Over the river, and through the wood, To grandfather's house we go; The horse knows the way To carry the sleigh Through the white and drifted snow. Over the river, and through the wood— Oh, how the wind does blow! It stings the toes And bites the nose As over the ground we go. Over the river, and through the wood, To have a first-rate play. Hear the bells ring "Ting-a-ling-ding", Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day! Over the river, and through the wood Trot fast, my dapple-gray! Spring over the ground, Like a hunting-hound! For this is Thanksgiving Day. Over the river, and through the wood, And straight through the barn-yard gate. We seem to go Extremely slow,— It is so hard to wait! Over the river and through the wood— Now grandmother's cap I spy! Hurrah for the fun! Is the pudding done? Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie!
This poem is in the public domain.