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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