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MOTHER GOOSE'S MELODIES 65 |
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THE north wind doth blow, And we shall have snow, And what will poor Eobin do then ?
Poor thing I
He'll sit in a barn, And to keep himself warm, Will hide his head under his wing.
Poor thing I |
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THE cat sat asleep by the side of the fire, The mistress snored loud as a pig:
Jack took up his fiddle by Jenny's desire, And struck up a bit of a jig. |
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