The willow-walks are made;
And now and then a violet
Grows in the willow’s shade.
“The dandelion and mullin bloom
By the glossy buttercups’ bed;
And the thistle looks like a soldier’s plume
With its beautiful tip of red!
“The blackberries grow by the stony wall,
You may pick them as you pass;
The strawberries, too, but so scattered and small