Classic Poem

Hunting the dodder,
Through the lanes I pass,
But my thoughts are hunting
Yon pretty lass!
In this thicket she should be,
About this rustic spot, said she,
And promised to go back with me.

Gleaning the wheat-ears,
I pass the street,
But my thoughts are gleaning
Yon pretty sweet!
In this thicket she should be,
About this rustic spot, said she,
And promised to go back with me.

Hunting the shallots
I pass the moat,
But my thoughts are hunting
A petticoat!
In this thicket she should be,
About this rustic spot, said she,
And promised to go back with me.