  Ring-ting! I wish I were a primrose, A bright yellow primrose, blooming in the spring! The stooping bough above me, The wandering bee to love me, The fern and moss to creep across, And the elm tree for our king! Nay, stay! I wish I were an elm tree, A great, lofty elm tree with green leaves gay! The winds would set them dancing, The sun and moonshine glance in, And birds would house among the boughs, And sweetly sing. Oh, no! I wish I were a robin— A robin, or a little wren, everywhere to go, Through forest, field, or garden, And ask no leave or pardon, Till winter comes, with icy thumbs, To ruffle up our wing! —William Allingham. |
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