The creek and the creaking old mill,
Maggie, as we used to long, long ago.
The green grove is gone from the hill,
Maggie, where first the daisies sprung.
The creaking old mill is still,
Since you and I were young.
And now we are angel and brave,
The trials of life are nearly done.
Let us sing of the days that are gone,
Maggie, when you and I were young.
A city so silent and low,
Maggie, where the young and the gay
and the best, in polished
White mansions of stone, Maggie,
Have each found a place of rest.
It's built where the birds
And join in the songs that were sung.
For we sang as big as they
When you and I were young.
And now we are aged and brave,
The trials of life are nearly gone.
Let us sing of the days that are gone,
Maggie, when you and I were young.