  O h, what a pretty scene is this, Of meadow, hill, and brook, I wish that I was small enough To get inside the book. Upon this stream I'd launch my boat; I'd pluck this willow wand; Then round that reedy curve I'd float, And past the mill beyond— If I were only small enough. Then where the meadows are so green I'd moor my boat again, And overtake that little boy Who's trotting down the lane. I'd ask him to be friends with me, I'd take him by the hand, And through my pretty picture we Would go to fairy-land— If I were only small enough. |
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