In the days of laughing spring time,

Comes the mild-eyed sorrel cow,

With bald-headed patches on her,

Poor and lousy, I allow;

And she waddles through your garden

O'er the radish-beds, I trow.

Then the red-nosed, wild-eyed orphan,

With his cyclopÆdiee,

Hies him to the rural districts

With more or less alacrity.

And he showeth up its merits

To the bright eternitee.

How the bumble-bee doth bumble

Bumbling in the fragrant air,

Bumbling with his little bumbler,

Till he climbs the golden stair.

Then the angels will provide him

With another bumbilaire.