 | Mother Pitcher's poems For Little People |  |
17
Over the River.
Over the river and down the hill,
Where grass and flowers are growing,
Over the meadow I'll chase you still,
To where the boys are mowing.
Where grass and flowers are growing,
Over the meadow I'll chase you still,
To where the boys are mowing.
Over the meadow Miss Clarity ran,
And over the rock she stumbled;
And down she went, like a rolling pan,
Till into the brook she tumbled.
And over the rock she stumbled;
And down she went, like a rolling pan,
Till into the brook she tumbled.
18
And down the river Miss Clarity flew,
And over the cataract after;
And out she paddled, wet through and through,
But still couldn't speak for laughter.
And over the cataract after;
And out she paddled, wet through and through,
But still couldn't speak for laughter.
They laid her to dry on the new-mown hay,
And, while she lay there sunning,
She said she would race for a penny a day,
And beat us all round at running.
And, while she lay there sunning,
She said she would race for a penny a day,
And beat us all round at running.
| Mother Pitcher's poems For Little People | |