Among the meadow swamps in clumps of gold
The water blobs gay liver[i]ed blossoms shine
& cows lip crowds their freckld cups unfold
To make the entrance of the spring divine
The little snail within its painted shell
Leaves hed[g]row roots & ventures out again
At night among the dewy grass to dwell
Trailing their little tracks along the plain
Upon his hook oft bends the shepherd swain
To talk of thriving lambs & growing showers