Classic Poem

Shade o' the vine,
Deep o' the vale,
Thick of the leaf,
the bright bird flies
singing, the orioles
gather on swamp tree boles.

Shade of the vine,
Deep o' the vale,
Dark o' the leaf
here 'neath our toil
to cut and boil
stem into cloth, thick or fine
No man shall wear out mine

Tell my nurse to say I'll come,
Here's the wash and here's the rinse,
Here's the cloth I've worn out since,
Father an' mother, I'm comin' home.