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In a
cavern, in a canyon,
Excavating for a mine,
Lived a miner, forty-niner,
And his daughter Clementine
CHORUS:
Oh my darling, O my darling, O my
darling Clementine!
You are lost and gone forever, Dreadful
sorry, Clementine!
Light
she was and like a fairy,
And her shoes were number nine,
Herring boxes, without topses,
Sandals were for Clementine.
Drove
she ducklings to the water
Every morning just at nine,
Hit her foot against a splinter,
Fell into the foaming brine.
Rudy
lips above the water,
Blowing bubbles soft and fine;
Alas, for me! I was no swimmer,
So I lost my Clementine.
Then
the miner, forty-niner,
Soon began to peak and pine,
Thought he oughter line his daughter
Now he¡¦s with his Clementine.
In my
dream she oft doth haunt me,
With her garments soaked in brine,
Though in life I used to hug her,
Now she¡¦s dead I draw the line. |