I'm sure 'tis too pleasant of school to be thinking,
Its tasks this bright day I should hate;
Much better I'd like the fresh air to be drinking,
Than puzzle o'er book and o'er slate.

O if it were Pic-nic to-day, my dear mother,
How happy and gay I should be!
How joyful without any studies to pother,
Away in the woods to roam free.

I'm sorry 'tis over; how great was my pleasure
The whole of that beautiful day;
I jumped, and I danced, and I sung without measure,
But ah! it so soon passed away.

How well I remember the time of our starting!
How quick the large cars we did fill!
How screamed the shrill whistle, the signal for parting!
How we flew by town, river, and hill!

We reached the sweet grove which in stillness was waiting,
Its numerous guests to receive;
We rested one moment, while we were debating
What wonder we first should achieve.

"Let us make some green wreaths! let us gather wild flowers!"
Said some; and they bounded away.
"Let us fill up with music and dancing the hours!"
Said others, more lively and gay.