In loving thyme and greens—a caterpillar;
In hating Bagnios—a lump of dirt;
In living out of doors all winter-time—
A blackbird; in enduring sultry heat,
And chattering at noon—a grasshopper;
In neither using oil, nor seeing it—
A cloud of dust; in walking up and down
Bare-footed at the dawn of day—a crane;
In sleeping not one single jot—a bat.—Walsh.