I tink of my Jula, an’ sing as I go;
Oh, I catch her a bird wid a wing ob true blue,
An’ at night sail her round in my Gum-tree canoe.
Singing row away, row, &c.
Wid my hands on de banjo, and toe on de oar,
I sing to de sound ob de riber’s soft roar,
While de stars dey look down on my Jula so true,
An’ dance in her eye in my Gum-tree canoe.
Singing row away, row, &c.
But one night de stream bore us so far away,