Far, far in many lands I’ve wander’d,
Sadly and lone,
My heart was ever turning southward,
To all the dear ones at home;
Here after all my weary roaming,
At early dawn,
I’ve come and find the cot still standing,
But oh the Old folks are gone.
Here I wander sad an lonely,
In the dear old home,
Those that I lov’d so well and fondly,
All all the old folks are gone.
Here’s where I frolick’d with my brother,
Under the tree,
Here’s where I knelt beside my mother,
From care and sorrow free;
Still sing, the little birds as sweetly,
At night and morn,
Still runs the little brook so fleetly,
But O the old folks are gone.
Down where the old banana’s waving,
They’re laid to rest,
Where Swanee’s peaceful water’s laving,
The green turf o’er their breast;
But there’s a home I know where parting,
Never can come,
Oh, for that home I must be starting,
There’s where the old folks are gone.
Wurzel, George Friedrich, "The Old Folks Are Gone" (1852). Historic Sheet Music Collection. 1148.
The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.