Oh niggers come and listen, a story I’ll relate,
It happened in de valley in de ole Carolina state;
It was down in de meadow I used to make de hay
I always work de harder when I tink on you dear May.
My massa gib me holiday, I whish he’d gib me more,
I tank’d him bery kindly, as I shuved my boat from shore.
And down de ribber paddled with a heart as light and free,
To de cottage ob my lubly May, I longed so much to see,
On de bank ob de ribber, where de trees dey hang so low,
Where de coon among de branches play, and de mink he keeps below,
Oh dere is de spot, and May she looks so sweet,
Her eyes dey sparkle like de stars, an her lips am red as beet.
Beneath de shady ole oak tree, I sot for many an hour,
As happy as de buzzard bird dat sports among de flower,
But dearest May I left her, an she cried when both we parted,
I gave her a long and farewell kiss, an back to massa started.