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Weekend 272.1

I know a land where the wild flowers grow,
Near, near at hand if by train you go,
Metro-land, Metro-land.
Meadows sweet have a golden glow.
Hills are green in the Vales below…
Leafy dell and woodland fair,
Land of love and hope and peace,
Land where all your troubles cease,
Metro-land, Metro-land,
Waft, O waft me there.

— George Robert Sims

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