What the Miner in the Desert Said
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The moon's a brazen water-keg, A wondrous water-feast. If I could climb the sands and drink And give drink to my beast, If I could drain that keg, the flies Would not be biting so, My burning feet be spry again, My mule no longer slow, And I could rise and dig for ore And reach my fatherland, And not be food for ants and hawks, And perish in the sand.
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