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Eugene Field - Mysterious doingsEugene Field - Mysterious doings
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As once I rambled in the woods  I chanced to spy amid the brake A huntsman ride his way beside  A fair and passing tranquil lake; Though velvet bucks sped here and there,  He let them scamper through the green— Not one smote he, but lustily  He blew his horn—what could it mean? As on I strolled beside that lake,  A pretty maid I chanced to see Fishing away for finny prey,  Yet not a single one caught she; All round her boat the fishes leapt  And gambolled to their hearts` content, Yet never a thing did the maid but sing—  I wonder what on earth it meant. As later yet I roamed my way,  A lovely steed neighed loud and long, And an empty boat sped all afloat  Where sang a fishermaid her song; All underneath the prudent shade,  Which yonder kindly willows threw, Together strayed a youth and maid—  I can`t explain it all, can you?
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