Verse 1 In eighteen hundred thirty-three, from Kendall's colony, Cleng Peerson took to the trail, with boots and walking stick in hand. He left the Sloopers' fields behind, crossed swampy Chicago town, Where twenty huts stood in the mud, and half-breed offered eighty acres down. But "Too wet," said Cleng, with a shake of his head, Traded not his pipe nor his buckskin coat, Kept walking southwest 'til the tall grass rose, By the Fox and Illinois, where the prairie wind blows. Chorus Oh, Fox River, rolling free, Tall grass waving like the sea. From Norway's fjords to Illinois sod, We cleared the land for the dreams of God. Rattlesnakes, wolves, and the eagle's cry, Deer in the woods and the river nearby— We built our homes where the wild things roam, In the Fox River Settlement, we made it our home. Verse 2 The first families came in thirty-four, from New York they made the trek, Gudmund Hougas and Jacob Slogvig, Endre Dahl and the rest. They plowed the black earth, felled the timber tall, Built cabins 'gainst the winter's call. Kimball's mill on the dam gave hope for flour and bread, But when it burned in forty-two, they turned to the wild instead— Berries and nuts, fish from the river's flow, Prairie chicken, passenger pigeons in the sky aglow. Indians hunted the deer with skill, left the farming to the newcomers' will. Verse 3 Wolves howled at night for the sheep in the fold, Rattlesnakes no worse than the ones back home, Copperheads fiercer, bears in the wood, Buffalo herds on the distant plain understood. But Cleng had vision beyond the wild shore— The Illinois and Michigan Canal, he saw the future roar. Ninety-six miles of water and locks, mule teams on the towpath, Irish hands on the docks. From Chicago's swamp to LaSalle's gate, The canal brought the world—passengers, freight, and fate. Chorus Oh, Fox River, rolling free, Tall grass waving like the sea. From Norway's fjords to Illinois sod, We cleared the land for the dreams of God. Rattlesnakes, wolves, and the eagle's cry, Deer in the woods and the river nearby— We built our homes where the wild things roam, In the Fox River Settlement, we made it our home. Verse 4 In forty-two came a different call, missionary Dykes with the Mormon word, Eighty souls gathered in La Salle County, the first Norwegian branch was heard. Goodman Hougas, farmer, doctor, and elder true, Became branch president, preached the gospel new. Brigham Young visited in forty-four, they hosted with open hearts, Hougas founded Nordlyset, the Northern Light in forty-six, the first Norwegian press to spark. They bought the acres, planned a town and temple grand, But Smith's death in Carthage changed the lay of the land. Verse 5 Cholera came in forty-nine, swept through like a summer storm, The Ottawa papers told the tale, at "Norway" the sickness warmed. No new cases by August's end, but many souls were gone, Yet the hardy ones endured, the mother settlement lived on. From Fox River the wagons rolled west, seeding towns across the plain, A hardy people, tough as the sod, carrying Norway in their veins. Final Chorus (slower, reflective) Oh, Fox River, rolling free, Tall grass waving like the sea. From exploration to canal and trial, Through wildlife, faith, and the cholera's bile— We cleared the land for the dreams ahead, In the Fox River Settlement, the pioneers led. From the old world call to the new world's dawn, The Norwegian spirit marches on.