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LILIES OF THE VALLEY.

O'er barren hills and flowery dales, O'er seas and distant shores, With merry songs and jocund tales, I've pass'd some pleasant hours, Tho' wandering thus, I ne'er could find A girl like blithesome Sally: Who picks and culls and cries aloud, “Sweet lilies of the valley."

From whistling o'er the harrowed turf, From nestling of each tree I chose a soldier's life to wed, So social gay and free. Yet tho the lasses love me well, And often try to rally, None pleases me like her who cries, “Sweet lilies of the valley."

I'm now return'd, of late discharg'd,      To see my native soil; From fighting in my country's cause, To plough my country's soil: