Way down upon de Swanee Ribber, Far, far away, Dere ’s wha my heart is turning ebber, Dere ’s wha de old folks stay. All up and down de whole creation Sadly I roam, Still longing for de old plantation, And for de old folks at home. All de world am sad and dreary, Eberywhere I roam; Oh, darkeys, how my heart grows weary, Far from de old folks at home! All round de little farm I wandered When I was young, Den many happy days I squandered, Many de songs I sung. When I was playing wid my brudder Happy was I; Oh, take me to my kind old mudder! Dere let me live and die. One little hut among de bushes, One dat I love, Still sadly to my memory rushes, No matter where I rove. When will I see de bees a-humming All round de comb? When will I hear de banjo tumming, Down in my good old home? All de world am sad and dreary, Eberywhere I roam, Oh, darkeys, how my heart grows weary, Far from de old folks at home!
Old Folks at Home
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Way down upon de Swanee Ribber, Far, far away, Dere ’s wha my heart is turning ebber, Dere ’s wha de old folks stay. All up and down de whole creation Sadly I roam, Still longing for de old plantation, And for de old folks at home. All de world am sad and dreary, Ebery where I...
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Negro Song THE SUN shines bright on our old Kentucky home; ’T is summer, the darkeys are gay; The corn top ’s ripe and the meadow ’s in the bloom, While the birds make music all the day; The young folks roll on the little cabin floor, All merry, all happy, all bright; By’m by hard times...
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Round de meadows am a-ringing De darkeys’ mournful song, While de mocking-bird am singing, Happy as de day am long. Where de ivy am a-creeping, O’er de grassy mound, Dere old massa am a-sleeping, Sleeping in de cold, cold ground. Down in de corn-field Hear dat mournful sound...
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Way down upon de Swanee Ribber, Far, far away, Dere ’s wha my heart is turning ebber, Dere ’s wha de old folks stay. All up and down de whole creation Sadly I roam, Still longing for de old plantation, And for de old folks at home. All de world am sad and dreary, Eberywhere I...
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The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home; ’T is summer, the darkeys are gay; The corn-top’s ripe, and the meadow’s in the bloom, While the birds make music all the day. The young folks roll on the little cabin floor, All merry, all happy and bright; By-’n’-by hard times comes a-...