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Poem by Oliver Herford


The Outing


My Bed is like a little Bark,
The hatch is battened down,
And in the basket cabin dark
I sail away from Town.
Now, when they lift the lid, a scene
Of wonder meets my eyes,
Tall waving Feather-Dusters green,
That seem to touch the skies.
And over all the Ground is spread
A Rug of Emerald sweet,
Most deep enough to hide my head
And tickly to my feet.
And here’s the Cow, calm-eyed stands she,
The Genie of the Jug,
Beneath the Feather-Duster Tree,
And eats the Emerald Rug.



Oliver Herford


Oliver Herford's other poems:
  1. The Whole Duty of Kittens
  2. In Darkest Africa
  3. A Kitten’s Fancy
  4. Kitten’s Night Thought
  5. Some Geese


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