Round the world and home again, that's the sailor's way!
William AllinghamBy the craggy hill-side,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees
For pleasure here and there.
If any man so daring
As dig them up in spite,
He shall find their sharpest thorns
In his bed at night.
Tags: poetry
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
For fear of little men.
Tags: poetry
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