Gluck! gluck! From under a log,
Squatting and leaping, comes Flucky the Frog.
Wide is his mouth, and spreading his toes;
Very elastic and shiny his clothes;
Though lofty his jumpings and brazen his stare,
He sees not the Hummer that flits in the air.
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A lad of Nansook
A balsam-pod took,
And he pressed the ends with a will;
The sudden report
Was capital sport,
And the seeds they are flying still.
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Oh, I'd search the world over
For one four-leaved clover!
Bend low, pretty grass, bend low!
Jump, little crickets! and tumble, you bees!
Green little grasshoppers, limber your knees!
There's one hidden somewhere, I know.
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