I wander today to the hill, Maggie, to watch the scene below 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 That creaking old mill is still, Maggie, since you and I were young Oh they say that m feeble with age, Maggie, my steps are my slower that then My face is a well written page, Maggie, and time all alone was the pen They say we have our different time, Maggie, as they hear our songs that we sung But to me you're as fair as you were, Maggie, when you and I were young When you and I were young