"Our Home Is On the Mountain's Brow" (1848)
Composed and Arranged by the Alleghanians

New York: Willaim Hall & Son
[Source: facsimile copy on pp. 328-331
from "Songs of Yesterday: A Song Anthology
of American Life" by Philip D. Jordan and
Lillian Kessler (Garden City, NY: Doubleday,
Doran & Co., Inc., 1941)]

1. Our home is on the mountain’s brow, 
Our hope is on the verdant plain, 
Our home is ’mid the forest shade, 
Where e’er we hear sweet music's strain. 
Tra la la la la la la. 
Tra la la la la la la. 
Tra la la la la la la. 
In city or in wooded dell, 
Where e’er we hear the strain;
In city or in wooded dell,
Where e’er we hear the strain.

[CHORUS sung after each verse]
Tra la la la la la la la la la la la la. 
Tra la la la la la la. 
Tra la la la. 
Tra la la la la la la. 
Tra la la la la la la. 
Tra la la la la la la la la la. 

2. We have no coffers fill’d with gold,
No mighty name to lead us on,
No lafty palace for our home,
Nothing but the voice of song.
Tra la la la la la la. 
Tra la la la la la la.
Tra la la la la la la. 
Music is all the wealth we own,
We ask no other gift;
Music is all the wealth we own,
We ask no other gift.

3. We do not boast of foreign birth,
We never roamed on, foreign strand.
But to each son and daughter here,
We proudly own Columbia’s land.
Tra la la la la la la. 
Tra la la la la la la. 
Tra la la la la la la. 
Then greet us with a charming smile,
To make our voice of song;
Then greet us with a charming smile,
To make our voice of song.


4. We have not learn’d our simple lay,
In famed Italy’s sunny land,
Where music rolls her softest strains
Where art in triumph waves her hand.
Tra la la la la la la. 
Tra la la la la la la. 
Tra la la la la la la. 
But on the air of liberty
First roll’d our tide of song;
But on the air of liberty
First roll’d our tide of song.