In the bright sunny south in peace and content, The days of my boyhood, I scarcely have spent.
From the deep flowing springs to the broad flowing stream
Ever dear to my memory, and sweet is my dream.
I leave my confinement and comfort of life, The dangers of bloodshed, provision, and strife.
I come to conclose and reply with my word
As I shoulder my musket and billet my sword.
My father looked sad as he begged me to part
And my mother embraced me with anguish of heart; And my beautiful sister looked pale in her woe
As she grabbed me and blessed me and told me to go.
Dear father, dear father, for me do not weep, For on some high mountain, I mean for to sleep; And the danger of war, I intend for to share
And for sickness and death, I intend to prepare.
Dear mother, dear mother, for me do not weep, For a mother′s kind voice I ever will keep, You have taught me to be brave from a boy to a man
And I'm going in defense of our own native land.
Dear sister, dear sister, I cannot tell the woe, Your tears and your sorrow, they trouble me so.
I must be a-going for here I cannot stand, I′m going in defense of our own native land.
Writer(s): Doc Watson
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