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NAthlesse the
cruell boy not so content,
would needs the fly
pursue:
And in his hand with heedlesse hardiment,
him caught for to subdue.
But when on it he
hasty hand did lay,
the Bee him stung therefore:
Now out alasse (he cryde) and welaway,
I wounded am
full sore:
The fly that I so much did scorne,
hath hurt me with his little horne.
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