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A Tragic Tale of Tea The Beetle was blind, and the Bat was blinder, And they went to take tea with the Scissors-grinder. The Scissors-grinder had gone away Across the ocean to spend the day; But he'd tied his bell to the grapevine swing. The Bat and the Beetle heard it ring, And neither the Beetle nor Bat could see Why no one offered them any tea. So, polite and patient, they're waiting yet For the cup of tea they expect to get. Carolyn Wells's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1186 |
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