There's the other day, for my sight is short, and I saw what was green beyond,
And thought it was all terry firmer and grass till I walked in the duckweed pond:
Or perhaps when I've pully-hauled up a bank they see me come launching down,
As none but a stout London female can do as is come a first time out of town.
Then how sweet, some say, on a mossy bank a verdurous seat to find,
But for my part I always found it a joy that brought a repentance behind;
For the juicy grass with its nasty green has stained a whole breadth of my gown—
And when gowns are dyed, I needn't say, it's much better done up in town.
As for country fare, the first morning I came I heard such a shrill piece of work!
And ever since—and it's ten days ago—we've lived upon nothing but pork;