To My Friend Dan Selby, Buffalo, N.Y.
"I'm Going Home
to Clo" (1879)
Song & Chorus
Words by
S[amuel]. N. Mitchell [1847-1905]
Music by
William A. Huntley

[New York, NY?]: W. F. Shaw
[Sources: 1879-17686@LoC; 025/052@Levy]

1. In the old Carolina state,
Where the sweet Magnolia bloom,
And the Picnaninnie darkey learns to hoe,
There is one I long to see
She was always true to me,
But I left her many, many, years ago,
’Mid the In the old Carolina state,
Where the sweet Magnolia bloom,
And Picnaninnie darkey learns to hoe,
There is one I long to see
She was always true to me,
But I left her many, many, years ago,
’Mid the cotton and the corn,
There we both were bred and born,
And together in the field we used to sow,
But ’tis twenty years or more
Since I left the cabin door
So I’m going back to see my darling Clo.

CHORUS [sung after each VERSE]
Darling Clo,
Your sweet face I soon shall see I know,
Where the Southern sunny breeze
fans the old Palmetto trees,
I am going home to see my darling Clo.

2. In that dear old sunny home
Where the songsters always sing,
And the mocking bird is singing all the day,
She is waiting for her Joe
And I long to see my Clo,
For like me I know her hair is turned to gray,
The planIn that dear old sunny home
Where the songsters always sing,
And the mocking bird is singing all the day,
She is waiting for her Joe
And I long to see my Clo,
For like me I know her hair is turned to gray,
The plantation is no more
And the day of toil is o’er,
For she’s creeping very close to eightythree,
But she’ll wait till I come back
By the coon and possum track
For I have not seen her since we all were free.

3. ’Neath the genial Southern skies
Where the sweetest blossoms grow,
And the music loving darkies all are gay,
I am bound to see my Clo
And ’tis very sad to know,
That ere long they’ll lay my poor old love away,
When they ’Neath the genial Southern skies
Where the sweetest blossoms grow,
And the music loving darkies all are gay,
I am bound to see my Clo
And ’tis very sad to know,
That ere long they’ll lay my poor old love away,
When they place her ’neath the sod
Upon which we often trod,
Then this world will have no other charms for me,
Then close by my Cloie’s side,
This poor form will there abide
’Neath the shadeless and the tall Palmetto tree.