| Down in the green hay
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| Where Monkey and Bear usually lay
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| They woke from a stable-boy's cry
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| Said, «Someone come quick
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| The horses got loose, got grass-sick
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| They’ll founder, Fain, they’ll die»
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| What is now known by the sorrel and the roan?
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| By the chestnut, and the bay, and the gelding grey?
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| It is, stay by the gate you are given
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| And remain in your place, for your season
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| And had the overfed dead but listened
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| To the high-fence, horse-sense, wisdom
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| «Did you hear that, Bear?»
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| Said Monkey, «We'll get out of here, fair and square
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| They left the gate open wide
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| So, my bride, here is my hand, where is your paw?
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| Try and understand my plan, Ursula
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| My heart is a furnace full of love that’s just, and earnest
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| Now, you know that we must unlearn this
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| Allegiance to a life of service
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| And no longer answer to that heartless
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| Hay-monger, nor be his accomplice
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| The charlatan, with artless hustling
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| But Ursula, we’ve got to eat something
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| And earn our keep, while still within
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| The borders of the land that man has girded
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| All double-bolted and tightfisted
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| Until we reach the open country
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| A-steeped in milk and honey
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| Will you keep your fancy clothes on, for me?
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| Can you bear a little longer to wear that leash?
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| My love, I swear by the air I breathe
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| Sooner or later, you’ll bare your teeth
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| But for now, just dance, darling
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| C’mon, will you dance, my darling?
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| Darling, there’s a place for us
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| Can we go, before I turn to dust?
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| Oh my darling there’s a place for us
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| Oh darling, c’mon will you dance, my darling?
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| The hills are groaning with excess
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| Like a table ceaselessly being set
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| My darling we will get there yet"
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| They trooped past the guards
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| Past the coops, and the fields, and the farmyards
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| All night, till finally
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| The space they gained grew
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| Much farther than the stone that bear threw
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| To mark where they’d stop for tea
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| But, «Walk a little faster, don’t look backwards
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| Your feast is to the East, which lies a little past the pasture
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| And the blackbirds hear tea whistling and rise and clap
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| Their applause caws the kettle black
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| And we can’t have none of that
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| Move along, Bear, there, there, that’s that»
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| Though cast in plaster
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| Our Ursula’s heart beat faster
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| Than Monkey’s ever will
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| But still, they have got to pay the bills
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| Hadn’t they? |
| That is what the monkey’d say
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| So, with the courage of a clown, or a cur
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| Or a kite, jerking tight at its tether
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| In her dun-brown gown of fur
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| And her jerkin of swansdown and leather
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| Bear would sway on her hindlegs
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| The organ would grind dregs of song for the pleasure
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| Of the children who’d shriek
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| Throwing coins at her feet then recoiling in terror
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| Sing, «Dance, darling
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| C’mon, will you dance, my darling?
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| Darling, there’s a place for us
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| Can we go, before I turn to dust?
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| Oh my darling there’s a place for us
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| Oh darling, c’mon, will you dance, my darling?
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| You keep your eyes fixed on the highest hill
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| Where you’ll ever-after eat your fill
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| Oh my darling, dear mine, if you dance
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| Dance darling and I’ll love you still"
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| Deep in the night shone a weak and miserly light where the monkey shouldered
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| his lamp
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| Someone had told him the bear’d been wandering a fair piece away from where
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| they were camped
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| Someone had told him the bear had been sneaking away to the seaside caverns,
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| to bathe
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| And the thought troubled the monkey for he was afraid of spelunking down in
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| those caves
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| Also afraid what the village people would say if they saw the bear in that state
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| Lolling and splashing obscenely well, it seemed irrational, really washing that
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| face
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| Washing that matted and flea-bit pelt in some sea-spit-shine, old kelp dripping
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| with brine
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| But Monkey just laughed, and he muttered, «When she comes back, Ursula will be
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| bursting with pride
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| Till I jump up saying, 'You've been rolling in muck,' saying, 'You smell of
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| garbage and grime'»
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| But far out, far out
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| By now, by now
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| Far out, by now, Bear ploughed
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| 'Cause she would not drown
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| First the outside-legs of the bear up and fell down, in the water,
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| like knobby garters
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| Then the outside-arms of the bear fell off, as easy as if sloughed from boiled
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| tomatoes
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| Lowered in a genteel curtsy, bear shed the mantle of her diluvian shoulders
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| And, with a sigh, she allowed the burden of belly to drop, like an apron full
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| of boulders
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| If you could hold up her threadbare coat to the light, where it’s worn
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| translucent in places
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| You’d see spots where, almost every night of the year, Bear had been mending,
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| suspending that baseness
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| Now her coat drags through the water, bagging, with a life’s-worth of hunger,
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| limitless minnows
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| In the magnetic embrace, balletic and glacial, of Bear’s insatiable shadow
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| Left there, left there
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| When Bear left bear
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| Left there, left there
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| When Bear stepped clear of Bear
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| Sooner or later, you’ll bare your teeth |