IN tears to her mother poor Harriet came,
Let us listen to hear what she says:
'O see, dear mamma, it is pouring with rain,
We cannot go out in the chaise.
'All the week I have long'd for this holiday so,
And fancied the minutes were hours;
And now that I'm dress'd and all ready to go,
Do look at those terrible showers! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem