Beadle's Dime Song Book No. 1. Various

      Thy Willie’ll roam no more, thy Willie’ll roam no more,

      Then wipe away thy tears, Mary, for thy Willie’ll roam no more.

      How often since I left you, love, in solitude and tears,

      Have I bless’d that love which clung to me through many changing years;

      And while I paced the silent deck, forgotten and alone,

      Has my heart recall’d thy love-lit smile, thy sweet and gentle tone.

      Thy image, love, has e’er been shrined within this fond heart’s core;

      But wipe away thy tears, Mary, for thy Willie’ll roam no more.

      Dear Mary, when in life’s sweet morn, in all thy youthful pride,

      I bore thee, virgin, bathed in tears, from thy fond mother’s side,

      And promised at the altar to love through life as now,

      Say, Mary, when life’s sorrows came, did I forget that vow?

      Your heart will own I left you, love, our fortunes to restore;

      Then wipe away thy tears, Mary, for thy Willie’ll roam no more.

      The other night while I was sparking

      Sweet Turlina Spray,

      The more we whisper’d our love talking,

      The more we had to say;

      The old folks and the little folks

      We thought were fast in bed, —

      We heard a footstep on the stairs,

      And what d’ye think she said?

      “Oh! kiss me quick and go my honey,

      Kiss me quick and go!

      To cheat surprise and prying eyes,

      Why kiss me quick and go!”

      Soon after that I gave my love

      A moonlight promenade,

      At last we fetch’d up to the door

      Just where the old folks stay’d;

      The clock struck twelve, her heart struck two (too).

      And peeping over head

      We saw a night-cap raise the blind,

      And what d’ye think she said?

      One Sunday night we sat together,

      Sighing side by side,

      Just like two wilted leaves of cabbage

      In the sunshine fried;

      My heart with love was nigh to split

      To ask her for to wed,

      Said I: “Shall I go for the priest,”

      And what d’ye think she said?

      Maxwelton Braes are bonnie,

      Where early fa’s the dew,

      And it’s there that Annie Laurie

      Gie’d me her promise true;

      Gie’d me her promise true,

      Which ne’er forget will be;

      And for bonnie Annie Laurie

      I’d lay me doune and dee.

      Her brow is like the snaw-drift —

      Her throat is like the swan,

      Her face it is the fairest

      That e’er the sun shone on —

      That e’er the sun shone on —

      And dark blue is her e’e;

      And for bonnie Annie Laurie

      I’d lay me doune and dee.

      Like dew on the gowan lying,

      Is the fa’ o’ her fairy feet,

      And like the winds in summer sighing,

      Her voice is low and sweet,

      Her voice is low and sweet,

      And she’s a’ the world to me;

      And for bonnie Annie Laurie

      I’d lay me doune and dee.

      Down on de Mississippi floating,

      Long time I trabble on de way

      All night de cotton-wood a toting,

      Sing for my true lub all de day.

      Nelly was a lady,

      Last night she died;

      Toll de bell for lubly Nell,

      My dark Virginny bride.

      Now I’m unhappy and I’m weeping,

      Can’t tote de cotton-wood no more:

      Last night, while Nelly was a sleeping,

      Death came a knocking at de door.

      When I saw my Nelly in de morning

      Smile till she open’d up her eyes,

      Seem’d like de light ob day a dawning

      Jist for de sun begin to rise.

      Close by de margin ob de water,

      Whar de lone weeping-willow grows

      Dar lib’d Virginny’s lubly daughter,

      Dar she in death may find repose.

      Down in de meadow ’mong the clober,

      Walk wid my Nelly by my side:

      Now all dem happy days am ober, —

      Farewell, my dark Virginny bride,

      Oh! the river is up, and the channel is deep,

      And the wind blows steady and strong;

      Let the splash of your oars the measure keep,

      As we row the old boat along.

      Oh! the water is bright, and flashing like gold,

      In the ray of the morning sun,

      And old Dinah’s away up out of the cold,

      A getting the hoe-cake done.

      Oh! the river is up, and the channel is deep,

      And the wind blows steady and strong;

      Let the splash of your oars the measure keep,

      As we row the old boat along.

      Chorus.– Down the river, down the river,

      Down