Stories of Birds by Lenore Elizabeth Mulets
“When our babe he goeth walking in his garden
Around his tinkling feet the sunbeams play;
The posies they are good to him
And bow them as they should to him
As he fareth upon his kingly way:
The birdlings of the wood to him
Make music, gentle music, all-day
When our babe he goeth walking in his garden.”
—Eugene Field.
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