Song of the Ducks

One little black duck, one little gray,
Six little white ducks, running out to play;
One white lady-duck, motherly and trim,
Eight little baby ducks, bound for a swim!
One little white duck, holding up its wings,
One little bobbing duck, making water-rings,
One little black duck, turning round its head,
One big black duck--guess he's gone to bed.
One little white duck, running from the water,
One very fat duck--pretty little daughter!
One very brave duck, swimming off alone,
One little white duck, standing on a stone.
One little white duck, walking by its mother;
Look among the water-reeds, maybe there's another.

Not another anywhere? surely you are blind.
Push away the grass, dear; ducks are hard to find.
Bright little brown eyes! o'er the picture linger;
Point me all the ducks out, chubby little finger!
Make the picture musical, merry little shout!
Now, where's that other duck? What is he about?
I think the other duck's the nicest duck of all;
He hasn't any feathers, and his mouth is sweet and small;
He runs with a light step, and jumps upon my knee,
And though he cannot swim, he is very dear to me.

One white lady-duck, motherly and trim;
Eight little baby-ducks, bound for a swim;
One lazy black duck, taking quite a nap;
One little precious duck, here on mamma's lap!