Our little Kinsmen – after
Rain
In plenty may be seen,
A Pink and Pulpy
multitude
The tepid Ground opon.

A needless life, it
seemed to me
Until a little Bird
As to a Hospitality
Advanced and break–
fasted –

As I of He, so God
of Me
I pondered, may have
judged,
And left the little
Angle Worm
With Modesties enlarged.