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Ask you still where Lucy hides?
I will tell you by-and-by;
Look you where the river glides
In whose depths the shadows lie
Mingled, of the earth and sky.
I will tell you by-and-by;
Look you where the river glides
In whose depths the shadows lie
Mingled, of the earth and sky.
Lucy always loved that spot;
There her favorite flowers grew—
Violet, forget-me-not,
Iris, with its gold and blue,
Bending under beads of dew.
There her favorite flowers grew—
Violet, forget-me-not,
Iris, with its gold and blue,
Bending under beads of dew.
Oft on the old rustic bridge
Framed of supple boughs entwined,
Hanging from each margin s ridge,
Swinging softly in the wind,
Lucy carelessly reclined.
Framed of supple boughs entwined,
Hanging from each margin s ridge,
Swinging softly in the wind,
Lucy carelessly reclined.
Once she told me, while her eyes
Filled with tears of childish bliss,
That she could see Paradise
From her rocking resting-place,
Mirrored in the river's face:
Filled with tears of childish bliss,
That she could see Paradise
From her rocking resting-place,
Mirrored in the river's face:
That she saw the tall trees wave,
Bright-winged birds among the bowers,
And a river that did lave
Banks o'ergrown with wondrous flowers,
And a sky more fair than ours.
Bright-winged birds among the bowers,
And a river that did lave
Banks o'ergrown with wondrous flowers,
And a sky more fair than ours.
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