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| And the Fly-Away Horse seeks those far-away lands You little folk dream of at night-- Where candy-trees grow, and honey-brooks flow, And corn-fields with popcorn are white; And the beasts in the wood are ever so good To children who visit them there-- What glory astride of a lion to ride, Or to wrestle around with a bear! The monkeys, they say: "Come on, let us play," And they frisk in the coconut-trees: While the parrots, that cling To the peanut-vines, sing Or converse with comparative ease! |
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