There, run away, you little things,
And romp, and jump, and play,
You have been quiet long enough,
So run away, I say.
George, you and Lucy roll your hoops,
You on a stick can ride,
And nurse, with baby, run a race,
Or any play beside.
Or you may play at hounds and hare,
And chase it round and round,
But, as a fall may often chance,
Go on the grassy ground.
Or, if you like, beneath the hedge
To gather wild flowers fair,
Go, get your baskets, but be quick,
And I will meet you there.
And afterwards, Papa will make
One in your little play,
And he will try to run as fast
As you did yesterday.
The fresh, fresh air, so softly blows,
And there shines out the sun,
And active limbs and rosy cheeks
Will in the race be won.
For little boys and girls may romp,
And frisk, and jump, and play,
When book and lessons both are done,
So run away, I say.
