What the thrush toils at
the partridge asks for
the hapless one takes
the troubled one steals
puts upon a spade
sets on a runner
hides under a door
shields with a bath-whisk

the farmer hammers
and tempers his spears
marries off his sons
hands out his daughters
in boots clogged with clay
in fancy mittens

the sea-swell rumbles
and the wind it blows
and the king hears it
>from five miles away
>from six directions
>from seven back woods
>from eight heaths away