Thomas Browne, ‘a deep fit of devotion and a profound contemplation of the First Composer.’”

Folk music often touches on spiritual realities, and can even take on the form of a prayer. Consider the last verse of the French folk song My Comrade:

This song tells the story of a soldier whose “dearest comrade” sacrifices his life that the other might live. In addition to instructing the heart how to feel rightly about the realities of sacrifice, generosity, friendship, and sorrow, one is reminded of the mortal wound that our Divine Comrade received in our stead – that we may have life, and have it more abundantly.

My Comrade is one of the first songs the students learn here at Saint Andrew’s, and all our banquets end with the singing of this song. It is a tradition that the last verse be sung kneeling, and to end the song with a prayer for the Poor Souls.

As we approach the end of November, throughout which the Church has called us to remember and pray for the Poor Souls, I am happy to share a video of the students of Saint Andrew’s Academy singing My Comrade together. May our departed comrades in Christ be quickly placed at the right of Christ the Lord.

My Comrade

Fighting bravely in the battle,
Galloping on and on,
Riding in the ranks of horsemen
Thou wert my dearest comrade
Thou the one I loved the most,
Thou the one I loved the most.

An arrogant cavalier
The strongest of his corps
Lunged at me in thirst of blood
But thy faithful heart showed no fear
And thy heart the lance did find
And thy heart the lance did find.

I’ve avenged this mortal wound
That thou received in my stead
Deep and deep into the dark of night
I have wept for thee my comrade
Kneeling by thy holy grave
Kneeling by thy holy grave.

In my sadness, how I wander
Without meaning I must ride
From this O so deadly ambush
I have lost my dearest comrade
I will never laugh again
I will never laugh again.

O prince pray thee, hear my ballad
Listen to my pleading call
I pray God who loves the soldier
To quickly place him my comrade,
At the right of Christ, the Lord
At the right of Christ, the Lord.