Page:Collected poems vol 2 de la mare.djvu/149

 HERE was an old woman
 * Went blackberry picking

Along the hedges
 * From Weep to Wicking.

Half a pottle —
 * No more she had got,

When out steps a Fairy
 * From her green grot;

And says, "Well, Jill,
 * Would 'ee pick 'ee mo?"

And Jill, she curtseys,
 * And looks just so.

"Be off," says the Fairy,
 * "As quick as you can,

Over the meadows
 * To the little green lane,

That dips to the hayfields
 * Of Farmer Grimes:

I've berried those hedges
 * A score of times;

Bushel on bushel
 * I'll promise 'ee, Jill,

This side of supper
 * If 'ee pick with a will."