A musical lesson about love
Teacher George Washington Johnson wrote a famous poem about the love of his life, Maggie Clark
In 1864, Binbrook school teacher George Washington Johnson (1839-1917) set out to write a poem about being madly in love with his fiancée, Maggie Clark, who was struggling with tuberculosis.
She was one of his pupils, but there was only a few years’ difference in age. She was 18, he was 21. In the midst of a difficult period with the disease, Johnson put his quill to paper while looking out at a local mill from his perch on a nearby hill. The poem was published in his book of poetry, called “Maple Leaves,” and set to music by American composer J.A. Butterfield in 1866.
The song “When You and I Were Young, Maggie” is known the world over and has been recorded hundreds of times. But what is often forgotten is that its lyrics were written in Binbrook.
The song became one of the most popular folk songs of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. In later years, it became a standard for jazz musicians such as Benny Goodman, Louis Armstrong, Red Nichols and Fats Waller. Canadian tenor John McDermott sings it as part of his repertoire and recorded the song in 2009.
When You And I Were Young, Maggie Lyrics by George Washington Johnson
I wandered today to the hill, Maggie, To watch the scene below;
The creek and the creaking old mill, Maggie,
As we used to, long ago.
The green grove is gone from the hill, Maggie,
Where first the daisies sprung;
The creaking old mill is still, Maggie,
Since you and I were young. Chorus:
And now we are aged and grey, Maggie, And the trials of life nearly done;
Let us sing of the days that are gone, Maggie,
When you and I were young.
A city so silent and lone, Maggie, Where the young and the gay and the best; In polished white mansion of stone, Maggie,
Have each found a place of rest,
Is built where the birds used to play, Maggie,
And join in the songs that were sung; For we sang as gay as they, Maggie, When you and I were young. Chorus
They say that I am feeble with age, Maggie,
My steps are less sprightly than then; My face is a well written page, Maggie And time all alone was the pen.
They say we are aged and grey, Maggie, As spray by the white breakers flung; But to me you’re as fair as you were, Maggie,
When you and I were young! Chorus