LITMIR.BIZ

      Old Mother Duck has hatched a brood

      Of ducklings, small and callow:

      Their little wings are short, their down

      Is mottled gray and yellow.

      There is a quiet little stream,

      That runs into the moat,

      Where tall green sedges spread their leaves,

      And water-lilies float.

      Close by the margin of the brook,

      The old duck made her nest,

      Of straw, and leaves, and withered grass,

      And down from her own breast.

      And there she sat for four long weeks,

      In rainy days and fine,

      Until the ducklings all came out—