Her Joy Job

I feel fine dear friends to find with joy here That the bubbles I raise in my small glass Can come across your eyes my dear reader To wet in your garden some blades of grass I have only a few good cups with me And that too not always subservient Even if I can keep me mostly free Colored bubbles hardly find easy vent Though I want to be under your wide eye My cups being fixed I hardly can do Raise as many drops as would underlie And spread my wordy grin my dear to you Still this bubbling from my limited bowls Remains a joy job to my starving souls __________________________________