Famous Children Poems - Page 2

21 - 40 of 62 Poems

  1. 21. Underface

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    Children, teenagers, and adults as well, can all identify with the message of this poem for children from Shel Silverstein published in his book, "Every Thing On It." Sometimes we all feel like no one really truly knows us, as if we are wearing a mask and our true self is hidden from all underneath our face.

    Underneath my outside face
    There's a face that none can see.
    A little less smiley,
    A little less sure,
    But a whole lot more like me

    Underface By Shel Silverstein

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    What a perfect poem! At times we could basically tell how people were feeling despite their facial expressions. It was in their eyes the tell- tale signs that led us to see at least the...

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  3. 22. The Fisherman

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    Abbie Farwell Brown was an American author who lived from 1871-1927. She lived in the same house her entire life, experiencing many traditions in her New England community. Brown describes the life of a fisherman in this poem, showing how one's profession becomes such a large part of a person's life. The Rhyme Scheme is ABCB.

    The fisherman goes out at dawn
    When every one's abed,
    And from the bottom of the sea
    Draws up his daily bread.

    His life is strange ; half on the shore
    And half upon the sea --
    Not quite a fish, and yet not quite
    The same as you and me.

    The fisherman has curious eyes ;
    They make you feel so queer,
    As if they had seen many things
    Of wonder and of fear.

    They're like the sea on foggy days, --
    Not gray, nor yet quite blue ;
    They 're like the wondrous tales he tells
    Not quite -- yet maybe -- true.

    He knows so much of boats and tides,
    Of winds and clouds and sky !
    But when I tell of city things,
    He sniffs and shuts one eye !

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    The way the poet described the life of a fisherman, his continuous effort and sacrifice to stand independent, and the powerful simile used, makes the poem a classic one.

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  5. 23. I'd Love To Be A Fairy's Child

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    Robert Graves was an English poet who lived from 1895-1985. He became known as a war poet, and he published three books of poetry while on active duty during World War I. This poem was published the same year the war ended, and it can be felt that Robert Graves was writing about his desire for children to face an easier life, one that’s not filled with so much pain, suffering, and unmet needs.

    Children born of fairy stock
    Never need for shirt or frock,
    Never want for food or fire,
    Always get their heart's desire:
    Jingle pockets full of gold,
    Marry when they're seven years old.
    Every fairy child may keep
    Two strong ponies and ten sheep;
    All have houses, each his own,
    Built of brick or granite stone;
    They live on cherries, they run wild--
    I'd love to be a Fairy's child.

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    Very nice poem. It deals with the aspirations of children. Childhood is the stage of innocence, and the present poem describes the same. It's lyrical, rhythmic and rhymed.

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  6. 24. Story Telling

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    Children love to be told bedtime stories. The more the storyteller acts out, the more captivating the tale. This is an enjoyable poem about a father telling his children stories before bed. While the mother doesn’t fully understand why he makes such a scene, the children can’t get enough of their father’s made-up stories.

    Most every night when they're in bed,
    And both their little prayers have said,
    They shout for me to come upstairs
    And tell them tales of gypsies bold,
    And eagles with the claws that hold
    A baby's weight, and fairy sprites
    That roam the woods on starry nights.

    And I must illustrate these tales,
    Must imitate the northern gales
    That toss the native man's canoe,
    And show the way he paddles, too.
    If in the story comes a bear,
    I have to pause and sniff the air
    And show the way he climbs the trees
    To steal the honey from the bees.

    And then I buzz like angry bees
    And sting him on his nose and knees
    And howl in pain, till mother cries:
    "That pair will never shut their eyes,
    While all that noise up there you make;
    You're simply keeping them awake."
    And then they whisper: "Just one more,"
    And once again I'm forced to roar.

    New stories every night they ask.
    And that is not an easy task;
    I have to be so many things,
    The frog that croaks, the lark that sings,
    The cunning fox, the frightened hen;
    But just last night they stumped me, when
    They wanted me to twist and squirm
    And imitate an angle worm.

    At last they tumble off to sleep,
    And softly from their room I creep
    And brush and comb the shock of hair
    I tossed about to be a bear.
    Then mother says: "Well, I should say
    You're just as much a child as they."
    But you can bet I'll not resign
    That story telling job of mine.

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    Grandpa sat with cigar at his side (rarely in his mouth), his bushy gray eyebrows and mustache crouched in intense concentration, a chess piece or book in hand in most of my memories. But...

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  7. 25. The Swing

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    Swinging provides an entirely new perspective of the world around you. It is a freeing activity that makes you feel like you’re flying. You feel as though you’re on top of the world, and it’s a staple of the childhood experience.

    How do you like to go up in a swing,
    Up in the air so blue?
    Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
    Ever a child can do!

    Up in the air and over the wall,
    Till I can see so wide,
    River and trees and cattle and all
    Over the countryside--

    Till I look down on the garden green,
    Down on the roof so brown--
    Up in the air I go flying again,
    Up in the air and down!

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    The poem is really relaxing. I smiled as I read; it's just like riding a swing. Simple things like this make life beautiful. And the garden green, the roof so brown, the air so blue.... it's...

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  8. 26. My Shadow

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    A child tries to understand the concept of his shadow. He finds it to be a silly companion who doesn’t seem to understand how it ought to act.

    I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
    And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
    He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
    And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
    The funniest things about him is the way he likes to grow-
    Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
    For he sometimes shoots up taller like an India rubber ball,
    And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.
    He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,
    And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
    He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see;
    I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
    One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
    I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
    But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
    Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

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  9. 27. Rathers

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    Mary Austin was an American writer who lived from 1868-1934. Many of her writing pieces have a natural element, and she was strongly involved in movements to preserve Native American arts and culture. In this poem, Austin shares about animals she would choose to be if she didn't have to be herself, and she gives descriptions of them that are presented in a sing-song tone.

    I know very well what I'd rather be
    If I didn't always have to be me!
    I'd rather be an owl,
    A downy feathered owl,
    A wink-ity, blink-ity, yellow-eyed owl
    In a hole in a hollow tree.
    I'd take my dinner in chipmunk town,
    And wouldn't I gobble the field mice down,
    If I were a wink-ity, blink-ity owl,
    And didn't always have to be me!

    I know very well what I'd like to do
    If I didn't have to do what I do!
    I'd go and be a woodpecker,
    A rap-ity, tap-ity, red-headed woodpecker
    In the top of a tall old tree.
    And I'd never take a look
    At a lesson or a book,
    And I'd scold like a pirate on the sea,
    If I only had to do what I like to do,
    And didn't always have to be me!

    Or else I'd be an antelope,
    A pronghorned antelope,
    With lots of other antelope
    Skimming like a cloud on a wire-grass plian.
    A bounding, bouncing antelope,
    You'd never get me back to my desk again!

    Or I might be a puma,
    A singe-colored puma,
    A slinking, sly-foot puma
    As fierce as fierce could be!
    And I'd wait by the waterholes where antelope drink
    In the cool of the morning
    And I do
                  not
                        think
    That ever any antelope could get away from me.

    But if I were a hunter,
    A red Indian hunter -
    I'd like to be a hunter, -
    I'd have a bow made of juniper wood
    From a lightning-blasted tree,
    And I'd creep and I'd creep on that puma asleep
    A flint tipped arrow,
    An eagle feathered arrow,
    For a puma kills calves and a puma kills sheep,
    And he'd never eat any more antelope
    If he once met up with me!

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  10. 28. From A Railway Carriage

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    Published in the 1885 A Child’s Garden of Verses, this poem mimics the steady movement of a train through the use of rhythm and rhymes. It engages the senses through sights and sounds and will entice children with its excitement and energy.

    Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
    Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
    And charging along like troops in a battle
    All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
    All of the sights of the hill and the plain
    Fly as thick as driving rain;
    And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
    Painted stations whistle by.
    Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
    All by himself and gathering brambles;
    Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
    And here is the green for stringing the daisies!
    Here is a cart runaway in the road
    Lumping along with man and load;
    And here is a mill, and there is a river:
    Each a glimpse and gone forever!

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  11. 29. The Land Of Nod

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    This poem captures the uniqueness of dreaming. At night, we are given a chance to escape from our reality and be present in an entirely different world. Even though it feels real, it cannot be fully explained or located outside of sleep.

    From breakfast on through all the day
    At home among my friends I stay,
    But every night I go abroad
    Afar into the land of Nod.
    All by myself I have to go,
    With none to tell me what to do–
    All alone beside the streams
    And up the mountain-sides of dreams.
    The strangest things are these for me,
    Both things to eat and things to see,
    And many frightening sights abroad
    Till morning in the land of Nod.
    Try as I like to find the way,
    I never can get back by day,
    Nor can remember plain and clear
    The curious music that I hear.

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    It's a simple yet great poem. We cannot ignore the importance of sleeping and dreaming. Dream big and try hard to achieve it.

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  12. 30. Homework Stew

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    Making homework stew is not quite what the teacher had in mind. This funny children’s poem shows what can happen when we mishear something. Famous poet Kenn Nesbitt writes humorous poetry for children, and he served as the Children’s Poet Laureate from 2013-2015.

    I cooked my math book in a broth
    and stirred it to a steaming froth.
    I threw in papers—pencils, too—
    to make a pot of homework stew.

    I turned the flame up nice and hot
    and tossed my binder in the pot.
    I sprinkled in my book report
    with colored markers by the quart.

    Despite its putrid, noxious gas,
    I proudly took my stew to class.
    And though the smell was so grotesque,
    I set it on my teacher’s desk.

    My teacher said, “You’re quite a chef.
    But, still, you’re going to get an F.
    I didn’t ask for ‘homework stew,’
    I said, ‘Tomorrow, homework’s due.'”

    “Homework Stew” copyright © 2005 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved. Published in When the Teacher Isn’t Looking. Reprinted by permission of the author. www.poetry4kids.com

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    I loved this poem because I loved how it said "I sprinkled up my book report". When at the end the teacher said "Your quite a chef but you get a F, I did not say homework stew, I said...

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  13. 31. A Riddle

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    Children enjoy the playful nature of words. They like to figure out riddles and laugh at jokes. Are you able to use the clues in this poem to figure out the riddle?

    There is one that has a head without an eye,
    And there's one that has an eye without a head.
    You may find the answer if you try;
    And when all is said,
    Half the answer hangs upon a thread.

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    Pins and needles Try this: The beginning of eternity, The end of time and space, The beginning of every end, And the end of every place. -The Guess Book (c. 1820)

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  14. 32. What Is Pink?

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    This is a color poem that captures the beauty in the natural world. Color is all around us, from a rose and a poppy to the clouds and sky.

    What is pink? A rose is pink
    By the fountain's brink.
    What is red? A poppy's red
    In its barley bed.
    What is blue? The sky is blue
    Where the clouds float through.
    What is white? A swan is white
    Sailing in the light.
    What is yellow? Pears are yellow,
    Rich and ripe and mellow.
    What is green? The grass is green,
    With small flowers between.
    What is violet? Clouds are violet
    In the summer twilight.
    What is orange? Why, an orange,
    Just an orange!

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    This was a poem I learned at school in my elocution lessons in the early 1960s. It was recited at the end of term and if deserved, a certificate was awarded. The Covid-19 outbreak means I am...

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  15. 33. Morning Prayer

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    Ogden Nash was an American poet who lived from 1902-1971 and was known for his light verse. This poem captures the honesty of a child who has a difficult time behaving during the day. It’s much easier when he’s sleeping. It’s a reminder to all of us to look for new opportunities presented each day.

    Now another day is breaking,
    Sleep was sweet and so is waking.
    Dear Lord, I promised you last night
    Never again to sulk or fight.
    Such vows are easier to keep
    When a child is sound asleep.
    Today, O Lord, for your dear sake,
    I'll try to keep them when awake.

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    He did an amazing job on this poem.

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  16. 34. Lester

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    Shel Silverstein (1930-1999) is one of the most well-known children’s poets. His poems are fun and humorous, but many of them also include a lesson. This poem teaches a lesson about greed. The subject of this poem is given a magic wish, and he continues to wish for more wishes. His selfishness continues throughout his life until he finds that he has not used any wishes. He misses out on everything in life because he’s so concerned about getting more and more.

    Lester was given a magic wish
    By the goblin who lives in the banyan tree,
    And with his wish he wished for two more wishes-
    So now instead of just one wish, he cleverly had three.
    And with each one of these
    He simply wished for three more wishes,
    Which gave him three old wishes, plus nine new.
    And with each of these twelve
    He slyly wished for three more wishes,
    Which added up to forty-six -- or is it fifty-two?
    Well anyway, he used each wish
    To wish for wishes 'til he had
    Five billion, seven million, eighteen thousand thirty-four.
    And then he spread them on the ground
    And clapped his hands and danced around
    And skipped and sang, and then sat down
    And wished for more.
    And more...and more...they multiplied
    While other people smiled and cried
    And loved and reached and touched and felt.
    Lester sat amid his wealth
    Stacked mountain-high like stacks of gold,
    Sat and counted -- and grew old.
    And then one Thursday night they found him
    Dead -- with his wishes piled around him.
    And they counted the lot and found that not
    A single one was missing.
    All shiny and new -- here, take a few
    And think of Lester as you do.
    In a world of apples and kisses and shoes
    He wasted his wishes on wishing.

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  17. 35. Bed In Summer

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    Most children have an early bedtime. In the winter it’s not a problem for them to fall asleep, because it gets dark early, but summer makes it difficult. With more daylight, children long to be able to play until the sun dips far below the horizon.

    In Winter I get up at night
    And dress by yellow candle light.
    In Summer, quite the other way,
    I have to go to bed by day.
    I have to go to bed and see
    The birds still hopping on the tree,
    Or hear the grown-up people's feet
    Still going past me in the street.
    And does it not seem hard to you,
    When all the sky is clear and blue,
    And I should like so much to play,
    To have to go to bed by day?

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  18. 36. Won't You?

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    A Funny Valentine's day Poem for Kids By Shel Silverstein. Have you ever wished for a girl but she's already taken, or even worse, she's not taken but she hates you? Well, a message from this poem is, take comfort you're not the only one.

    Barbara's eyes are blue as azure,
    But she is in love with Freddy.
    Karen's sweet, but Harry has her.
    Gentle Jane is going steady.
    Carol hates me. So does May.
    Abigail will not be mine.
    Nancy lives too far away...
    Won't you be my Valentine?

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  19. 37. The Good Little Boy

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    In this charming poem by Edgar Guest (1881-1959), the speaker shares about a young boy who never did anything wrong. Edgar Guest had a way of writing uplifting poems, and he wrote prolifically, publishing one poem a day for 30 years. The dialect in this poem contributes to its laid-back nature.

    Once there was a boy who never
    Tore his clothes, or hardly ever,
    Never made his sister mad,
    Never whipped fer bein' bad,
    Never scolded by his Ma,
    Never frowned at by his Pa,
    Always fit fer folks to see,
    Always good as good could be.

    This good little boy from Heaven,
    So I'm told, was only seven,
    Yet he never shed real tears
    When his mother scrubbed his ears,
    An' at times when he was dressed
    Fer a party, in his best,
    He was careful of his shirt
    Not to get it smeared with dirt.

    Used to study late at night,
    Learnin' how to read an' write;
    When he played a baseball game,
    Right away he always came
    When his mother called him in.
    An' he never made a din
    But was quiet as a mouse
    when they'd comp'ny in the house.

    Liked to wash his hands an' face,
    Liked to work around the place;
    Never, when he'd tired of play,
    Left his wagon in the way,
    Or his bat an' ball around--
    Put 'em where they could be found;
    An' that good boy married Ma,
    An' to-day he is my Pa.

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  20. 38. Allie

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    Robert Graves lived from 1895-1985, and he fought in the First World War. His name is engraved on a stone at Westminster Abbey as a commemoration of being a Great War poet. In this poem, Allie is asked to call in the animals and children, all of which come running as she calls and sings.

    Allie, call the birds in,
      The birds from the sky.
    Allie calls, Allie sings,
      Down they all fly.
    First there came
    Two white doves
      Then a sparrow from his nest,
    Then a clucking bantam hen,
      Then a robin red-breast.

    Allie, call the beasts in,
      The beasts, every one.
    Allie calls, Allie sings,
      In they all run.
    First there came
    Two black lambs,
      Then a grunting Berkshire sow,
    Then a dog without a tail,
      Then a red and white cow.

    Allie, call the fish up,
      The fish from the stream.
    Allie calls, Allie sings,
      Up they all swim.
    First there came
    Two gold fish,
      A minnow and a miller's thumb,
    Then a pair of loving trout,
      Then the twisted eels come.

    Allie, call the children,
      Children from the green.
    Allie calls, Allie sings,
      Soon they run in.
    First there came
    Tom and Madge,
      Kate and I who'll not forget
    How we played by the water's edge
      Till the April sun set.

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    I met Sr. Graves in Deya de Mallorca in 1973. Having visited his home and met his family, he was kind to return the favor by singing this song among others that are of the repertoire of folk...

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  21. 39. The Owl And The Pussy-Cat

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    The Owl and the Pussycat was first published in 1871 in the book "Nonsense Songs, Stories, Botany and Alphabets", by Edward Lear (1812-1888). Lear played many musical instruments and often performed his poetry with music at social gatherings.

    The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
       In a beautiful pea-green boat,
    They took some honey, and plenty of money,
       Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
    The Owl looked up to the stars above,
       And sang to a small guitar,
    "O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
        What a beautiful Pussy you are,
             You are,
             You are!
    What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

    Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl!
       How charmingly sweet you sing!
    O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
       But what shall we do for a ring?"
    They sailed away, for a year and a day,
       To the land where the Bong-Tree grows
    And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
       With a ring at the end of his nose,
                 His nose,
                 His nose,
       With a ring at the end of his nose.

    "Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
       Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."
    So they took it away, and were married next day
       By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
    They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
       Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
    And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
       They danced by the light of the moon,
                 The moon,
                 The moon,
    They danced by the light of the moon.

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  22. 40. Prairie-Dog Town

    Famous Poem

    Mary Hunter Austin was born in 1868 and died in 1934. This poem, like much of her writings, focuses on nature and animals.

    Old Peter Prairie-dog
    Builds him a house
    In Prairie-Dog Town,
    With a door that goes down
    And down and down,
    And a hall that goes under
    And under and under,
    Where you can't see the lightning,
    You can't hear the thunder,
    For they don't like thunder
    In Prairie-Dog Town.

    Old Peter Prairie-Dog
    Digs him a cellar
    In Prairie-Dog Town,
    With a ceiling that is arched
    And a wall that is round,
    And the earth he takes out he makes into a mound.
    And the hall and the cellar
    Are dark as dark,
    And you can't see a spark,
    Not a single spark;
    And the way to them cannot be found.

    Old Peter Prairie-Dog
    Knows a very clever trick
    Of behaving like a stick
    When he hears a sudden sound,
    Like an old dead stick;
    And when you turn your head
    He'll jump quick, quick,
    And be another stick
    When you look around.
    It is a clever trick,
    And it keeps him safe and sound
    In the cellar and the halls
    That are under the mound
    In Prairie-Dog Town.

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