SOMETIME in my day dreaming Thru’ my half-lidded eyes,
I’m seeing old Virginia
And Old Virginia skies.
The narrow, crooked roadway,
The path by which we came,
And then I see the river,
Bluestone river, in the rain.
Then there’s the drooping willows
Swaying, swirling, side by side.
And the hollyhocks keep nodding
To each other in the tide.
And the mists we love o’ mornings

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