From Rude Rural Rhymes by Bob Adams, New York: The Macmillan Company; 1925; pp. 58-59.
HAIRY VETCH
In the pleasant summer weather,
Rye and vetch grew green together.
A boy came over hills and hollows
Saw the vetch and spoke as follows:
“Funny little purple pea,
What can you do for me?
I see you twinkling in the rye,
Where it stands head high;
I see your lacy leaves grow,
Pretty purple posies blow,
What’s your use, I want to know?”
“My beauty would be some excuse,
Had my vine no other use,
Smiling at you from the rye
As you wander barefoot by.
But I boast of other uses;
Root nitrogen my best excuse is.
Plow us under and entomb us,
Rye and I will give you humus.
In your field or garden plot,
Bury us and let us rot,
With a little longer stay,
Mowed in June and stowed away,
[59]
We make mighty tasty hay.
We grow well in falls and springs;
Guess we have our place, by jings,
In the general scheme of things.”
Once a better bard than I
Wrote of coming through the rye.
So I make this rhyming sketch,
In honor of rye’s chum, the vetch.