The milkmaid's call

As I walked down a lane this morn,

I heard a sweet voice cry, Come, Come!

And then I saw ten dull, fat cows

Begin to race like horses home;

Like horses in their pace,

Though lacking horses' grace.

That voice, which did uplift those feet

Of cows, uplifted mine likewise;

For, with a heart so light, I walked

Until the sweat did blind my eyes;

And all the way back home,

I heard her cry, Come, Come!