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I OFT GO OUT AT NIGHT-TIME
I oft go out at night-time When all the sky's a-flare
And little lights of battle Are dancing in the air.
I use my pick and shovel
To dig a little hole, And there I sit till morning—
A listening-patrol.
A silly little sickle
Of moon is hung above ;
Within a pond beside me
The frogs are making love : 41 |
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