Classic Poem

When good Uncle Derwent was quite a young boy
To fish in the Lake was his frequent employ:
His sister one day was indulged in her wish
To carry his basket when he went to fish.

'Twas pleasant to see the line bob in and out,
With Brandlin and Perch almost equal to trout:
Blue Dragonflies over the water were skimming,
And silvery minnows within it were swimming.

And now with the pebbles she played duck and drake,
Now looked at the Heron that flew o'er the lake:
She found purple bilberries juicy and good,
And columbines tall in a neighbouring wood.

At last 'mid the waves little Sara espies
Some fine water-lilies with bright yellow eyes:
And, thoughtlessly eager to make them her own,
She skipped from the shore to a glistening stone.

From it she expected the lilies to reach:
But this very stone had been brought from the beach
By fisherman Derwent who on it had set
His great naked feet which with wading were wet.

So while his poor sister was pulling a lily,
Not thinking how soon she'd be made to look silly,
While o'er the broad leaves and white blossoms she bent,
Down, down with a plunge in the water she went.

The place was quite shallow, she soon scrambled out;
Her brother, astonished, set up a loud shout:
Her home was far distant, and more than a mile
She ran hardly stopping except at a stile.

A gentleman met her in grievous distress,
And, staring amazed at her dripping white dress,
He held up his hands cast his eyes to the sky,
And said neither ‘how do you do’, nor ‘good bye’.