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We have come from the mountains, we have come from the mountains We have come from the mountains of the Old Granite State. We're a band of brothers, we're a band of brothers We're a band of brothers and we live among the hills With a band of music, with a band of music With a band of music we are passing 'round the world. We have left our aged parents, we have left our aged parents We have left our aged parents in the Old Granite State. We obtained their blessing, we obtained their blessing We obtained their blessing and we bless them in return. Good old fashioned singers, good old fashioned singers Good old fashioned singers they can make the air resound. We have eight other brothers, and of sisters, just another Besides our Father and our Mother, in the Old Granite State. With our present number, with our present number With our present number there are fifteen in the tribe. Thirteen sons and daughters, thirteen sons and daughters Thirteen sons and daughters and their history we bring. Yes and while the air is ringing with their wild mountain singing We the news to you are bringing from the Old Granite State. 'Tis the Tribe of Jesse, 'Tis the Tribe of Jesse 'Tis the Tribe of Jesse and their several names we sing. David, Noah, Andrew, Zephy, Caleb, Joshua, Jess, and Beny, Judson, Rhoda, John and Asa, and Abby are our names. We're the Sons of Mary of the Tribe of Jesse And we now address ye with our native mountain song. We are all real Yankees, we are all real Yankees We are all real Yankees from the Old Granite State. And by prudent guessing, and by prudent guessing, And by prudent guessing we shall whittle through the world. Though we're neither politicians, lawyers, parsons, or physicians Yet define we our positions in the old world and the new Liberty is our motto, liberty is our motto Liberty is our motto in the Old Granite State. We despise oppression, we despise oppression We despise oppression and we cannot be enslaved. Yes we're friends of emancipation and we'll sing the proclamation 'Til it echoes through our nation from the Old Granite State That the Tribe of Jesse, that the Tribe of Jesse That the Tribe of Jesse are the friends of equal rights. We are all Washingtonians, yes we're all Washingtonians Heaven bless the Washingtonians of the Old Granite State. We are all teetotalers, we are all teetotalers We are all teetotalers and have signed the temperance pledge. Now three cheers altogether should Columbia's people ever Yankee hearts none can sever in the Old Sister States. Like our sires before us we will swell the chorus 'Til the Heavens o'er us shall rebound the loud huzzah! Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! |
Other verses and fragments:
Men should love one another, not let hatred smother, |
Hutchinson Family (Singers). "The Old Granite State: The Celebrated Song of the Hutchinson Family." [Tune: "The Old Church Yard."] [Lyrics: Jesse Hutchinson, Jr.] First line: "We have come from the mountains, We have come from the mountains, We have come from the mountains of the Old Granite State." Boston: Oliver Ditson. 1843.
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