The Book of the Native

by Charles G.D. Roberts


 

The Cricket


 

Oh, to be a cricket,
    That’s the thing!
To scurry in the grass
    And to have one’s fling!
And it’s oh, to be a cricket
5
In the warm thistle-thicket,
    Where the sun-winds pass,
    Winds a-wing,
And the bumble-bees hang humming,
    Hum and swing,
10
And the honey-drops are coming!

It’s to be a summer rover,
    That can see a sweet, and pick it
    With the sting!
    Never mind the sting!

15

And it’s oh, to be a cricket
    In the clover!
    A gay summer rover
In the warm thistle-thicket,
Where the honey-drops are coming,
20
Where the bumble-bees hang humming—
    That’s the thing!