River in the Pines

Mary was a maiden
When the birds began to sing
She was fairer than the blooming rose
Early in the spring

Her thoughts were gay and happy
And the morning rare and fine
For her lover was a river boy
From the river in the pines

Charlie got married
To his Mary in the spring
When the trees were budding early
And the birds began to sing

But early in the autumn
When the fruit is in the wine
I'll return to you, my darling
And the river in the pines

Was early in the morning
In Wisconsin's dreary clime
When he rode the lonely rapids
For that last and fatal time

They found his body lying
On the rocky shores below
Where the silent water ripples
And the whispering cedars blow

Now every raft of lumber
That comes down the Chippewa
There's a lonely grave that's visited
By drivers on their way

They plant wild flowers on it
In the morning, fair and fine
'Tis the grave of two young lovers
From the river in the pines

Well, they plant wild flowers on it
In the morning, fair and fine
It's the grave of two young lovers
From the river in the pines

In the pines

In the pines