De little ole log cabin is standing down there still,
But my ole dog is sleeping by de creek dat turns de mill;
Ole Marsa says for-eber with him I shall remain,
And when I'm dead he'll lay me down among de sugar-cane.
Der let me rest, der let me rest, to nebber wake again,
Der'll be no care or trouble, down among de sugar-cane.
I'm growing old and weary, I feel it eb'ry day,
So bery weak and feeble, I cannot see my way,
De cole wind makes me tremble, my body's full of pain;
I'm passing to my resting, down among de sugar-cane.
De darkies in de moonlight, dey dance around de door,
Dey sing an' laugh so gaily, I'll nebber jine dem more,
I hear de banjo ringing, how sweet is dat refrain,
To him dat now is going, down among de sugar-cane.
Den gather round me, darkies, my eyes are growing dim,
Oh, sing again so sweetly, to me dat good ole hymn,
Dar's heaps of consolation for all our grief and pain;
I'm going to my resting, down among de sugar-cane.