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As we sail through life towards death, Bound unto the same port--heaven,-- Friend, what years could us divide? - Thirty Years--A Christmas Blessing [Friends] Those Rooks, dear, from morning till night, They seem to do nothing but quarrel and fight, And wrangle and jangle, and plunder. - Thirty Years--The Blackbird and the Rooks [Rooks] Young Dandelion On a hedge-side Said young Dandelion Who'll be my bride? Said young Dandelion With a sweet air, I have my eye on Miss Daisy fair. - Young Dandelion [Dandelions] Displaying page 3 of 3 for this author: << Prev 1 2 [3]
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