J. H. JOHNSON, SONG PUBLISHER, STATIONER AND PRINTER, No. 7 N. Tenth Street, 3 doors above Market, Philadelphia,Pa.
There’s a low green valley on the old Kentucky shore,
There I’ve whiled many happy hours away,
A sitting and singing by the little cottage door,
Where lived my darling Nelly Gray.
When the moon had climb’d the mountain, and the stars were
Then I’d take my darling Nelly Gray,
And we’d float down the river in my little canoe—
While my banjo sweetly I would play.
One day I called to see her, but “She’s gone,” the neighbors say,
The white man has bound her with his chain,
They have taken her to Georgia, to wear her life away.
While she toils among the cotton and the cane,
My canoe is under water, and my banjo is unstrung,
I’m tired of living any more;
My eyes shall look adown, and my songs shall be unsung,
While I stay on old Kentucky shore.
My eyes are getting blinded, and I cannot see my way,
Hark! there’s somebody knocking at the door;
Oh, I hear the angels calling; and I see my Nelly Gray;
Farewell to the old Kentucky shore.