She hastens out and scarcely pins her clothes To hear the news and tell the news she knows; She talks of sluts, marks each unmended gown, Her self the dirtiest slut in all the town. She stands with eager haste at slander's tale, And drinks the news as drunkards drink their ale. Excuse is ready at the biggest lie-- She only heard it and it passes bye. The very cat looks up and knows her face And hastens to the chair to get the place; When once set down she never goes away, Till tales are done and talk has nought to say. She goes from house to house the village oer, Her slander bothers everybody's door.
I wandered out one rainy day And heard a bird with merry joys Cry "wet my foot" for half the way; I stood and wondered at the noise,
When from my foot a bird did flee-- The rain flew bouncing from her breast I wondered what the bird could be, And almost trampled on her nest.
The nest was full of eggs and round-- I met a shepherd in the vales, And stood to tell him what I found. He knew and said it was a quail's,
For he himself the nest had found, Among the wheat and on the green, When going on his daily round, With eggs as many as fifteen.
Among the stranger birds they feed, Their summer flight is short and low; There's very few know where they breed, And scarcely any where they go.
With arms and legs at work and gentle stroke That urges switching tail nor mends his pace, On an old ribbed and weather beaten horse, The farmer goes jogtrotting to the fair. Both keep their pace that nothing can provoke Followed by brindled dog that snuffs the ground With urging bark and hurries at his heels. His hat slouched down, and great coat buttoned close Bellied like hooped keg, and chuffy face Red as the morning sun, he takes his round And talks of stock: and when his jobs are done And Dobbin's hay is eaten from the rack, He drinks success to corn in language hoarse, And claps old Dobbin's hide, and potters back.
The passing traveller with wonder sees A deep and ancient stonepit full of trees; So deep and very deep the place has been, The church might stand within and not be seen. The passing stranger oft with wonder stops And thinks he een could walk upon their tops, And often stoops to see the busy crow, And stands above and sees the eggs below; And while the wild horse gives its head a toss, The squirrel dances up and runs across. The boy that stands and kills the black nosed bee Dares down as soon as magpies' nests are found, And wonders when he climbs the highest tree To find it reaches scarce above the ground.