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One morning when the sky was fair,

And softly breathed the balmy air,

And little birds were on the wing,

And little lambs were frolicking,

And little boys, a cheerful throng,

Were tripping merrily along,

The school-house garden stands, and there,

With book in satchel, they repair,

The bell rings loud!—away, away!

No truant now may stop to play.

—But Edward was an idle lad,

He loved to play, and he was sad

To hear the bell ring loud—he sighed—

Just then a butterfly he spied,

All powdered o'er with gold, its form

Was bright as rainbow 'mid the storm:

From flower to flower it lightly flew,