ON A WET DAY
As I walk’d thinking through a little grove,
Some girls that gather’d flowers came passing me,
Saying—“Look here! look there!” delightedly.
“O here it is!” “What’s that?” “A lily? love!”
“And there are violets!”
“Farther for roses! O the lovely pets!
The darling beauties! O the nasty thorn!
Look here, my hand’s all torn!”
“What’s that that jumps?” “O don’t! it’s a grasshopper!”