The Farmyard

Confusion's plenty lies in every way,
And hogs and calves are noising all the day;
The maiden serves them all with merry looks
And often leaves the pattens in the mucks;
Though Hodge is sent to keep the causeys clean,
His idle toil scarce shows her where he's been;
With surly speed he sings an idle song,
And like a walking may-tree lobs along.
The rattling bucket calls the hogs away;
Calves toze the maidens' garments in their play
The hogs lie rooting underneath the straw,
The ducks go waddling with a loaded craw;
The ploughman loads the straw with chubby face,
And carts and waggons stand in every place.
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