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The Old Huntsman The Speaker (5 march 1898, p. 398) There's a keen and grim old huntsman On a horse as white as snow; Sometimes he is very swift And sometimes he is slow. But he never is at fault, For he always hunts at view And he rides without a halt After you. The huntsman's name is Death, His horse's name is Time; He is coming, he is coming
An old Man dwells, a little man,--. 'Tis said he once was tall. For five-and-thirty years he lived. A running huntsman merry; And still the centre of his cheek. Is red as a ripe cherry. No man like him the horn could sound, And hill and valley rang with glee. When Echo bandied, round and round.
21 de ago. de 2022 · Old_pallet IA-NS-0001304 Page_number_confidence 84.38 Pages 130 Pdf_module_version 0.0.19 Ppi 360 Rcs_key 24143 Republisher_date 20220820152242 Republisher_operator associate-loriemae-randoy@archive.org Republisher_time 160
Há 4 dias · This old Man doing all he could. To unearth the root of an old tree, A stump of rotten wood. The mattock tottered in his hand; So vain was his endeavour, That at the root of the old tree. He might have worked for ever. “You're overtasked, good Simon Lee, Give me your tool,” to him I said;
An old Man dwells, a little man,—. 'Tis said he once was tall. For five—and—thirty years he lived. A running huntsman merry; And still the centre of his cheek. Is red as a ripe cherry. No man like him the horn could sound, And hill and valley rang with glee. When Echo bandied, round and round.
