Lyrics
Down by the old mill stream
where I first met you,
With your eyes of blue,
dressed in gingham, too.
It was there I knew that you
loved me true.
You were sixteen,
my village queen,
Down by the old mill stream.
Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. Ralph Waldo Emerson
What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.
Oliver Wendell Holmes
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