O-ver the riv-er and through the woods,
To grand-fa-ther’s house we go;
The horse knows the way
To car-ry the sleigh,
Through the white and drift-ed snow-oh.

O-ver the riv-er and through the woods,
Oh how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes, and bites the nose,
As o-ver the ground we go.

O-ver the riv-er and through the woods,
To have a first-rate play;
Oh hear the bells ring,
“Ting-a-ling-ling!
“Hur-rah for Thanks-giv-ing Day.

O-ver the riv-er and through the woods,
Trot fast my dap-ple gray!
Spring o-ver the ground,
Like a hunt-ing hound!
For this is Thanks-giv-ing Day.

O-ver the riv-er and through the woods,
And straight through the barn-yard gate,
We seem to go ex-treme-ly slow.
It is so hard to wait!

O-ver the riv-er and through the woods,
Now grand-moth-er’s cap I spy!
Hur-rah for the fun!
Is the pud-ding done?
Hur-rah for the pump-kin pie!

O-ver the riv-er and through the woods,
To grand-fa-ther’s house we go;
The horse knows the way
To car-ry the sleigh,
Through the white and drift-ed snow-oh.

O-ver the riv-er and through the woods,
Oh how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes, and bites the nose,
As o-ver the ground we go.