Eli, the barrow boy   Of the old town   Sells coal and marigolds   And he cries out   All down the day      Below the tamarack   He is crying:   “Corn cobs and candle wax for the buying”   All down the day      “Would I could afford to buy my love a fine robe   Made of gold and silk Arabian thread   But she is dead and gone and lying in a pine grove   And I must push my barrow all the day   And I must push my barrow all the day”      Eli, the barrow boy   When they found him   Dressed all in corduroy   He had drowned in   The river down the way      They laid his body down in a church yard   But still when the moon is out   With his push cart   He calls down the day      “Would I could afford to buy my love a fine gown   Made of gold and silk Arabian thread   But, I am dead and gone and lying in a church ground   Still I push my barrow all the day   Still I push my barrow all the day”