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Serine Sheep-poem

With their heads high, Their tails low, Eating fresh grass, Row by row;

Occasional bleats and baas, To be heard, Their stretch of field, Seems quite far, The little lamb calls out maa...

Frolicking and skipping, playing leap frog, Their wool needs clipping, So the farmer calls, For his dog.

Now in the barn, Sleeping in peace, They've had their supper, they've had their feast.

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