And spiders from their cobwebs peep.
Last night the sun went pale to bed;
The moon in haloes hid her head;
The boding shepherd heaves a sigh,
For, see, a rainbow spans the sky.
The walls are damp, the ditches smell,
Clos'd is the light red pimpernel.
Hark! how the chairs and tables crack,
Old Betty's joints are on the rack;
Her corns with shooting pains torment her,