I wandered today to the hill, Maggie,
To watch the scene below,
The creek and the creaking old mill, Maggie,
As we used to, long ago.
The green grove is gone from the hill, Maggie,
Where first the daisies sprung,
The creaking old mill is still, Maggie,
Since you and I were young.
They say I am feeble with age, Maggie,
My steps are less spritely than then,
My face is a well-written page, Maggie,
But time alone was the pen.
They say we are aged and grey, Maggie.
As sprays by the white breakers flung,
But to me you're as fair as you were, Maggie,
When you and I were young.
But now we are aged and grey, Maggie,
And the trials of life nearly done,
Let us sing of the days that are gone, Maggie,
When you and I were young.
Writer(s): George Washington Johnson, J. A. Butterfield
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