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Whatever Brawls Disturb the Street Once there was a little boy, With curly hair and pleasant eye— A boy who always told the truth, And never, never told a lie. And when he trotted off to school, The children all about would cry, 'There goes the curly-headed boy— The boy that never tells a lie.' And everybody loved him so, Because he always told the truth, That every day, as he grew up, 'Twas said, 'There goes the honest youth.' And when the people that stood near Would turn to ask the reason why, The answer would be always this: 'Because he never tells a lie.' Isaac Watts's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1855 |
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