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lirik lagu the banks of the little eau pleine – judy cook

one evening last june as i rambled
the green woods and valleys among
the mosquito’s notes were melodious
and so was the whip*poor*will’s song
the frogs in the marshes were croaking
the tree*toads were whistling for rain
the partridges ’round me were drumming
on the banks of the little eau pleine

the sun in the west was declining
and tinging the treetops with red
my wandering feet bore me onward
not caring whither they lеd
i happened to see a young school*ma’am
she mournеd in a sorrowful strain
she mourned for a jolly young raftsman
on the banks of the little eau pleine

saying, “alas, my dear johnny has left me
i’m afraid i shall see him no more
he’s down on the lower wisconsin;
he’s pulling a fifty*foot oar
he went off on a fleet with ross gamble
and has left me in sorrow and pain;
and ’tis over two months since he started
from the banks of the little eau pleine.”
i stepped up beside this young school*ma’am
and thus unto her i did say
“why is it you’re mourning so sadly
while nature is smiling and g*y?”
she said, “it is for a young raftsman
for whom i so sadly complain
he has left me alone here to wander
on the banks of the little eau pleine.”

“will you please tell me what kind of clothing
your jolly young raftsman did wear?
for i also belong to the river
and perhaps i have seen him somewhere
if to me you will plainly describe him
and tell me your young raftsman’s name
perhaps i can tell you the reason
he’s not back to the little eau pleine.”

“his pants were made out of two meal*sacks
with a patch a foot square on each knee
his shirt and his jacket were dyed with
the bark of a b*tternut tree
he wore a large open*faced ticker
with almost a yard of steel chain
when he went away with ross gamble
from the banks of the little eau pleine
“he wore a red sash round his middle
with an end hanging down at each side
his shoes number ten were, of cowhide
with heels about four inches wide
his name was honest john murphy
and on it there ne’er was a stain
and he was as jolly a raftsman
as was e’er on the little eau pleine

“he was stout and broad*shouldered and manly
his height was about six feet one
his hair was inclined to be sandy
and his whiskers as red as the sun
his age was somewhere about thirty
he neither was foolish nor vain
he loved the bold wisconsin river
was the reason he left the eau pleine.”

“if john murphy’s the name of your raftsman
i used to know him very well
but sad is the tale i must tell you:
your johnny was drowned in the dells
they buried him ‘neath a scrub norway
you will never behold him again
no stone marks the spot where your raftsman
sleeps far from the little eau pleine.”
when the school*ma’am heard this information
she fainted and fell as if dead
i scooped up a hat*full of water
and poured it on top of her head
she opened her eyes and looked wildly
as if she was nearly insane
and i was afraid she would perish
on the banks of the little eau pleine

“my curses attend you, wisconsin!
may your rapids and falls cease to roar
may every tow*head and sand*bar
be as dry as a log schoolhouse floor
may the willows upon all of your islands
lie down like a field of ripe grain
for taking my jolly young raftsman
from the banks of the little eau pleine

“my curses light on you, ross gamble
for taking my johnny away
i hope that the ague will seize you
and shake you down into the clay
may your lumber go down to the bottom
and never rise to the surface again
you had no business taking john murphy
away from the little eau pleine

“now i will desert my vocation
i won’t teach district school any more
i will go to some place where i’ll never
hear the squeak of a fifty*foot oar
i will go to some far foreign country
to england, to france, or to spain;
but i’ll never forget johnny murphy
nor the banks of the little eau pleine.”

- judy cook

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