Violet! Violet! Lady May! "
Here and there, with her shrill, sweet shout,
At last she had driven the sheep all out;
Then she carefully shut the five-barred gate;
And little Boy Blue, with his curly pate,
Still untroubled by aught like sheep,
Lay 'neath the hay-stack fast asleep.
Oh, what is that rustling amongst the corn?
Oh! little Boy Blue, come blow your horn!
"The cows are eating the golden grain!"