In a cavern, in a canyon, excavating for a mine
Dwelt a miner, forty-niner, and his daughter Clementine
chorus: Oh my darling, oh my darling
Oh my darling Clementine
You are lost and gone forever
Dreadful sorry, Clementine.
Light she was as any fairy, and her shoes were number nine,
Herring boxes without topses, sandals were for Clementine.
Drove she ducklings to the water one fine morning just at nine,
Hit her foot against a splinter, fell in to the foaming brine.
Rosy lips above the water blowing bubbles mighty fine,
But alas! I was no swimmer, so I lost my Clementine
The miner, forty-niner, soon began to peak and pine
Thought he ought to join his daughter, now he's with his Clementine.
In the churchyard, near the river, there a myrtle doth entwine,
With some roses and other posies, springing straight from Clementine.
In my dreams she still doth haunt me, robed in garlands soaked in brine,
Though in life I used to hug her, now she's dead, I draw the line.
How I missed her, how I missed her, how I missed my Clementine,
But I kissed her little sister, and forgot my Clementine.
