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Young Night-Thought

All night long and every night,

When my mama puts out the light,

I see the people marching by,

As plain as day before my eye.

Armies and emperor and kings,

All carrying different kinds of things,

And marching in so grand a way,

You never saw the like by day.

So fine a show was never seen At the great circus on the green;

For every kind of beast and man Is marching in that caravan.

As first they move a little slow,

But still the faster on they go,

And still beside me close I keep Until we reach the town of Sleep.

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Robert Louis Stevenson

Robert Louis Stevenson (born Robert Lewis Balfour Stevenson; 13 November 1850 – 3 December 1894) was a Scottish novelist, poet and travel writer…

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Reading today

Мольба моя к тебе
Ароматное цветение сирени
Пальчик дорогой
Суррогатное псевдоматеринство
Зеркальное отражение
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