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A Moral Alphabet by  Hilaire Belloc





whose weapons of Defence

Are long, sharp, curling Horns, and Common-sense.

To these he adds a Name so short and strong,

That even Hardy Boers pronounce it wrong.


How often on a bright Autumnal day

The Pious people of Pretoria say,

"Come, let us hunt theó" Then no more is heard

But Sounds of Strong Men struggling with a word.

Meanwhile, the distant Gnu with grateful eyes

Observes his opportunity, and flies.


Child, if you have a rummy kind of name,

Remember to be thankful for the same.

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