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Willy and His Pipe. Rhymes and Jingles by Mary Mapes Dodge for children

Willy lay by the dimpling brook,
Where the sun had lain before;
And, strange to say, when its place he took,
The spot just brightened the more.

The birds were singing in the blue,
A song that was like a hymn;
While the baby ducklings, two by two,
Strayed into the water to swim.

"Heigho!" sighed Willy, "I cannot fly,
Nor even so much as float;
And as for singing like robins, why,
I never could raise a note.

"But I can play on my pipe," said he;
And soon the music came—
So clear and sweet, so blithesome free,
That it put the birds to shame.

The baby ducklings softly splashed,
The robins yet harder tried,
The sprinkled grass in sunlight flashed,
As it nodded by Willy's side.

And, before he knew, he was floating free
On a sparkling river of thought;
While the birds in the air came down to see
What wonder the pipe had wrought.

And still the music softly rose,
Still Willy was floating free;
And the little ducks with their funny toes,
Were happy as happy could be.

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