“Golden-head, Golden-head,
The sun must have kissed you.”
“So he did,” said Golden-head,
“Just before he went to bed.”

“Golden-head, you’re a white head;
The frost must have nipped you.”
“No; he would not be so bold;
I am only growing old.”

“Puffy-ball, Puffy-ball,
Where’s the wind taking you?
I’m afraid another day
You will all be blown away.”