1.
When the moon is brightly beeming,
And the stars begin to peep,
And the gentle breeze of summer
Rocks the roses all to sleep;
Then I love to hear the music
Of the gentle running rill,
As it dances through the meadow
Near the cabin on the hill.

CHORUS
Oh, I loved it in my childhood,
And I fondly love it still,
And the only home I cherish
Is the cabin on the hill.

2.
I can see the red gate swinging
On the hinges to and fro,
As it did when I swung on it,
Many many years ago;
I can hear the cowbells ringing,
And the clatter of the mill,
And I feel my homes' a palace
In the cabin on the hill.

(CHORUS)

3.
I can see the blue smoke curling
From the chimney built of clay,
And the air is richly freighted
With the smell of newmown hay;
And I often think that nature,
All her mission did fulfill,
When she made the fields and flowers
'Round the cabin on the hill.

(CHORUS)

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