Classic Poem

When Herbert's Mama was a slim little Maid
And lived among Waterfalls, Mountains and Lakes,
With Edith her cousin she rambled and played,
And both of them gardened with spades and with rakes.

Sweet Edith was fair as the lilies and peach,
And swift as the slender Gazelle's were her feet.
And over her forehead the small silken curls
Waved yellow and light as the clusters of Wheat.

A Wood full of harebells was close to their home
It led to a River all broken with rocks:
They loved o'er the thyme and the heather to roam
'Mid branches and brambles they ruined their frocks

They tucked up their trowsers to paddle and wade
And washed their Doll's clothes in the Waters so cold
They wove pretty garlands within the cool shade
Their May-Pole was beauteous indeed to behold.

In winter they put on their great wooden Clogs
And down to the Lake with young Derwent they ran
The Sun having chased all the vapours and fogs
Their sport on the Ice in high glee they began.

In Summer they gathered the primroses pale
And filled little Baskets with fruits and with flowers,
To make Primrose Wine, and their friends to regale
Was one of their pleasures in Summer's gay hours.

With Dora and Mary they went to the Grove
And picked purple bilberries near the bright Lake:
They oft with each other in gathering strove
An excellent pie did their bilberries make.

They frequently sat on the bough of a Tree
And climbed to the top of a very high beech
They sought for the foxgloves and O with what glee
They gathered the globe flowers that grew within reach!