Page:Collected poems vol 2 de la mare.djvu/150

 She glints very bright,
 * And speaks her fair;

Then lo, and behold!
 * She has faded in air.

Be sure old Goodie
 * She trots betimes

Over the meadows
 * To Farmer Grimes.

And never was queen
 * With jewellery rich

As those same hedges
 * From twig to ditch;

Like Dutchmen's coffers,
 * Fruit, thorn, and flower —

They shone like William
 * And Mary's bower.

And be sure Old Goodie
 * Went back to Weep,

So tired with her basket
 * She scarce could creep.

When she comes in the dusk
 * To her cottage door,

There's Towser wagging
 * As never before.

To see his Missus
 * So glad to be

Come from her fruit-picking
 * Back to he.