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“To a Squirrel at Kyle-na-gno” by
W. B. Yeats
🇮🇪
(
13 Jun 1865
–
28 Jan 1939
)
Come play with me;
Why should you run
Through the shaking tree
As though I’d a gun
To strike you dead?
When all I would do
Is to scratch your head
And let you go.