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The Voice of the Gruss. 
Anonymous. 
if ERE I come creeping, creeping every where; 
By the dusty roadside, 
On the sunny hillside, 
Close by the noisy brook, 
In every shady nook, 
I come creeping, creeping every where. 
All around the open door, 
Where sit the aged poor, 
Here where the children play, 
In the bright and merry May, 
[ come creeping, creeping every where. 
In the noisy city street, 
My pleasant face you'll meet, 
Cheering the sick at heart, 
Toiling his busy part, 
Silently creeping, creeping every where. 




