Henry Randall Waite

“ There grow roses, and other posies,
Fertilized by Clementine.
6 Then the miner, forty-niner,
Soon began to peak and pine,
Thought he "oughter jine" his daughter,
Now he's with his Clementine.
7 In my dreams she still doth haunt me,
Robed in garments soaked in brine;
Though in life I used to hug her,
Now she's dead, I'll draw the line.
Chorus.
Oh my darling, (Oh Clementine,) Oh my darling, (Oh Clementine,)
Oh my darling Clementine, (Clem-Clementine,)
You are lost (Oh Clementine,) and gone forever, (Oh Clementine,)
Dreadful sorry, Clementine. (Clem-Clementine.) ”