Three plum buns
To eat here at the stile
In the clover meadow,
For we have walked a mile.
One for you, and one for me,
And one left over:
Give it to the boy who shouts
To scare sheep from the clover.
More verses by Christina Georgina Rossetti
- Clouds
- The Caterpillar
- Three Little Children
- The Summer Nights Are Short
- The Lily Has A Smooth Stalk