Classic Poem

I found a ball of grass among the hay
And progged it as I passed and went away;
And when I looked I fancied something stirred,
And turned agen, and hoped to catch the bird--

When out an old mouse bolted in the wheats
With all her young ones hanging at her teats;
She looked so odd and so grotesque to me,
I ran and wondered what the thing could be,
And pushed the knapweed bunches where I stood.
Then the mouse hurried from the craking brood,
The young ones squeaked, and as I went away,
She found her nest again among the hay.
The water o'er the pebbles scarce could run,
And broad old cesspools glittered in the sun.