Oh Mary was a maiden, when the birds began to sing.
She was sweeter than the blooming rose, so early in the spring.
Her thoughts were gay and happy and the morning gay and fine,
For her lover was a river boy on the River in the Pines.
Now, Johnny, he got married to his Mary in the spring,
When the trees were budding early and the birds began to sing.
"But early in the autumn, when the fruit is on the vine,
I'll return to you, my darling, and the River in the Pines."
'Twas early in the morning, in Wisconsin's dreary clime,
When he rode the fatal rapids for the last and fatal time.
They found his body lying on the rocky shore below,
Where the silent water ripples and the whispering cedars grow.
Now every raft of lumber that comes down the Chippeway,
There's a lonely grave that's visited by drivers on their way.
They plant wildflowers upon it in the morning fair and fine.
This the grave of two young lovers on the River in the Pines.