The morning road is thronged with merry boys
Who seek the water for their Sunday joys
They run to seek the shallow pit, and wade
And dance about the water in the shade
The boldest ventures first and dashes in
And others go and follow to the chin
And duck about, and try to lose their fears
And laugh to hear the thunder in their ears
They bundle up the rushes for a boat
And try across the deepest place to float
Beneath the willow trees they ride and stoop
The awkward load will scarcely bear them up
Without their aid the others float away
And play about the water half the day