Chapter IV: Appendix: Notes (1)
INDEX TO AUTHORS, TITLES, AND THE FIRST LINES OF POEMS
TYPES OF CHILDREN'S LITERATURE
NURSERY JINGLES
Little Miss Muffet Sat on a tuffet, Eating of curds and whey; Along came a spider And sat down beside her, Which frightened Miss Muffet away.
* * * * *
Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John Went to bed with his stockings on; One shoe off, the other shoe on, Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John.
* * * * *
"Let's go to bed," Says Sleepy-head; "Let's stay awhile," says Slow; "Put on the pot," Says Greedy-sot, "We'll sup before we go."
* * * * *
Jack Sprat could eat no fat,
His wife could eat no lean:
And so betwixt them both, you see,
They licked the platter clean.
* * * * *
There was a little girl, And she had a little curl Right in the middle of her forehead; When she was good, She was very, very good; But when she was bad--she was horrid.
[Footnote: Attributed to Longfellow.]
* * * * *
Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water;
Jack fell down and broke his crown,
And Jill came tumbling after.
* * * * *
Hickory, dickory, dock, The mouse ran up the clock. The clock struck one, And down he run, Hickory, dickory, dock
* * * * *
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe; She had so many children she didn't know what to do. She gave them some broth without any bread, And whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
* * * * *
Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater, Had a wife and couldn't keep her. He put her in a pumpkin shell, And there he kept her very well.
* * * * *
Little Jack Horner
Sat in a corner,
Eating a Christmas pie:
He put in his thumb
And pulled out a plum
And said, "What a good boy am I!"
* * * * *
Old Mother Hubbard Went to the cupboard To get her poor dog a bone; But when she got there, The cupboard was bare, And so the poor dog had none.
She went to the baker's
To buy him some bread;
And when she came back,
The poor dog was dead.
She went to the joiner's
To buy him a coffin;
And when she came back,
The doggy was laughin'.
She went to the butcher's
To buy him some tripe;
And when she came back,
He was smoking his pipe.
She went to the hatter's
To buy him a hat;
And when she came back,
He was feeding the cat.
She went to the barber's
To buy him a wig;
And when she came back,
He was dancing a jig.
She went to the tailor's
To buy him a coat;
And when she came back,
He was riding a goat.
She went to the cobbler's
To buy him some shoes;
And when she came back,
He was reading the news.
* * * * *
Little Bo-peep She lost her sheep, And couldn't tell where to find them. "Let them alone And they'll come home, Wagging their tails behind them."
Little Bo-peep Fell fast asleep And dreamt she heard them bleating, But when she awoke, She found it a joke, For still they all were fleeting.
Then up she took Her little crook, Determined for to find them.
She found them indeed, But it made her heart bleed,-- For they'd left their tails behind them.
* * * * *
My dear, do you know A long time ago Two poor little children, Whose names I don't know, Were taken away on a bright summer day And left in the woods, as I've heard people say.
And when it was night, How sad was their plight! The sun it went down And the stars hid their light. They sobbed and they sighed and sadly they cried, Till the poor little things at last lay down and died.
And when they were dead, The robins so red Brought beech and oak leaves And over them spread. And all the day long, the branches among, They sang to them softly, and this was their song: "Poor babes in the woods, poor babes in the woods, Oh, who will come find the poor babes in the woods?"
* * * * *
Old Dan Tucker was a fine old man; He washed his face in a frying pan, He combed his hair with a wagon wheel, And died with the toothache in his heel.
* * * * *
Old Man John sitting down by the spring; He's a Jew, he's a ring, He's a many pretty thing. He's a hammer with nine nails, He's a cat with nine tails. Whip jack, spur Tom, Blow the bellows for Old Man John.
* * * * *
We're all in the dumps, For diamonds are trumps; The kittens are gone to St. Paul's; The babies are bit, The moon's in a fit, And the houses are built without walls.
* * * * *
I had a little horse, his name was Dapple Gray; His legs were made of cornstalks, his body made of hay. I saddled him and bridled him and rode him off to town; Up came a puff of wind, and blew him up and down. The saddle flew off, and I let go,-- Now didn't my horse make a pretty little show?
* * * * *
Georgy-porgy, pudding and pie, Kissed the girls and made them cry. When the boys came out to play, Georgy-porgy ran away.
* * * * *
April fool, go to school, Sit on a two-legged stool. Too wise you are, too wise you be; You are not too wise for me.
* * * * *
Johnny's mad, and I am glad,
And I know what will please him:
A bottle of wine to make him shine,
And Mary Jones to squeeze him.
* * * * *
Cry, baby, cry, Stick your finger in your eye And tell your mother 'twasn't I.
* * * * *
Tell-tale-tit, Your tongue shall be slit, And all the dogs about the town Shall have a little bit.
Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked. If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, Where is the peck of peppers Peter Piper picked?
* * * * *
Swan swam over the sea,
Swim, swan, swim;
Swan swam back again,
Well swum, swan.
* * * * *
Ickity, pickity, ally gadaw, Dicks, do, ally gamaw, Okus, pokus, pelly gaw, Franz.
* * * * *
One-ery, two-ery, three-ery, thum, Backsley, Billy, Nicholas, Bum, One-a-tirry, Dick and Sirry, Pot ban, riddle man, Link, Pink, Sink.
* * * * *
Inly, minly, dibbity fig, Delia, Dolia, dominig, Otcha, potcha, dominotcha, Ella Bella boo, Out goes you.
* * * * *
Intery, mintery, cutery corn, Apple seed and apple thorn, Wire, brier, limber lock, Three geese in a flock; Along came Tod, With his long rod, And scared them all to Migly-wod. One flew east, one flew west, One flew over the cuckoo's nest.-- Make your way home, Jack.
* * * * *
Trit-trot, trit-trot, To buy a penny cake; Home again, home again, I met a black-snake. Pick up a stone And breaky backy-bone Trit-trot, trit-trot All the way home.
* * * * *
Hippity--hop to the barber shop,
To buy a stick of candy;
One for you, and one for me,
And one for Brother Andy.
* * * * *
This little mouse got caught in a trap, And this little mouse she heard it snap, This little mouse did loudly squeak out, And this little mouse did run all about, This little mouse said, "Do not bewail And let us take hold and pull him out by the tail."
[Footnote: Recited on the baby's fingers or toes.]
* * * * *
Here we go up, up, up,
Here we go down, down, down-y;
Here we go up, and here we go down,
And here we go round, round, round-y.
* * * * *
As I went through the garden gap, Whom should I meet but Dick Red-cap,-- A stick in his hand, A stone in his throat,-- If you'll tell me this riddle, I'll give you a gold fiddle. (A cherry)
* * * * *
One day I went to my whirly-whicker-whacker, (Fodder field) I met bow-backer, (A hog) I called Tom-tacker (A dog) To drive bow-backer Out of my whirly-whicker-whacker.
* * * * *
One day I went to Body-tot, I met three ladies in a trot, With green heads and yellow toes,-- If you don't tell me this riddle I'll burn your nose. (Hens)
* * * * *
Big at the bottom and little at the top, A thing in the middle goes flippety-flop. (A churn)
* * * * *
Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall; All the king's horses and all the king's men Couldn't put Humpty Dumpty together again. (An egg)
* * * * *
I have a little sister, she's called Peep-peep; She wades the waters deep, deep, deep; She climbs the mountains high, high, high,-- Poor little thing, she has but one eye. (A star)
* * * * *
There was a man who had no eyes, He went abroad to view the skies; He saw a tree with apples on it, He took no apples off, yet left no apples on it.
(The man had _one_ eye, and the tree had _two_ apples on it.)
* * * * *
(The following catch depends upon the second child repeating the exact words of the first, except that he changes "lock" to "key.")
1. I am a gold lock. 2. I am a gold key. 1. I am a silver lock, 2. I am a silver key. 1. I am a brass lock, 2. I am a brass key. 1. I am a monk lock. 2. I am a monk-key.
* * * * *
As I was _going_ to St. Ives, I _met_ a man with seven wives; Each wife had seven sacks, Each sack had seven cats, Each sack had seven kits,-- Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, How many were _going_ to St. Ives?
* * * * *
Star of light, so bright, so bright, 'Tis the first star I've seen tonight; I wish I may, I wish I might Have the wish I wish tonight.
* * * * *
Marble, marble, roll away,
Go find your brother;
Marble, marble, come back home,
Bring me another.
[Footnote: If you have lost a marble, take another marble and roll it toward the place you lost the first one, repeating this charm. You will find the lost one near the second marble.]
* * * * *
Honest and true, black and blue, You may take your knife and cut me in two. (An oath)
* * * * *
Come, butter, come, Come, butter, come; Johnny stands at the gate, Waiting for a butter cake,-- Come, butter, come.
* * * * *
Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John Guard the bed that I lie on; One to watch and one to pray, And two to bear my soul away.
* * * * *
Mole on the neck, Money by the peck.
* * * * *
Rain before seven, Quit before eleven.
* * * * *
Evening red and morning gray Sets the traveler on his way; Evening gray and morning red, Brings down rain upon his head.
* * * * *
When the fog goes up the hill, Then the rain comes down by the mill.
* * * * *
When the bees all homeward fly, Flowers will not long be dry.
* * * * *
1, 2, 3, 4, Mary at the cottage door; 5, 6, 7, 8, Eating cherries off a plate.
* * * * *
Naught, one, Work is done; Two, three, Jubilee; Four, five, Ducks are alive; Six, seven, Stars shine up in heaven; Eight, nine, Queen, Queen Caroline, Wash your face in turpentine, Monkey-shine, monkey-shine, Queen, Queen Caroline.
* * * * *
In fourteen hundred and ninety-two Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
* * * * *
Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November; All the rest have thirty-one, Excepting February alone, Which has twenty-eight in line, Till leap-year gives it twenty-nine.
* * * * *
Birds of a feather Flock together.
* * * * *
He that would thrive Must rise at five; He that has thriven May rise at seven.
* * * * *
Little strokes Fell great oaks.
* * * * *
See a pin and pick it up, All the day you'll have good luck. See a pin and let it lay, You'll have bad luck all the day.
* * * * *
For every evil under the sun, There is a remedy, or there is none; If there be one, try and find it, If there be none, never mind it.
* * * * *
Pease porridge hot,
Pease porridge cold,
Pease porridge in the pot,
Nine days old.
Some like it hot,
Some like it cold,
Some like it in the pot,
Nine days old.
* * * * *
Hot-cross buns,
Hot-cross buns,
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot-cross buns.
Hot-cross buns,
Hot-cross buns,
If you have no daughters,
Give them to your sons.
SOME CHILDREN'S POETS
William Blake
PIPING DOWN THE VALLEYS WILD
Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:--
"Pipe a song about a lamb:"
So I piped with merry cheer.
"Piper, pipe that song again:"
So I piped: he wept to hear.
"Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe,
Sing thy songs of happy cheer!"
So I sang the same again,
While he wept with joy to hear.
"Piper, sit thee down and write
In a book, that all may read--"
So he vanished from my sight;
And I plucked a hollow reed,
And I made a rural pen,
And I stained the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs
Every child may joy to hear.
THE LAMB
Little lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee, Gave thee life and bade thee feed By the stream and o'er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight, Softest clothing, woolly, bright, Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice? Little lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee?
Little lamb, I'll tell thee; Little lamb, I'll tell thee. He is called by thy name, For He calls himself a Lamb. He is meek, and He is mild; He became a little child. I a child, and thou a lamb, We are called by His name. Little lamb, God bless thee! Little lamb, God bless thee!
LAUGHING SONG
When the green wood laughs with the voice of joy, And the dimpling stream runs laughing by; When the air does laugh with our merry wit, And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;
When the meadows laugh with lively green, And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene; When Mary, and Susan, and Emily With their sweet round mouths sing, "Ha ha he!"
When the painted birds laugh in the shade, When our table with cherries and nuts is spread; Come live, and be merry, and join with me, To sing the sweet chorus of "Ha ha he!"
CHRISTINA ROSSETTI
THE WIND
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I
But when the leaves hang trembling
The wind is passing by.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I
But when the trees bow down their heads
The wind is passing by.
THE CITY MOUSE AND THE GARDEN MOUSE
The city mouse lives in a house;--
The garden mouse lives in a bower,
He's friendly with the frogs and toads,
And sees the pretty plants in flower.
The city mouse eats bread and cheese;--
The garden mouse eats what he can;
We will not grudge him seeds and stalks,
Poor little timid furry man.
LULLABY
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Flowers are closed and lambs are sleeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Stars are up, the moon is peeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
While the birds are silence keeping,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Sleep, my baby, fall a-sleeping,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
THE SISTERS
Sing me a song--
What shall I sing?--
Three merry sisters
Dancing in a ring,
Light and fleet upon their feet
As birds upon the wing.
Tell me a tale--
What shall I tell?--
Two mournful sisters,
And a tolling knell,
Tolling ding and tolling dong,
Ding dong bell.
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
THE WIND
I saw you toss the kites on high And blow the birds about the sky; And all around I heard you pass, Like ladies' skirts across the grass-- O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!
I saw the different things you did, But always you yourself you hid. I felt you push, I heard you call, I could not see yourself at all-- O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!
O you that are so strong and cold! O blower, are you young or old? Are you a beast of field and tree, Or just a stronger child than me? O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!
WINDY NIGHTS
Whenever the moon and stars are set, Whenever the wind is high, All night long in the dark and wet, A man goes riding by. Late in the night when the fires are out, Why does he gallop and gallop about?
Whenever the trees are crying aloud, And ships are tossed at sea, By, on the highway, low and loud, By at the gallop goes he; By at the gallop he goes, and then By he comes back at the gallop again.
THE WHOLE DUTY OF CHILDREN
A child should always say what's true And speak when he is spoken to, And behave mannerly at table; At least as far as he is able.
MY BED IS A BOAT
My bed is like a little boat;
Nurse helps me in when I embark;
She girds me in my sailor's coat
And starts me in the dark.
At night, I go on board and say
Good night to all my friends on shore;
I shut my eyes and sail away,
And see and hear no more.
And sometimes things to bed I take,
As prudent sailors have to do;
Perhaps a slice of wedding cake,
Perhaps a toy or two.
All night across the dark we steer;
But when the day returns at last,
Safe in my room, beside the pier,
I find my vessel fast.
THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE
When I was sick and lay abed, I had two pillows at my head, And all my toys beside me lay To keep me happy all the day.
And sometimes for an hour or so I watched my leaden soldiers go, With different uniforms and drills, Among the bedclothes, through the hills;
And sometimes sent my ships in fleets All up and down among the sheets; Or brought my trees and houses out, And planted cities all about.
I was the giant great and still That sits upon the pillow hill, And sees before him, dale and plain, The pleasant land of counterpane.
THE LAND OF STORYBOOKS
At evening when the lamp is lit, Around the fire my parents sit; They sit at home and talk and sing, And do not play at anything.
Now, with my little gun, I crawl All in the dark along the wall, And follow round the forest track Away behind the sofa back.
There, in the night, where none can spy, All in my hunter's camp I lie, And play at books that I have read Till it is time to go to bed.
These are the hills, these are the woods, These are my starry solitudes; And there the river by whose brink The roaring lions come to drink.
I see the others far away As if in firelit camp they lay, And I, like to an Indian scout, Around their party prowled about.
So, when my nurse comes in for me, Home I return across the sea, And go to bed with backward looks At my dear Land of Storybooks.
LUCY LARCOM
IF I WERE A SUNBEAM
"If I were a sunbeam,
I know what I'd do;
I would seek white lilies,
Rainy woodlands through.
I would steal among them,
Softest light I'd shed,
Until every lily
Raised its drooping head.
"If I were a sunbeam,
I know where I'd go;
Into lowliest hovels,
Dark with want and woe:
Till sad hearts looked upward,
I would shine and shine;
Then they'd think of heaven,
Their sweet home and mine."
Art thou not a sunbeam,
Child, whose life is glad
With an inner radiance
Sunshine never had?
O, as God hath blessed thee,
Scatter rays divine!
For there is no sunbeam
But must die or shine.
THE RIVULET
Run, little rivulet, run!
Summer is fairly begun.
Bear to the meadow the hymn of the pines,
And the echo that rings where the waterfall shines;
Run, little rivulet, run!
Run, little rivulet, run!
Sing to the fields of the sun
That wavers in emerald, shimmers in gold,
Where you glide from your rocky ravine, crystal cold;
Run, little rivulet, run!
Run, little rivulet, run!
Sing of the flowers, every one,--
Of the delicate harebell and violet blue;
Of the red mountain rosebud, all dripping with dew;
Run, little rivulet, run!
Run, little rivulet, run!
Carry the perfume you won
From the lily, that woke when the morning was gray,
To the white waiting moonbeam adrift on the bay;
Run, little rivulet, run!
Run, little rivulet, run!
Stay not till summer is done!
Carry the city the mountain birds' glee;
Carry the joy of the hills to the sea;
Run, little rivulet, run!
THE BROWN THRUSH
There's a merry brown thrush sitting up in the tree. He's singing to me! He's singing to me! And what does he say, little girl, little boy? "Oh, the world's running over with joy! Don't you hear? Don't you see? Hush! Look! In my tree I'm as happy as happy can be!"
And the brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest do you see, And five eggs, hid by me in the juniper tree? Don't meddle! Don't touch! little girl, little boy, Or the world will lose some of its joy! Now I'm glad! now I'm free! And I always shall be, If you never bring sorrow to me."
So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree, To you and to me, to you and to me; And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy, "Oh, the world's running over with joy! But long it won't be, Don't you know? don't you see? Unless we are as good as can be!"
ANN AND JANE TAYLOR
MEDDLESOME MATTY
One ugly trick has often spoiled The sweetest and the best: Matilda, though a pleasant child, One grievous fault possessed, Which, like a cloud before the skies, Hid all her better qualities.
Sometimes she'd lift the teapot lid To peep at what was in it; Or tilt the kettle, if you did But turn your back a minute. In vain you told her not to touch, Her trick of meddling grew so much.
Her grandmamma went out one day And by mistake she laid Her spectacles and snuffbox gay Too near the little maid. "Ah! well," thought she, "I'll try them on As soon as grandmamma is gone."
Forthwith she placed upon her nose The glasses large and wide; And looking round, as I suppose, The snuffbox too she spied: "Oh! what a pretty box is that; I'll open it," said little Matt.
"I know that grandmamma would say, 'Don't meddle with it, dear'; But then, she's far enough away, And no one else is near. Besides, what can there be amiss In opening such a box as this?"
So thumb and finger went to work To move the stubborn lid, And presently a mighty jerk The mighty mischief did; For all at once, ah! woeful case. The snuff came puffing in her face.
Poor eyes and nose and mouth, beside, A dismal sight presented; In vain, as bitterly she cried, Her folly she repented; In vain she ran about for ease, She could do nothing now but sneeze.
She dashed the spectacles away To wipe her tingling eyes, And as in twenty bits they lay, Her grandmamma she spies. "Heyday! and what's the matter now?" Says grandmamma with lifted brow.
Matilda, smarting with the pain, And tingling still, and sore, Made many a promise to refrain From meddling evermore. And 'tis a fact, as I have heard, She ever since has kept her word.
THE VIOLET
Down in a green and shady bed
A modest violet grew,
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head,
As if to hide from view.
And yet it was a lovely flower,
Its color bright and fair;
It might have graced a rosy bower
Instead of hiding there.
Yet there it was content to bloom,
In modest tints arrayed;
And there diffused a sweet perfume
Within the silent shade.--
Then let me to the valley go
This pretty flower to see,
That I may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.
THE STAR
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.
When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
Then the traveler in the dark, Thanks you for your tiny spark! He could not see which way to go, If you did not twinkle so.
In the dark blue sky you keep, And often through my curtains peep, For you never shut your eye Till the sun is in the sky.
As your bright and tiny spark Lights the traveler in the dark, Though I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
THE WAY TO BE HAPPY
How pleasant it is at the end of the day, No follies to have to repent,
But reflect on the past and be able to say, My time has been properly spent!
When I've done all my business with patience and care, And been good, and obliging, and kind, I lie on my pillow and sleep away there, With a happy and peaceable mind.
Instead of all this, if it must be confest, That I careless and idle have been, I lie down as usual, and go to my rest, But feel discontented within.
Then as I dislike all the trouble I've had, In future I'll try to prevent it, For I never am naughty without being sad, Or good--without being contented.
ISAAC WATTS
AGAINST IDLENESS AND MISCHIEF
How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower!
How skillfully she builds her cell!
How neat she spreads her wax!
And labors hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.
In works of labor or of skill,
I would be busy too;
For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.
In books, or work, or healthful play,
Let my first years be past,
That I may give for every day
Some good account at last.
A MORNING SONG
My God, who makes the sun to know
His proper hour to rise,
And to give light to all below,
Doth send him round the skies.
When from the chambers of the east
His morning race begins,
He never tires, nor stops to rest,
But round the world he shines.
So, like the sun, would I fulfill
The business of the day:
Begin my work betimes, and still
March on my heavenly way.
Give me, O Lord, thy early grace,
Nor let my soul complain
That the young morning of my days
Has all been spent in vain.
A CRADLE HYMN
Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber!
Holy angels guard thybed!
Heavenly blessings without number
Gently falling on thy head.
Sleep, my babe; thy food and raiment,
House and home, thy friends provide;
All without thy care or payment,
All thy wants are well supplied.
How much better thou'rt attended
Than the Son of God could be,
When from heaven He descended,
And became a child like thee!
Soft and easy is thy cradle;
Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay,
When His birthplace was a stable,
And His softest bed was hay.
Lo, He slumbers in His manger,
Where the horned oxen fed;
Peace, my darling, here's no danger,
Here's no ox a-near thy bed.
Mayst thou live to know and fear Him,
Trust and love Him all thy days;
Then go dwell forever near Him,
See His face, and sing His praise!
LEWIS CARROLL
JABBERWOCKY
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimbel in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O Frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimbel in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
YOU ARE OLD, FATHER WILLIAM
"You are old, father William," the young man said
"And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head--
Do you think, at your age, it is right?"
"In my youth," father William replied to his son,
"I feared it might injure the brain;
But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."
"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door--
Pray, what is the reason of that?"
"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his gray locks,
"I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment--one shilling the box--
Allow me to sell you a couple?"
"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak--
Pray, how did you manage to do it?"
"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw
Has lasted the rest of my life."
"You are old," said the youth; "one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose--
What made you so awfully clever?"
"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
Said his father; "don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you downstairs!"
THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER
The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might;
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.
The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"
The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky;
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand--
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"
"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach;
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."
The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said;
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the Oyster bed.
But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat;
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.
Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low--
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.
"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.
"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need;
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."
"But not on us!" the Oysters cried, Turning a little blue. "After such kindness, that would be A dismal thing to do!" "The night is fine!" the Walrus said. "Do you admire the view?
"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but,
"Cut us another slice.
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"
"It seems a shame," the Walrus said.
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but,
"The butter's spread too thick!"
"I weep for you," the Walrus said;
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
"O Oysters", said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?"
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.
EDWARD LEAR
There was an Old Man of the West, Who never could get any rest; So they set him to spin on his nose and his chin. Which cured that Old Man of the West.
* * * * *
There was an Old Man with a beard, Who said, "It is just as I feared!-- Two Owls and a Hen, four Larks and a Wren, Have all built their nests in my beard!"
* * * * *
There was an Old Person of Dean, Who dined on one pea and one bean; For he said, "More than that would make me too fat," That cautious Old Person of Dean.
* * * * *
There was a Young Lady whose chin Resembled the point of a pin; So she had it made sharp, and purchased a harp, And played several tunes with her chin.
* * * * *
There is a Young Lady whose nose Continually prospers and grows; When it grew out of sight, she exclaimed in a fright, "Oh! Farewell to the end of my nose!"
THE OWL AND THE PUSSY-CAT
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat: They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note. The Owl looked up to the stars above, And sang to a small guitar, "O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love, What a beautiful Pussy you are, You are, You are! What a beautiful Pussy you are!"
Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing!
Oh! let us be married; too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the bong-tree grows;
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood,
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
THE JUMBLIES
They went to sea in a sieve, they did; In a sieve they went to sea: In spite of all their friends could say, On a winter's morn, on a stormy day, In a sieve they went to sea. And when the sieve turned round and round, And every one cried, "You'll all be drowned!" They called aloud, "Our sieve ain't big; But we don't care a button, we don't care a fig: In a sieve we'll go to sea!"
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live:
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue;
And they went to sea in a sieve.
They sailed away in a sieve, they did, In a sieve they sailed so fast, With only a beautiful pea-green veil Tied with a ribbon, by way of a sail, To a small tobacco-pipe mast. And every one said who saw them go, "Oh! won't they be soon upset, you know? For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long; And happen what may, it's extremely wrong In a sieve to sail so fast."
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live:
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue;
And they went to sea in a sieve.
The water it soon came in, it did; The water it soon came in: So, to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet In a pinky paper all folded neat; And they fastened it down with a pin. And they passed the night in a crockery-jar; And each of them said, "How wise we are! Though the night be dark, and the voyage be long, Yet we never can think we were rash or wrong, While round in our sieve we spin."
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live:
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue;
And they went to sea in a sieve.
And all night long they sailed away; And when the sun went down, They whistled and warbled a moony song To the echoing sound of a coppery gong, In the shade of the mountains brown. "O Timballo! How happy we are When we live in a sieve and a crockery jar! And all night long, in the moonlight pale, We sail away with a pea-green sail In the shade of the mountains brown."
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live:
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue;
And they went to sea in a sieve.
They sailed to the Western Sea, they did,-- To a land all covered with trees: And they bought an owl, and a useful cart, And a pound of rice, and a cranberry tart, And a hive of silvery bees; And they bought a pig, and some green jackdaws, And a lovely monkey with lollipop paws, And forty bottles of ring-bo-ree, And no end of Stilton cheese.
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live:
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue;
And they went to sea in a sieve.
And in twenty years they all came back,-- In twenty years or more; And every one said, "How tall they've grown! For they've been to the Lakes, and the Torrible Zone, And the hills of the Chankly Bore." And they drank their health, and gave them a feast Of dumplings made of beautiful yeast; And every one said, "If we only live, We, too, will go to sea in a sieve, To the hills of the Chankly Bore."
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live:
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue;
And they went to sea in a sieve.
BALLADS
POPULAR
BONNY BARBARA ALLAN
It was in and about the Martinmas time,
When the green leaves were a-falling,
That Sir John Graeme, in the West Country,
Fell in love with Barbara Allan.
He sent his man down through the town,
To the place where she was dwelling:
"O haste and come to my master dear,
Gin ye be Barbara Allan."
O hooly, hooly rose she up,
To the place where he was lying,
And when she drew the curtain by:
"Young man, I think you're dying."
"O it's I'm sick, and very, very sick,
And 'tis a' for Barabara Allan";
"O the better for me ye's never be,
Tho your heart's blood were a-spilling.
"Do you remember the other day,
When we were at the tavern drinking,
You drank a health to the ladies all,
And you slighted Barbara Allan?"
"Yes, I remember the other day,
When we were at the tavern drinking,
I drank a health to the ladies all,
And three to Barbara Allan."
"Do you remember the other night,
When we were at the ballroom dancing,
You gave your hand to the ladies all,
And slighted Barbara Allan?"
"Yes, I remember the other night,
When we were at the ballroom dancing,
I gave my hand to the ladies all,
And my heart to Barbara Allan."
He turned his face unto the wall,
And death was with him dealing:
"Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all.
And be kind to Barbara Allan."
And slowly, slowly raise she up,
And slowly, slowly left him,
And, sighing, said she could not stay,
Since death of life had reft him.
She had not gane a mile but twa, When she heard the dead-bell ringing, And every jow that the dead-bell geid, It cry'd, "Woe to Barbara Allan."
"O mother, mother, make my bed!
O make it saft and narrow!
Since my love died for me today,
I'll die for him tomorrow."
SIR PATRICK SPENCE
The king sits in Dunferling toune,
Drinking the blude-reid wine;
"O whar will I get a guid sailór
To sail this schip of mine?"
Up and spak an eldern knicht,
Sat at the king's richt kne:
"Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailór,
That sails upon the se."
The king has written a braid letter,
And signd it wi' his hand;
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence,
Was walking on the sand.
The first line that Sir Patrick red,
A loud lauch lauchéd he;
The next line that Sir Patrick red.
The teir blinded his ee.
"O wha is this has don this deid,
This ill deid don to me,
To send me out this time o' the yeir,
To sail upon the se!
"Mak haste, mak haste, my mirry men all,
Our guid schip sails the morne."
"O say na sae, my master deir,
For I feir a deadlie storme.
"Late late yestreen I saw the new moone,
Wi' the auld moone in his arme,
And I feir, I feir, my deir mastèr,
That we will com to harme."
O our Scots nobles wer richt laith
To weet their cork-heild schoone;
Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd,
Thair hats they swam aboone.
O lang, lang may their ladies sit,
Wi' thair fans into their hand,
Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spence
Cum sailing to the land.
O lang, lang may the ladies stand,
Wi' thair gold kerns in their hair,
Waiting for thair ain deir lords,
For they'll se thame na mair.
Half owre, half owre to Aberdour,
It's fiftie fadom deip,
And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence,
Wi' the Scots lords at his feit.
ROBIN HOOD AND ALLIN A DALE
Come listen to me, you gallants so free,
All you that loves mirth for to hear,
And I will tell you of a bold outlaw,
That lived in Nottinghamshire.
As Robin Hood in the forest stood,
All under the greenwood tree,
There was he ware of a brave young man,
As fine as fine might be.
The youngster was clothed in scarlet red,
In scarlet fine and gay;
And he did frisk it over the plain,
And chanted a roundelay.
As Robin Hood next morning stood,
Amongst the leaves so gay,
There did he espy the same young man
Come drooping along the way.
The scarlet he wore the day before,
It was clean cast away;
And at every step he fetcht a sigh,
"Alack and a well a day!"
Then stepped forth brave Little John,
And Nick the miller's son,
Which made the young man bend his bow,
When as he see them come.
"Stand off, stand off," the young man said,
"What is your will with me?"
"You must come before our master straight,
Under yon greenwood tree."
And when he came bold Robin before,
Robin askt him courteously,
"O hast thou any money to spare
For my merry men and me?"
"I have no money," the young man said,
"But five shillings and a ring;
And that I have kept this seven long years,
To have it at my wedding.
"Yesterday I should have married a maid,
But she is now from me tane,
And chosen to be an old knight's delight,
Whereby my poor heart is slain."
"What is thy name?" then said Robin Hood,
"Come tell me, without any fail":
"By the faith of my body," then said the young man,
"My name it is Allin a Dale."
"What wilt thou give me," said Robin Hood,
"In ready gold or fee,
To help thee to thy true-love again,
And deliver her unto thee?"
"I have no money," then quoth the young man,
"No ready gold nor fee,
But I will swear upon a book
Thy true servant for to be."
"How many miles is it to thy true-love?
Come tell me without any guile":
"By the faith of my body," then said the young man,
"It is but five little mile."
Then Robin he hasted over the plain,
He did neither stint nor lin,
Until he came unto the church,
Where Allin should keep his wedding.
"What dost thou do here?" the bishop he said,
"I prithee now tell to me":
"I am a bold harper," quoth Robin Hood,
"And the best in the north countrey."
"O welcome, O welcome," the bishop he said,
"That musick best pleaseth me":
"You shall have no musick," quoth Robin Hood,
"Till the bride and the bridegroom I see."
With that came in a wealthy knight,
Which was both grave and old,
And after him a finikin lass
Did shine like glistering gold.
"This is no fit match," quoth bold Robin Hood,
"That you do seem to make here;
For since we are come unto the church,
The bride she shall chuse her own dear."
Then Robin Hood put his horn to his mouth,
And blew blasts two or three;
When four and twenty bowmen bold
Came leaping over the lee.
And when they came into the church-yard,
Marching all on a row,
The first man was Allin a Dale,
To give bold Robin his bow.
"This is thy true-love," Robin he said,
"Young Allin, as I hear say:
And you shall be married at this same time,
Before we depart away."
"That shall not be," the bishop he said,
"For thy word shall not stand;
They shall be three times askt in the church,
As the law is of our land."
Robin Hood pulld off the bishop's coat,
And put it upon Little John;
"By the faith of my body," then Robin said,
"This cloath doth make thee a man."
When Little John went into the quire,
The people began for to laugh;
He askt them seven times in the church,
Lest three times should not be enough.
"Who gives me this maid?" then said Little John;
Quoth Robin, "That do I,
And he that doth take her from Allin a Dale
Full dearly he shall her buy."
And thus having ended this merry wedding,
The bride lookt as fresh as a queen,
And so they returned to the merry greenwood,
Amongst the leaves so green.
KINMONT WILLIE
O! have ye na heard o' the fause Sakelde?
O! have ye na heard o' the keen Lord Scroope?
How they hae taen bauld Kinmont Willie
On Haribee to hang him up?
Had Willie had but twenty men,
But twenty men as stout as he,
Fause Sakelde had never the Kinmont ta'en,
Wi' eight score in his companie.
They band his legs beneath the steed,
They tied his hands behind his back;
They guarded him, fivesome on each side,
And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack.
They led him thro' the Liddel-rack,
And also thro' the Carlisle sands;
They brought him to Carlisle castell,
To be at my Lord Scroope's commands.
"My hands are tied, but my tongue is free,
And whae will dare this deed avow?
Or answer by the border law?
Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch?"
"Now baud thy tongue, thou rank reiver!
There's never a Scot shall set thee free;
Before ye cross my castle yate,
I trow ye shall take farewell o' me."
"Fear na ye that, my lord," quo' Willie;
"By the faith o' my bodie, Lord Scroope," he said,
"I never yet lodged in a hostelrie
But I paid my lawing before I gaed."
Now word is gane to the bauld Keeper,
In Branksome Ha', where that he lay,
That Lord Scroope has ta'en the Kinmont Willie,
Between the hours of night and day.
He has ta'en the table wi' his hand,
He garr'd the red wine spring on hie--
"Now Christ's curse on my head," he said,
"But avenged of Lord Scroope I'll be!
"Oh is my basnet a widow's curch?
Or my lance a wand of the willow-tree?
Or my arm a ladye's lilye hand,
That an English lord should lightly me?
"And have they ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,
Against the truce of the Bordertide?
And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch
Is keeper here on the Scottish side?
"And have they e'en ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,
Withouten either dread or fear?
And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch
Can back a steed, or shake a spear?
"O were there war between the lands,
As well I wot that there is none,
I would slight Carlisle castell high,
Tho it were builded of marble stone.
"I would set that castell in a low,
And sloken it with English blood!
There's never a man in Cumberland
Should ken where Carlisle castell stood.
"But since nae war's between the lands,
And there is peace, and peace should be;
I'll neither harm English lad or lass,
And yet the Kinmont freed shall be!"
He has call'd him forty Marchmen bauld.
I trow they were of his ain name,
Except Sir Gilbert Elliot, call'd
The Laird of Stobs, I mean the same.
He has call'd him forty Marchmen bauld,
Were kinsmen to the bauld Buccleuch;
With spur on heel, and splent on spauld;
And gleuves of green, and feathers blue.
There were five and five before them a',
Wi' hunting-horns and bugles bright,
And five and five came wi' Buccleuch
Like warden's men, array'd for fight;
And five and five, like a mason gang,
That carried the ladders lang and hie;
And five and five, like broken men,
And so they reach'd the Woodhouselee.
And as we cross'd the Bateable Land,
When to the English side we held,
The first o' men that we met wi',
Whae sould it be but fause Sakelde?
"Where be ye gaun, ye hunters keen?"
Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell to me!"--
"We go to hunt an English stag,
Has trespass'd on the Scots countrie."
"Where be ye gaun, ye marshal men?"
Quo' fause Sakelde; "come tell me true!"--
"We go to catch a rank reiver,
Has broken faith wi' the bauld Buccleuch."
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Types of Children's LiteratureChapter IV: Appendix: Notes (1)
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