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Way down upon the 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, Ebry 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. All de world am sad and dreary, &c.

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 home, All de world am sad and dreary, &c.