Bucolicon Americanon

I have still to collect the parallels between the ol' standard Sleepy Time Down South and the Bucolici Graeci.

Pale moon shining on the fields below,
Folks are crooning songs soft and low,
Needn't tell me so, because I know,
It's sleepy time down south.

Soft winds blowing through the pinewood trees,
Folks down there live a life of ease,
When the twilight brings the evening breeze,
It's sleepy time down south.

Steamboats on the river a-comin' and a-goin',
Splashing the night away,
Hear those banjos ringin', the folks are all a-singin',
They dance till break of day.

Dear old southland, with its dreamy songs
Takes me back there where I belong.
How I'd love to be in mother's arms
When it's sleepy time down south.