Over the river, and through the wood,To Grandfather’s house we go;the horse knows the way to carry the sleighthrough 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 noseas 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