| Thine eye doth shine
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| Thine light with mine combine, love
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| Thou art my valentine
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| Lips like apple wine
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| Face like calcimine — oh fine
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| My clinging vine
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| My voice for thee doth whine
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| You’re older then Old Lang Syne
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| (Twinkle, twinkle little star
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| How you wonder who I am
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| Way up in the sky so low
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| You’re a better man than I am, Old Black Joe)
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| (The polar bear sleeps in his little bear skin
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| He sleeps very well, I am told
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| Last night I slept in my little bare skin
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| And I got a heck of a cold!)
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| (B. O. — Rinso-White
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| B. O. — Rinso-White)
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| (Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold
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| Pease porridge in the pot nine days old — PU!)
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| (A bunch of the boys were whooping it up…) |