Do you mind the cabin of logs, Ben Bolt, That stood in the pathless wood? And the button-ball tree with its motley boughs, That nigh by the door-step stood? The cabin to ruin has gone, Ben Bolt, You would look for the tree in vain; And where once the lords of the forest stood, Grows grass and the golden grain. And don’t you remember the school, Ben Bolt, And the master, so cruel and grim? And the shady nook in the running brook, Where the children went to swim? Grass grows on the master’s grave, Ben Bolt-- The spring of the brook is dry; And of all the boys who were school-mates then There are only you and I! There’s a change in the things I love, Ben Bolt? They have changed from the old to the new; But I feel in the core of my spirit the truth, There never was a change in you. Twelvemonths twenty have pass’d, Ben Bolt, Since first we were friends, yet I hail Thy presence a blessing, thy friendship a truth, Ben Bolt of the salt-sea gale! Poor Juney. 26 Copied by permission of RUSSELL & TOLMAN, 291 Washington St., Boston, owners of the copyright. Pearl River’s side is far away, in Mississippi State, Where our Old Cabin stands alone, with Juney at the gate; I told her I was going away, but would not stay out late, And so she thought I’d soon be home, and waited at the gate. CHORUS The Cabin stands upon the stream in Mississippi State, And I must quickly hurry home and take her from the gate. Old Massa died, and I was sold away to Georgia’s State, They did not buy my sister Jane when they bought me her mate, I could not tell her we must part, alas! our cruel fate, And so, with weeping eyes, she stands to meet me at the gate. The Cabin stands upon the stream, &c. I can’t forget her gloomy look, when I bid her good-night, Nor how my body quaked and shook as slow I left her sight; But soon I’ll gold and silver get, pray Heaven I’m not too late, To buy my darling Juney free and take her from the gate. The Cabin stands upon the stream, &c. Oh, Juney was a simple child, with pretty shining curls, And white folks loved her best of all, the young Mulatto girl, ’Twas wrong for me to leave her ’lone, in Mississippi State, But money it shall break the chain that binds her to the gate. The Cabin stands upon the stream, &c.