Kate Greenaway

* * *

Some geese went out a-walking,
	To breakfast and to dine;
They craned their necks, and plumed themselves  
	They numbered four from nine;
With their cackle, cackle, cackle!
	They thought themselves so fine.

A dame went walking by herself, 
	A very ancient crone;
She said, I wish that all you geese
	Were starved to skin and bone! 
Do stop that cackle, cackle, now,
	And leave me here alone.

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