And the silvery moon is peeping through the trees
Shadows gently gather round the old plantation
While the bells are chiming softly on the breeze
Then in dreams I wandered back to home and mother
Where daisies turns the meadow green to white
And the mockingbirds will greet me in the morning
And at eve the whippoorwill bids me goodnight
Where she's sleeping now the whippoorwill is calling
O'er her grave the flowers are blooming fair and bright
Pearly dewdrops on the ivy leaves are falling
Where the whippoorwill is whisperin' goodnight
Round that door the same old ivy vine is clinging
Now sweet daisies in the meadow are in bloom
In the treetops I can hear those night-birds singing
But the old homestead is wrapped in silent gloom
By the fireside one familiar face is missing
That tender smile no longer greets my sight
In that quaint old-fashioned home tonight I'm listening
Where the whippoorwill is whispering goodnight