DRIVING SAW LOGS ON THE PLOVER



There walked on Plover's shady banks

One evening last July

A mother of a shanty boy

And doleful was her cry

Saying, "God be with you, Johnny

Although you're far away

Driving saw logs on the Plover

And you'll never get your pay



"Oh Johnny, I gave you schooling

I gave you a trade likewise

You need not been a shanty boy

Had you taken my advice

You need not gone from your dear home

To the forest far away

Driving saw logs on the Plover

And you'll never get your pay

"Come all young men take warning

And listen to what I say

Driving saw logs on the Plover

And you'll never get your pay



"Oh Johnny, you were your father's hope

Your mother's only joy

Why is it that you ramble so

My own, my darling boy?

Oh what could induce you, Johnny

From your own dear home to stray

Driving saw logs on the Plover

And you'll never get your pay



"Why didn't you stay upon the farm

And feed the ducks and hens

And drive the pigs and sheep each night

And put them in their pens

For better for you to help your dad

To cut his corn and hay

Than drive saw logs on the Plover

And you'll never get your pay



"Come all young men take warning

And listen to what I say

Driving saw logs on the Plover

And you'll never get your pay"



A log canoe came floating

A down the quiet stream

As peacefully it glided

As in some young lover's dream

A youth stepped out upon the bank

And thus to her did say

"Dear mother, I have jumped the game

And I haven't got my pay"



@work @logging @family

recorded by Helen Schneyer on Folk Legacy's The Continuing

Tradition

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