The Infant's Delight: Poetry by Anonymous
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page 1 of 50 (02%)
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THE INFANT'S DELIGHT
[Illustration: THE MISTLETOE-SELLERS.] [Illustration: THE DEAD ROBIN.] [Illustration] BLIND MAN'S BUFF. When the win-ter winds are blow-ing, And we ga-ther glad and gay, Where the fire its light is throw-ing, For a mer-ry game at play, There is none that to my know-ing,-- And I've play-ed at games enough,-- Makes us laugh, and sets us glow-ing Like a game at Blind-man's Buff. THE DEAD ROBIN. All through the win-ter, long and cold, |
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