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As I was going o'er yon moor of moss,

HNR 1029

As I was going o'er yon moor of moss,
I met a man on a gray horse;
He whipped and he wailed,
I asked him what be ailed;
He said he was going to his father's funeral,
Who died seven years before he was born.


Bower Mother Goose

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Bower Mother Goose