. By woodland and sea. H ! miller, how swift in its passing, The time twixt that Winter and this,How changed are the scenes once many the faces we miss. The crown which you joyed to hold accents so measured and clear, Asking for it our ready acceptance,Has been yours for many a year. As the seasons succeed one another,The years follow close in their train. And Im a light-hearted boy no a youth, with brawn and brain. 13 At the top of the hill I am the shores of the inner bay. And Im watching a boat that lies anchored,Painted white, with a streamer


. By woodland and sea. H ! miller, how swift in its passing, The time twixt that Winter and this,How changed are the scenes once many the faces we miss. The crown which you joyed to hold accents so measured and clear, Asking for it our ready acceptance,Has been yours for many a year. As the seasons succeed one another,The years follow close in their train. And Im a light-hearted boy no a youth, with brawn and brain. 13 At the top of the hill I am the shores of the inner bay. And Im watching a boat that lies anchored,Painted white, with a streamer


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookidbywoodlandse, bookyear1895