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Hark, hark, . The dogs do bark, Beggars are coming to town;
Some in jags,
Some in rags, And some in velvet gowns. |
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I iiad a little pony,
His name was Dapple-Gray, I lent him to a lady,
To ride a mile away; She whipped him, she slashed him,
She rode him through the mire} I would not lend my pony now
For all tho lady's hire. |
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