Clementine (Lied)

In a cavern, in a canyon,
Excavating for a mine,
Dwelt a miner, forty-niner,
And his daughter Clementine.
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Light she was, and like a fairy,
And her shoes were number nine,
Herring boxes without topses,
Sandals were for Clementine.
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Walking lightly as a fairy,
Though her shoes were number nine,
Sometimes tripping, lightly skipping,
Lovely girl, my Clementine.
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Drove she ducklings to the water
Ev'ry morning just at nine,
Hit her foot against a splinter,
Fell into the foaming brine.
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Ruby lips above the water,
Blowing bubbles soft and fine,
But alas, I was no swimmer,
Neither was my Clementine.
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In a churchyard near the canyon,
Where the myrtle doth entwine,
There grow rosies and some posies,
Fertilized by Clementine.
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Then, the miner, forty-niner,
Soon began to fret and pine,
Thought he oughter join his daughter,
So he's now with Clementine.
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I'm so lonely, lost without her,
Wish I'd had a fishing line,
Which I might have cast about her,
Might have saved my Clementine.
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In my dreams she still doth haunt me,
Robed in garments soaked with brine,
Then she rises from the waters,
And I kiss my Clementine.
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Listen fellers, heed the warning
Of this tragic tale of mine,
Artificial respiration
Could have saved my Clementine.
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How I missed her, how I missed her,
How I missed my Clementine,
Til I kissed her little sister,
And forgot my Clementine.
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Oh my darling, oh my darling,
Oh my darling Clementine
You are lost and gone forever,
Dreadful sorry, Clementine.

In the centre of a golden valley,
Dwellt a maiden all divine,
A pretty creature a miner's daughter
And her name was Clementine.
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Her noble father was the forman
Of ev'ry valued mine,
And ev'ry miner and ranchman
Was a brother to Clementine.
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The foreman miner, an old forty niner,
In dreams and thoughts sublime,
Lived in comfort with his daughter,
His pretty child Clementine.
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When far away, he would often pray
That in his sunny clime
No harm might overtake her,
His favorite nugget, Clementine.
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When the day was done and the setting sun
Its rays they ceased to shine,
Homeward came the brawney miner
To caress his Clementine.
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None was nearer, none was dearer,
Since the days of forty-nine
When, in youth, he had another
Who was then his Clementine.
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She led her ducks down to the river,
The weather it was fine,
Stubbed her toe against a sliver,
Fell into the raging brine.
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He heard her calling: father,
Her voice was like a chime,
But alas he was no swimmer,
So he lost his Clementine.
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Oh my darling, oh my darling,
My darling Clementine,
You are lost for me forever,
Dreadful sorry, Clementine.