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Home  »  A Library of American Literature  »  Old Folks at Home

Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889

Old Folks at Home

By Stephen Collins Foster (1826–1864)

[Born in Pittsburgh, Penn., 1826. Died in New York, N. Y., 1864. As Written and Set to Music by the Author. 1851.]

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 around 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.