WHEN YOU AND I WERE YOUNG MAGGIE
Music by J.A. Butterfield. Words by Geo.
W. Johnson. 1910
I wandered today to the hill, Maggie,
To watch the scene below,
The creek and the creaking old mill, Maggie,
Where we sat long, long ago.
The green grass is gone from the hill, Maggie,
Where once the daisies sprung.
The Creaking old mill now is still, Maggie, Since you and I were young.
And now we are aged and gray, Maggie;
The trials of life nearly done.
Let us sing of the days that are gone, Maggie,
When you and I were young.
A city, so silent and lone, Maggie,
Where the young and the gay and the blest,
In polished, white mansions of stone, Maggie,
Have each found a place of rest,
Is built where the birds used to play, Maggie,
And join in the songs that were sung;
And we sang as gaily as they, Maggie,
When you and I were young.
And now we are aged . . .
And now I am feeble with age, Maggie,
My step less sprightly than then,
My face is a well-written page, Maggie,
And time, alone, was the pen.
And they say we are age and gray, Maggie,
As spray by the white breakers flung;
But, to me, you're as fair as you were, Maggie,
When you and I were young.
And now we are aged . . .
Yes, now we are aged and gray, Maggie,
The trials of life nearly done;
But, to me, you're as fair as you were, Maggie,
When you and I were young.