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The
fisherman's swapping a yarn for a yarn
Under the hand
of the village barber,
And her in the angle of house
and barn
His deep-sea dory has found a harbor.
At anchor she rides the sunny sod
As full to the
gunnel of flowers growing
As ever she turned her home
with cod
From George's bank when winds were blowing.
And I judge from that elysian freight
That all
they ask is rougher weather,
And dory and master will
sail by fate
To seek the Happy Isles together.
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