Har-ry and Tom, the o-ther day, Went out in-to the yard to play; Their great de-light, in wea-ther bright, Is blow-ing bub-bles with pipes of clay.

It's the lightin' that's har-rd.

Gau-dy pop-pies must not stay Till the fu-ture har-vest day: They would wi-ther when the heat Ri-pens all the gold-en wheat Life for them is short and sweet.