Thou, like a little curious fly
That fusses through the air,
Dost pry and pry
With thy keen inquisitive eye.
And with many questions, ever
Rippling like a restless river,
Puzzling many an older brain
Dost thou hour by hour increase thy store
Of marvelous lore.
Thus a squirrel, darting deftly,
Up and down autumnal trees