Who likes the rain?

“I,” said the duck. “I call it fun,
For I have my pretty red rubbers on.
They make a little three-toed track
In the soft, cool mud – quack! quack!”

“I,” cried the dandelion,
“My roots are thirsty, my buds are dry,”
And she lifted a tousled, yellow head
Out of her green and grassy bed.

Sang the brook: “I welcome every drop,
Come down, dear raindrops, never stop
Until a broad river you make of me
And then I will carry you out to the sea.”

“I,” shouted Ted, “For I can run,
With my high-top boots and raincoat on,
Through every puddle and runlet and pool
I find on the road to school!”