Shadow cloak swift as a swallow,
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Pantaloon down in the hollow,
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Dancing, his voice like a cloud
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In the death of my night.
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Awful eyes, black Persian beggar,
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Harlequinesque, hair plaited heather,
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Stepping so lightly,
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A sprite in the house of my sight.
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Oh m'dear, travelling Tragition,
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It's sky clear, you're a gift from the fair folk.
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-----------------
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The Travelling Tragition
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| T Rex |
