As from the house your mother sees
You playing round the garden trees
So you may ser, if you will look
Through the windows of this book
Another child. far, far one
And in another gordplay
But do not think you con toll
By knocking on the window, coll
That child to hear you. Here
Is all on his play button bent
He does not hear, he will not look,
Nor yet be lured out of this book
For, long ago, the truth to say
He has grown up and gone onay
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there
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what is this I don't understand what are you saying
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