When Godmama Edith and Herbert's mama
Were living together near Keswick's bright Lake
They clomb up great Skiddaw with Edith's papa
And oft did a journey in Borodale take.

In Summer they sat on the bough of a tree
And often they climbed to the top of the beech:
They went to the river the globe flow'rs to see
And often transplanted the roots they could reach.

In Winter they put on their great wooden clogs
And down to the Lake with their comrades they ran;
The Sun having chased all the vapours and fogs
Their sport on the ice in high glee they began.

In Summer they loved by the river to play
And was their doll's frocks in the water so cold;
In heaping up stones they spent many a day
But ne'er did an end to their labours behold.

As soon as the bridge was about three parts done
A great heavy rainfall was sure to ensue:
The river would then with great violence run:
Away went the bridge — not a stone left in view.