Where the waters kiss the silent shore,
There’s a little pot that I adore,
When the evening shadows fall,
And the night winds call;
In a nook just underneath the trees
Where old nature sends a gentle breeze,
I will build a campfire dear,
Just to cheer, while you’re near.
Come where the campfire is gleaming,
Come where the fireflies are beaming,
Down where the river is streaming by,
There I’ll waiting for you,
waiting where the flames are glowing
To tell you I adore you,
underneath the clear moonlight so bright;
Come where my banjo is ringing,
Where summer breezes are singing,
Down where the night owl is winging, too;
I hear him calling you,
Yes, the owl is calling you,
Oh, my honey,
Come by the campfire,
Come by the campfire bright.
I can see the moonlight on your hair,
There’s a little spot that I adore,
Lighting up your beauty rare,
In the fire light’s call; In a nook just underneath the trees,
Long to hear you tell me you’ll be true,
There beneath the summer skies,
Magic lies, in your eyes.
Girling, Mabel Elizabeth and Wenlich, Percy, "By the Campfire" (1919). Historic Sheet Music Collection. 171.
The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.