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
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 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
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 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
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 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
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 In the pines
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 In the pines