I’ve seen Jack and Jill upon that hill
When at night sleep would not come.
Seemed a trick of the eye since they both had died,
Yet a happy tune they did hum

From the top and down, they made their way into town
Hauling a pail of water.
They disappeared, and within me I feared
For the towns folk's sons and daughters.

And when I woke, I hardly spoke
Before hearing all that was said
Of how Little Boy Stew was now Little Boy Blue,
Drowned yet still in bed. 

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