Lyr. Add: UP THE STREAM! THROUGH THE WOOD!
Charles Mackay

Up the stream! Through the wood! Winter is past,
Hush'd is the cold angry voice of the blast;
Soft blow the breezes, and bright shines the day;
The fountains are gushing, the roses are blushing,
And rivers are rushing; away, lads, away!
Unruffled and blue, with the light on her breast,
Lake Erie lies calm, like an ocean at rest.
So gather, make ready, with rifle and bow,
And up the stream! through the woods! row, my lads, row!

Up the stream, through the wood, thousands of miles!
Breasting the rapids, and rounding the isles;
Ours is the wilderness, come when we may,
Teeming with treasure, and all for our pleasure,-
Our pleasure and profit; away, lads, away!
The nuggets we find are the squirrel and coon,
The beaver and white wolf that howls to the moon;
So gather, make ready, with rifle and bow,
And up the stream! through the woods! row, my lads. row!

Up the stream, through the wood, hardy and bold,-
'Twould curb our free souls to go digging for gold;
There's wealth in the forest- black, white, brown, and gray;
Our sport is to find it, and danger- who'd mind it?
'Tis danger gives pleasure- away lads, away!
The full-bosom'd rivers flow merrily on;
The summer is short, 'tis our time to be gone;
Ao gather, make ready, with rifle and bow,
And up the stream! through the woods! now, my lads, row!~

Song XI, "Songs for Music," in The Poetical Works of Charles Mackay," 1876, Warne and Co., London. Scribner, Welford and Armstrong, NY. P. 552.

Perhaps the inspiration for "The New England Boys Song," or "Over the River...."