So gentle in manner, so humble in mind,
E'en the worms at her feet
She would never ill-treat,
And to Bird, Bee, and Butterfly always is sweet."
Then the gardener's wife the pathway came down,
And the mischievous Brier caught hold of her gown;
"O dear, what a tear!
My gown's spoiled, I declare!
That troublesome Brier!—it has no business there;
Here, John, grub it up; throw it into the fire."