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Poem by Anonymous


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As they fished his old plane from the sea 
The inventor just chortled with glee.
	“I shall build,” and he laughed,
	“A submarine craft, 
And perhaps it will fly. We shall see.”



Anonymous


Anonymous's other poems:
  1. Gathering of Atholl
  2. Lord Strafford’s Meditations in the Tower
  3. The Bells of Fletching
  4. The Old Scottish Gentleman
  5. Barthram’s Dirge


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