When summer’s in The city
And brick’s
a blaze of heat
The
Ice-cream man with his little cart
Goes
trundling down the street.
Beneath his
round umbrella,
Oh, what a
joyful sight
to see him fill the cones with mounds
Of cooling
brown and white :
Vanilla,
chocolate, strawberry
Vanilla, chocolate strawberry,
From bottles
full of frosty-fizz
Green,
orange white, or pink.
His cart might be a flower bed,
Or roses and
sweet peas,
The way the
children cluster round
As thick as
honeybees.
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