A frantic clatter of horses' feet!
A runaway's coming down the street!
Flurry, scurry,
Children, hurry!
Drop your playthings! Quick! don't wait!
Run and get within the gate!
Push the baby in the door,
Scramble in yourselves before
—Whoa! Whoa!
There they go!
Pell-mell rushing, snorting, quaking,
Wagon rumbling, harness breaking,
Frightened so they cannot know
Everybody's shrieking "Whoa!"
O my, don't cry!
Whiz, bang, they've galloped by!
No one hurt, but horses dashed
Round a post and wagon smashed!
Dear me! Dear me!
When a runaway we see,
Children, too, must run, oh, fast!
Run and hide as it goes past!
LOST!
"Peep! Peep! Peep!" Poor little chick!
Little cry so weak and small,
Meadow grass so tall and thick,
And the clover tufts so tall!
Little heart in sore distress,
Longing for the mother wing;
Through the weedy wilderness
Searching for its sheltering!
THE QUEEN'S PAGE
Once I was a little page
To a May-day queen,
And I wore a little coat
Made of Lincoln green.