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512

“COME TO THE HILLS”

Come to the hills, the woods are green—
The heart is high when lovers meet—
There is a brook that flows between
Mossed rocks where we will make our seat,
Where we will sit and speak unseen.
I hear you laughing in the lane—
The heart is high when lovers meet—
The clover smells of sun and rain
And spreads a carpet for our feet,
Where we will walk and dream again.
Come to the woods, the dusk is here—
The heart is high when lovers meet—
A bird upon the branches near
Sets music to our hearts' sweet beat,
Our hearts that beat with something dear.
I hear your step; the lane is passed—
The heart is high when lovers meet—
The little stars come bright and fast,
Like happy eyes that watch us, Sweet,
That see us greet and kiss at last.