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Yet Gentle Will the Griffin Be
What Grandpa Told the Children
The Moon? It is a griffin's egg,
Hatching tomorrow night;
And how the little boys will watch
With shouting and delight
To see him break the shell and stretch
And creep across the sky.
The boys will laugh, the little girls,
I fear, may hide and cry.
The Moon is a Mirror
Yet gentle will the griffin be,
Most decorous and fat;
And walk up to the milky way
And lap it like a cat.