The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #21766   Message #1167508
Posted By: harpgirl
21-Apr-04 - 10:32 PM
Thread Name: Origins of Row, Row, Row Your Boat
Subject: RE: Origins of Row, Row, Row Your Boat
Here is the song from recent SingOUt. It is beautiful and easy to singa and play:

Row your boat
Sing Out! The Folk Song Magazine, Winter, 2004, by R. Sinclair, Debby McClatchy

"Row Your Boat" is a sentimental mid-19th century parlor song that eventually gave way to the popular round with the similar title and chorus. (The round appeared for the first time in The Franklin Square Song Collection in 1881.) Also, known as "The Old Log Hut," the song was first published in 1852 with R. Sinclair cited as the composer. In 1854 the same words to a different melody were copyrighted by Berry and Gordon under the title "The Future's But a Dream." Debby McClatchy learned "Row Your Boat" from the singing of original Coon Creek Girl Lily May Ledford. In his song notes to Lily May's Gems: Rare Concert and Studio Recordings 1968-1983, Ron Pen writes that Lily probably learned the song from sheet music in Renfro Valley Barndance producer John Lair's extensive music library. The version printed here includes Debby's original third verse ("Our Children ...") and is on her newest album, Chestnut Ridge (Trails End #2003; available from R.R. 1, Box 74, Roaring Spring, PA 16673; Ph: 530-389-2120).


   Down by the river, the old log hut stands
   Where Mamma and Daddy once dwelt
   And the old oak latch that was
   worn by the hands
   And the church where in prayer
   they knelt

   CHORUS:

   Row, row, row your boat
   Gently down the stream
   For all that is past is over,
   you know,
   And the future is but a dream

   Time and its rapid remorsefulless plan
   Has furrowed our brows with care
   And the icy touch of its withered hand
   Has slivered our locks of hair

   CHORUS

   Our children have grown and have
   children of their own
   I hear their voices echo still
   And the old rocking horse sits
   quiet on the porch
   As we listen to the wishful
   whippoorwill

   CHORUS

   Tall grass is growing over the
   master's grave
   But the river keeps rolling on
   And the birds and the bees from
   the blossoms and the trees
   Keep singing this same old song

   CHORUS

   For all that is past is over, you know,
   And the future is but a dream


COPYRIGHT 2004 Sing Out Corporation
COPYRIGHT 2003 Gale Group
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