by Stephen Collins Foster (1826 - 1864)

Sitting by my own cabin door
Language: English 
My time of life is waning fast 
Upon this troubled shore, 
But still I smile on days gone past, 
While I'm sitting by my own cabin door; 

The waves of trouble on the sea, 
The whirlwinds on the moor, 
Can bring no sorrow now to me, 
For I'm sitting by my own cabin door. 
Sitting by my own cabin door, 
Sitting by my own cabin door. 

Through varied scenes of care and strife, 
I've roam'd the wide world o'er, 
But now I calmly glide through life, 
While I'm sitting by my own cabin door, 

I feel as happy as a king, 
And free as the birds that soar, 
No wounds of battle round me ring, 
While I'm sitting by my own cabin door. 
Sitting by my own cabin door, 
Sitting by my own cabin door. 

I've had my hours of grief and mirth, 
And felt the tear drops pour, 
But nothing grieves me now on earth, 
For I'm sitting by my own cabin door. 

The blooming hopes of early days, 
May come to me no more, 
Yes memory sings me pleasant lays, 
While I'm sitting by my own cabin door. 
Sitting by my own cabin door, 
Sitting by my own cabin door.

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)


Researcher for this text: Laura Prichard [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2015-12-25
Line count: 30
Word count: 202