The spider forgot and followed him spinning, And lost all his thread from end to beginning. The gay wasp forgot his rings and his waist, He never had made such undignified haste. The dragon-flies melted to mist with their hurrying. The mole in his moleskins left his barrowing burrowing. The bees went buzzing, so busy and beesy, And the midges in columns so upright and easy. But Little Boy Blue was not content, Calling for followers still as he went, Blowing his horn, and beating his drum, And crying aloud, “Come all of you, come!” He said to the shadows, “Come after me;” And the shadows began to flicker and flee, And they flew through the wood all flattering and fluttering, Over the dead leaves flickering and muttering. And he said to the wind, “Come, follow; come, follow, With whistle and pipe, and rustle and hollo.” And the wind wound round at his desire, As if he had been the gold cock on the spire. And the cock itself flew down from the church, And left the farmers all in the lurch. They run and they fly, they creep and they come, Everything, everything, all and some. The very trees they tugged at their roots, Only their feet were too fast in their boots, After him leaning and straining and bending, As on through their boles he kept walking and wending, Till out of the wood he burst on a lea, Shouting and calling, “Come after me!” And then they rose up with a leafy hiss, And stood as if nothing had been amiss. Little Boy Blue sat down on a stone, And the creatures came round him every one. And he said to the clouds, “I want you there.” And down they sank through the thin blue air. And he said to the sunset far in the West, “Come here; I want you; I know best.” And the sunset came and stood up on the wold, And burned and glowed in purple and gold. Then Little Boy Blue began to ponder: “What's to be done with them all, I wonder.” Then Little Boy Blue, he said, quite low, “What to do with you all I am sure I don't know.” Then the clouds clodded down till dismal it grew; The snake sneaked close; round Birdie Brown flew; The brook sat up like a snake on its tail; And the wind came up with a what-will-you wail; And all the creatures sat and stared; The mole opened his very eyes and glared; And for rats and bats and the world and his wife, Little Boy Blue was afraid of his life.