2 мин
The Brook
I looked in the brook and saw a face -Heigh-ho, but a child was I
There were rushes and willows in that place,
And they clutched at the brook as the brook ran by;
And the brook it ran its own sweet way,
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I looked in the brook and saw a face -Heigh-ho, but a child was I
There were rushes and willows in that place,
And they clutched at the brook as the brook ran by;
And the brook it ran its own sweet way,
I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley
By thirty hills I hurry down,