| I wandered today to the hill, Maggie
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| To watch the scene below
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| The creek and the rusty old mill, Maggie
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| Where we sat in the long, long ago
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| The green grove is gone from the hill, Maggie
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| Where first the daisies sprung
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| The old rusty mill is still, Maggie
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| Since you and I were young
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| A city so silent and lone, Maggie
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| Where the young and the gay and the best
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| In polished white mansion of stone, Maggie
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| Have each found a place of rest
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| Is built where the birds used to play, Maggie
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| And join in the songs that were sung
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| For we sang just as gay as they, Maggie
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| When you and I were young
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| They say I am feeble with age, Maggie
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| My steps are less sprightly than then
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| My face is a well written page, Maggie
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| But time alone was the pen
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| They say we are aged and gray, Maggie
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| As spray by the white breakers flung
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| But to me you’re as fair as you were, Maggie
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| When you and I were young
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| And now we are aged and gray, Maggie
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| The trials of life nearly done
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| Let us sing of the days that are gone, Maggie
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| When you and I were young |