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,
to Grandfather's house away!
We would not stop for doll or top,
for 'tis Thanksgiving Day.

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—
and straight through the barnyard gate,
We seem to go extremely slow,
it is so hard to wait!

Over the river, and through the wood—
When Grandmother sees us come,
She will say, "O, dear, the children are here,
bring a pie for everyone."

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!

“The New-England Boy's Song about Thanksgiving Day” (1844), by Lydia Maria Child (1802-1880), writer, social reformer and human-rights promoter. She grew up in Medford, Mass., and the house referred to the grand one above, which had been souped up from the simpler structure she knew as a child. It’s now owned by Tufts University. The “river” is the Mystic River. Winter weather came earlier then.