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 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, Ebery where I roam; Oh, darkeys, how my heart grows weary, Far from de old folks at home! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WITH A COPY OF HERRICK by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE KEATS; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ULTIMA THULE: THE CHAMBER OVER THE GATE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW PASSER MORTUUS EST by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE HAND OF LINCOLN by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 18 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |