Book Excerpt: Counting Down Bob Dylan: His 100 Finest Songs

98. “I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine” (from John Wesley Harding, 1967)

Whenever someone tries to analyze the lyrics of Bob Dylan, one of the first things he or she has to decide is how much to trust the allusions. Does Dylan want his listeners to track down the source material or historical figures that he references and use the meanings gleaned from them for an enhanced understanding of the song, or does he mean to send us on a wild-goose chase?

The answer is probably a little of both, depending on the song. Dylan has talked about a kind of unconsciousness into which he slips when he writes his material, so the allusions likely come up in his songs without much forethought into their placement.

Yet there’s no doubt that, sometimes, he knows exactly what he’s doing when he references something else. Other times, it could be as simple as him liking how a certain name or phrase sounds, even if it’s put into an entirely different context. It’s a tricky little conundrum for fans of Bob’s music more than for fans of any other artist, and a prime example of this phenomenon is the haunting “I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine.”

The two key names that come into play here are St. Augustine and Joe Hill. St. Augustine of Hippo was a religious philosopher of the fourth and fifth century AD whose teaching and writings framed the way Christianity would come to be viewed throughout the Middle Ages.

Joe Hill was an early union activist who used fiery songs as his main weapon against those who would try to exploit labor. He was executed in 1915 after being charged with a murder that many of his friends and followers said he didn’t commit.

Do you need to know any of that to love the song? Not necessarily. Dylan creates his own version of St. Augustine for the song’s purposes anyway, which makes sense because the guy comes to him in a fever dream. It’s not exactly historical fiction.

As for Joe Hill, the reference comes into play because of the song “I Dreamed I Saw Joe Hill Last Night,” a tribute written in 1930 that has been covered by many folk artists. (Joan Baez sang it at Woodstock.) The first two lines of Dylan’s song are identical to that tribute to Hill, with the names being the only difference.

Joe Hill was essentially martyred in the sense that his commitment to activism led to his conviction and death. St. Augustine was not killed for his beliefs, but both men certainly put a cause at the forefront of their lives, so there is that similarity to ponder. Yet Dylan likely favored the phrasing of that opening line more than he needed Hill’s story to resonate with listeners.

Ultimately, the dream about which Dylan sings is a creation separate from any facts. In this reverie, St. Augustine roves wildly in search of those souls who have already been damned in an effort to let them know that theirs is not a lost cause. It is a fascinating act of empathy, especially considering that the people in these “quarters” are certainly not returning the favor (“Go on your way accordingly,” he tells them).

One of the interesting facts about St. Augustine was that he spent years as a sinner before Christianity entered his life. Knowing this might help to make sense of why Dylan chose him as his muse here. Who better than Augustine to show forgiveness for these wayward folks?

In the final verse, Dylan’s narrator is overwhelmed with shame for being among those responsible for the demise of this strange apparition. This character is representative of anyone who gets wrapped up in his or her own concerns, indirectly damning the rest of the world to a lonely death in the process. It’s not necessarily a philosophy unique to Christianity; it’s a simple plea to think of others at least as much as you think of yourself.

All of this is presented in the company of an unshowy yet lovely melody, with Bob adding an impassioned harmonica solo. The great thing about Dylan’s music is that it will keep opening up new doors to you the more you explore, yet it will also grab you at first listen with its surface beauty and emotion. “I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine” works on enough levels that you don’t need to know Christian or labor history to appreciate it, although it wouldn’t hurt if you did.