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O thy pour from distant lands;

Delight of the dickens,

You waddle in puddles;

To splash the soul of muddles

O thy pour from distant lands

You are the tender whispers ,

On the dew drenched leaves;

Of a lover in peace

O thy pour with cracker

Respite for the cropper;

And hopes to prosper,

Blooms every Harper

O thy pour in rambles,

Pitter patter on roof tops

Shades of grey overcast;

Music for the peacocks

O thy pour and refresh

Parched soul replenish,

Life is all to relish;

Do away with the blemish

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