He said to the wind, "Come, follow; come, follow
With whistle and pipe, with rustle and hollo;"
And the wind wound round at his desire,
As if Boy had been the gold cock on the spire;
And the cock itself flew down from the church
And left the farmers all in the lurch.
Everything, everything, all and sum,
They run and they fly, they creep and they come;
The very trees they tugged at their roots,
Only their feet were too fast in their boots—
After him leaning and straining and bending,
As on through their boles the army kept wending,
Till out of the wood Boy burst on a lea,
Shouting and calling, "Come after me,"
And then they rose with a leafy hiss
And stood as if nothing had been amiss.
Little Boy Blue sat down on a stone,
And the creatures came round him every one.
He said to the clouds, "I want you there!"
And down they sank through the thin blue air.