A Boy, Once More

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A Boy, Once More

At a lake or pond, 
A lovely scene, 
I should like to be a boy, 
Turned fifteen. 

A boy, Once More, 
Young arm a rifle,
Worries and cares
Not even a trifle. 

Flat missiles at hand,
Smooth to the touch, 
Mined from the land,
Stones and such.
And play,
Once More,
For old time sakes, 
Oh, Once More,

Whatever it takes,
To play,
Once More, 
At Ducks and Drakes.