Jim Jay

Do diddle di do,
    Poor Jim Jay
Got stuck fast
    In Yesterday.
Squinting he was,
    On Cross-legs bent,
Never heeding
    The wind was spent.
Round veered the weathercock,
    The sun drew in -
And stuck was Jim
    Like a rusty pin...
We pulled and we pulled
    From seven till twelve,
Jim, too frightened
    To help himself.
But all in vain.
    The clock struck one,
And there was Jim
    A little bit gone.
At half-past five
    You scarce could see
A glimpse of his flapping
    Handkerchee.
And when came noon,
    And we climbed sky-high,
Jim was a speck
    Slip - slipping by.
Come to-morrow,
    The neighbours say,
He'll be past crying for;
    Poor Jim Jay.