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Poem by Oliver Herford The Mon-Goos THIS, Children, is the famed Mon-goos. He has an ap-pe-tite ab-struse: Strange to re-late, this crea-ture takes A cu-ri-ous joy in eat-ing snakes— All kinds—though, it must be con-fessed, He likes the poi-son-ous ones the best. From him we learn how ve-ry small A thing can bring a-bout a Fall. O Mon-goos, where were you that day When Mistress Eve was led a-stray? If you’d but seen the ser-pent first, Our parents would not have been cursed, And so there would be no ex-cuse For MILTON, but for you—Mon-goos! Oliver Herford Oliver Herford's other poems: 1248 Views |
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