Roud 4746

I’ve traveled all over this country
Prospecting and digging for gold
I’ve tunneled, hydraulicked and cradled
And I have been frequently sold

And I have been frequently so-o-old
And I have been frequently sold
I’ve tunneled, hydraulicked and cradled
And I have been frequently sold!
(repeating the last two lines of the previous verse)

For one who gained riches by mining
Perceiving that hundreds grew poor
I made up my mind to try farming
The only pursuit that was sure

So, rolling my grub in my blanket
I left all my tools on the ground
And started one morning to shank it
For the country they call Puget Sound

Arriving flat broke in midwinter
I found the land shrouded in fog
And covered all over with timber
Thick as hairs on the back of a dog

I staked me a claim in the forest
And sat myself down to hard toil
For six years I chopped and I labored
But I never got down to the soil

I tried to get out of the country
But poverty forced me to stay
Until I became an old settler
Then nothing could drive me away

And now that I’m used to the climate
I think that if a man ever found
A place to live easy and happy,
That Eden is on Puget Sound

No longer the slave of ambition
I laugh at the world and its shams
As I think of my pleasant condition
Surrounded by acres of clams