  INo one ever saw it Till I dug it from the ground; I found it when I lost it, And lost it when I found: I washed it, and dressed it, And buried it once more— Dug it up, and loved it then Better than before. I was paid for finding it— I don’t know why or how,— But I lost, found, and kept it, And haven’t got it now. IISometimes it’s all alone— Sometimes in a crowd; It says a thousand bright things, But never talks aloud. Everybody loves it, And likes to have it call, But if you shouldn’t happen to, It wouldn’t care at all. First you see or hear of it, It’s a-singing,—then You may look and listen, But it never sings again. |
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