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Post by ARENA on Oct 9, 2020 12:37:38 GMT
The rosy clouds float overhead,
The sun is going down;
And now the sandman's gentle tread
Comes stealing through the town.
"White sand, white sand," he softly cries,
And as he shakes his hand,
Straightway there lies on babies' eyes
His gift of shining sand.
Blue eyes, grey eyes, black eyes, and brown,
As shuts the rose, they softly close, when he goes through the town.
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