< h369.txt.1; poem >
We like March -
His Shoes are
Purple -
He is new
and
high -
Makes he Mud
for Dog and Peddler,
Makes he
Forests
dry -
Knows the
Adder Tongue his
coming
And presents
her
Spot -
<second leaf (H 369)>
Stands the Sun
so close
and
mighty
That our minds
are hot -
News is he of
all the others -
Bold it were
to die
With the
Blue
Birds Exercising
On his British
Sky -