I took a reed and blew a tune, And sweet it was and very clear To be about a little thing That only few hold dear. Three times the cuckoo named himself, But nothing heard him on the hill, Where I was piping like an elf The air was very still. `Twas all about a little thing I made a mystery of sound, I found it in a fairy ring Upon a fairy mound.SourceThe script ran 0.003 seconds.
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