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The River | ||
| The river flows past field and farm With bends and eddies full of charm. Sometimes it's warm, sometimes it's cold. It's always fresh but also old. It keeps on flowing, come what may, Around the clock, throughout the day. The river sees in silent thought So many things we people ought To see but miss because we pass Our days and years with empty glass. May all God's children ever be A faithful, watchful river free. | ||
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