  My Spotty Cow, my Spotty Cow, I love you very dearly! You are, I think, the fairest beast In all the wide world, nearly! My Kitty-cat is also sweet, But then, she has no spots: While you, my pleasant Spotty Cow, Have lots and lots and LOTS! The King of Spain he may be grand, The Queen of England, too. They cannot have my Spotty Cow, But if they both should bring to me Their gold and gems and silk, I might—perhaps I might—give them A very—little—milk! |
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