THE OWL AND THE PUSSY-CAT.
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to seaIn a beautiful pea-green boat;They took some honey, and plenty of moneyWrapped in a five pound note.The Owl looked up to the moon above,And sang to a small guitar,“O lovely pussy! O Pussy, my love,What a beautiful Pussy you are,—You are,What a beautiful Pussy you are!”Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!How wonderful sweet you sing!O 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 dayTo the land where the Bong tree growsAnd there in a wood, a piggy-wig stoodWith a ring at the end of his nose,—His nose,With a ring at the end of his nose.“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for a shillingYour ring?” Said the piggy, “I will.”So they took it away and were married next dayBy the turkey who lives on the hill.They dined upon mince and slices of quince,Which they ate with a runcible spoon,And hand in hand on the edge of the sandThey danced by the light of the moon,—The moon,They danced by the light of the moon.
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to seaIn a beautiful pea-green boat;They took some honey, and plenty of moneyWrapped in a five pound note.The Owl looked up to the moon above,And sang to a small guitar,“O lovely pussy! O Pussy, my love,What a beautiful Pussy you are,—You are,What a beautiful Pussy you are!”Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!How wonderful sweet you sing!O 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 dayTo the land where the Bong tree growsAnd there in a wood, a piggy-wig stoodWith a ring at the end of his nose,—His nose,With a ring at the end of his nose.“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for a shillingYour ring?” Said the piggy, “I will.”So they took it away and were married next dayBy the turkey who lives on the hill.They dined upon mince and slices of quince,Which they ate with a runcible spoon,And hand in hand on the edge of the sandThey danced by the light of the moon,—The moon,They danced by the light of the moon.
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to seaIn a beautiful pea-green boat;They took some honey, and plenty of moneyWrapped in a five pound note.The Owl looked up to the moon above,And sang to a small guitar,“O lovely pussy! O Pussy, my love,What a beautiful Pussy you are,—You are,What a beautiful Pussy you are!”
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat;
They took some honey, and plenty of money
Wrapped in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the moon above,
And sang to a small guitar,
“O lovely pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,—
You are,
What a beautiful Pussy you are!”
Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!How wonderful sweet you sing!O 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 dayTo the land where the Bong tree growsAnd there in a wood, a piggy-wig stoodWith a ring at the end of his nose,—His nose,With a ring at the end of his nose.
Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!
How wonderful sweet you sing!
O 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,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for a shillingYour ring?” Said the piggy, “I will.”So they took it away and were married next dayBy the turkey who lives on the hill.They dined upon mince and slices of quince,Which they ate with a runcible spoon,And hand in hand on the edge of the sandThey danced by the light of the moon,—The moon,They danced by the light of the moon.
“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for a 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 upon 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,
They danced by the light of the moon.
—Edward Lear.
I would not enter on my list of friends,Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,Yet wanting sensibility, the manWho needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
I would not enter on my list of friends,Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,Yet wanting sensibility, the manWho needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
I would not enter on my list of friends,Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,Yet wanting sensibility, the manWho needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
I would not enter on my list of friends,
Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,
Yet wanting sensibility, the man
Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
—William Cowper.