Classic Poem

The river's singin' to the sea — the river cool an' deep, —
An' the reason that I know it is it's singin' me to sleep!
Past all the plains an' medders — past fiel's whar folks 'll reap,
It's singin' me to sleep, folks — it's singin' me to sleep!
Singin' me to sleep
Whar they sow an' reap —
In the shadders
O' the medders
It's singin' me to sleep!

It's jest a-lazyin' along; — no track o' time I keep;
I only know the river's song is singin' me to sleep.
The busy worl' is workin' — the busy worl' must weep,
But the river as it ripples on is singin' me to sleep!
Singin' me to sleep
Whar they sow an' reap —
In the shadders
O' the medders
It's singin' me to sleep!

I ain't got no ambition; — the hills air mighty steep!
I'm happier whar the river is singin' me to sleep.
Never did like workin' — too hot to sow or reap;
I only wish the river could sing the worl' to sleep!
Singin' me to sleep: —
Folks that work must weep;
But in shadders
O' the medders
It's singin' me to sleep!