O, the little, green worm.
Why, o, why do you squirm
And wriggle all about?
Beneath the wild flower,
'Tis no April shower
Raining down the tin spout.
Is it the olde robin
When he goes a' bobbin'?
Just listen to him shout!
O, the little, green worm.
Don't you scamper and squirm,
And don't you nary pout.
A sweet song, hear him sing,
Telling...
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