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As the blackbird in the spring, ´neath the willow tree,
sat and piped, I heard him sing in praise of Aura Lee.
Aura Lee, Aura Lee, maid with golden hair,
sunshine came along with thee,
´nd swallows in the air.
Aura Lee, the birds will flee the willow´s and the golden hair,
when the wintry winds are blowing everywhere.
Yet if then thy eyes I see, gloom will soon depart.
For to me, Aura Lee you´re sunshine in the heart.