A Covered Bridge
I stroll along a bubbling brook,
Exploring every crevice and crook,
Until at last I hap upon,
What you will learn here anon.
A swift step over hill and dale,
Will quickly take me there,
And, like a pigeon flut’ring home,
To the end soon will I roam.
A squatting toad athwart the creek,
Now have I found the thing I seek.
‘Tis white and russet and quite long,
A bridge for me to march along.
With peaking roof and creaking bed,
With beams, so that I bump my head,
And windows, out of which I look,
And spot bellow the bubbling brook.
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