Lazy sheep pray tell me why

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lazy sheep pray tell me why

Little Songs of Long Ago by Henriette Willebeek le Mair

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Published 04.06.2019

White sheep White sheep-A poem of class 4th

What the Children Sing - online songbook

Everything can something do, But what kind of use are you? Cold, and very cold, you'd be If you had not wool from me. True, it seems a pleasant thing, To nip the daisies in the spring; But many chilly nights I pass On the cold and dewy grass, Or pick a scanty dinner, where All the common's brown and bare. Then the farmer comes at last, When the merry spring is past, And cuts my woolly coat away, To warm you in the winter's day: Little master, this is why In the pleasant fields I lie. Forever we said Forever we said we could be together, us two How did I fall in love with you? Why was it hard for you to call me on my phone?

Everything can something do, But what kind of use are you? I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, And what can be the use of him is more than I can see. He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head; And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed. One morning, very early, before the sun was up, I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup; But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head, Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed. The friendly cow, all red and white, I love with all my heart: She gives me cream with all her might, To eat with apple tart.

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Post a Comment. The Sheep. Posted by Kids Corner India at December 12, Labels: Poem Corner. No comments:.

They called this poem "The Sheep". Lazy Sheep Poem Lazy sheep, pray tell me why In the pleasant field you lie, Eating grass and daisies white From the morning till the night? Every thing can something do, But what kind of use are you? Nay, my little master, nay, Do not serve me so, I pray; Don't you see the wool that grows On my back to make your clothes? Cold, and very cold, you'd be If you had not wool from me. True, it seems a pleasant thing, To nip the daisies in the spring; But many chilly nights I pass On the cold and dewy grass, Or pick a scanty dinner, where All the common's brown and bare.

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