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There's a Little Owl
Sitting on his dry stone wall
There are roe deer grazing
By the wood,
Daffodils are stretching
Nearly touch the absent sun
And the east wind is flowing
Like a flood
The Curlew calls
From the deep of the hill
Where the skylark is singing fair
And I summon up a spirit
From the dream of a leap
Emerging from the mountain
In the shape of a hare

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