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fox one day did spy, Fa la la, fa la la la la, Some nice ripe grapes that hung fall high, Fa la la, fa la la la, la; And as they hung they seem'd to say, To him who underneath did stay, If you can reach me down you may, Fa la la, fa la la la la.

The fox he jump'd and jump'd again, Fa la la, fa la la la la. And tried to reach them but in vain, Fa la la, fa la la la la; He smack'd his lips for near an hour, But found the prize beyond his power, And then he said, The grapes are sour! Fa la la, fa la la la la.

 

to the early wayfarer The song amid the sky, Where twinkling in the dewy light, The sky-lark soars on high; And cheering to the wayfarer The gales that o'er him play, When faint and heavily he drags Along his noon-tide way.

And when beneath the unclouded sky Full wearily toils he, The flowing water makes to him A soothing melody. 