There's that old hag Moll Brown, look, see, just past!I wish the ugly sly old witchWould tumble over in the ditch;I wouldn't pick her out not very fast.I don't think she's belied, 'tis clear's the sunThat she's a witch if ever there was one.Yes, I do know just hereabout of twoOr three folk that have learnt what Moll can do.She did, one time, a pretty deal of harmTo Farmer Gruff's folks, down at Lower Farm.One day, you know, they happen'd to offend her,And not a little to their sorrow,Because they would not give or lend herThe thing she came to beg or borrow;And so, you know, they soon began to findThat she'd a-left her evil wish behind.She soon bewitch'd them; and she had such power,That she did make their milk and ale turn sour,And addle all the eggs their fowls did lay;They couldn't fetch the butter in the churn,And cheeses soon began to turnAll back again to curds and whey.The little pigs a-running with the sowDid sicken somehow, nobody knew how,And fall, and turn their snouts towards the sky,And only give one little grunt and die;And all the little ducks and chickenWere death-struck while they were a-pickin'Their food, and fell upon their head,And flapp'd their wings and dropp'd down dead.They couldn't fat the calves; they wouldn't thrive;They couldn't save their lambs alive;Their sheep all took the rot and gave no wool;Their horses fell away to skin and bones,And got so weak they couldn't pullA half a peck of stones;The dog got dead-alive and drowsy,The cat fell sick and wouldn't mousey;And if the wretched souls went up to bedThe hag did come and ride them all half dead.They used to keep her out o' the house 'tis true,A-nailing up at door a horse's shoe;And I've a-heard the farmer's wife did tryTo drive a needle or a pinIn through her old hard wither'd skinAnd draw her blood, a-coming by;But she could never fetch a drop,She bent the pin and broke the needle's topAgainst her skin, you know, and that, in course,Did only make the hag bewitch them worse.
There's that old hag Moll Brown, look, see, just past!I wish the ugly sly old witchWould tumble over in the ditch;I wouldn't pick her out not very fast.I don't think she's belied, 'tis clear's the sunThat she's a witch if ever there was one.Yes, I do know just hereabout of twoOr three folk that have learnt what Moll can do.She did, one time, a pretty deal of harmTo Farmer Gruff's folks, down at Lower Farm.One day, you know, they happen'd to offend her,And not a little to their sorrow,Because they would not give or lend herThe thing she came to beg or borrow;And so, you know, they soon began to findThat she'd a-left her evil wish behind.She soon bewitch'd them; and she had such power,That she did make their milk and ale turn sour,And addle all the eggs their fowls did lay;They couldn't fetch the butter in the churn,And cheeses soon began to turnAll back again to curds and whey.The little pigs a-running with the sowDid sicken somehow, nobody knew how,And fall, and turn their snouts towards the sky,And only give one little grunt and die;And all the little ducks and chickenWere death-struck while they were a-pickin'Their food, and fell upon their head,And flapp'd their wings and dropp'd down dead.They couldn't fat the calves; they wouldn't thrive;They couldn't save their lambs alive;Their sheep all took the rot and gave no wool;Their horses fell away to skin and bones,And got so weak they couldn't pullA half a peck of stones;The dog got dead-alive and drowsy,The cat fell sick and wouldn't mousey;And if the wretched souls went up to bedThe hag did come and ride them all half dead.They used to keep her out o' the house 'tis true,A-nailing up at door a horse's shoe;And I've a-heard the farmer's wife did tryTo drive a needle or a pinIn through her old hard wither'd skinAnd draw her blood, a-coming by;But she could never fetch a drop,She bent the pin and broke the needle's topAgainst her skin, you know, and that, in course,Did only make the hag bewitch them worse.
W. Barnes
Jenny Wren fell sick;Upon a merry time,In came Robin Redbreast,And brought her sops of wineEat well of the sop, Jenny,Drink well of the wine;Thank you Robin kindly,You shall be mine.Jenny she got well,And stood upon her feet,And told Robin plainlyShe loved him not a bit.Robin, being angry,Hopp'd on a twig,Saying, Out upon you,Fye upon you, bold-faced jig!
Jenny Wren fell sick;Upon a merry time,In came Robin Redbreast,And brought her sops of wine
Eat well of the sop, Jenny,Drink well of the wine;Thank you Robin kindly,You shall be mine.
Jenny she got well,And stood upon her feet,And told Robin plainlyShe loved him not a bit.
Robin, being angry,Hopp'd on a twig,Saying, Out upon you,Fye upon you, bold-faced jig!
There were three jovial Welshmen,As I have heard them say,And they would go a-huntingUpon St. David's day.All the day they hunted,And nothing could they find,But a ship a-sailing,A-sailing with the wind.One said it was a ship,The other he said, nay;The third said it was a house,With the chimney blown away.And all night they hunted,And nothing could they find,But the moon a-gliding,A-gliding with the wind.One said it was the moon,The other he said, nay;The third said it was a cheese,And half o't cut away.
There were three jovial Welshmen,As I have heard them say,And they would go a-huntingUpon St. David's day.
All the day they hunted,And nothing could they find,But a ship a-sailing,A-sailing with the wind.
One said it was a ship,The other he said, nay;The third said it was a house,With the chimney blown away.
And all night they hunted,And nothing could they find,But the moon a-gliding,A-gliding with the wind.
One said it was the moon,The other he said, nay;The third said it was a cheese,And half o't cut away.
There was an old woman, as I've heard tell,She went to market her eggs for to sell;She went to market all on a market day;And she fell asleep on the king's highway.There came by a pedlar whose name was Stout,He cut her petticoats all round about;He cut her petticoats up to the knees,Which made the old woman to shiver and freeze.When this little woman first did wake,She began to shiver and she began to shake.She began to wonder and she began to cry,'Lauk-a-mercy on me, this is none of I:'But if it be I, as I do hope it be,I've a little dog at home, and he'll know me;If it be I, he'll wag his little tail,And if it be not I, he'll loudly bark and wail!'Home went the little woman all in the dark,Up got the little dog, and he began to bark;He began to bark, so she began to cry,'Lauk-a-mercy on me, this is none of I!'
There was an old woman, as I've heard tell,She went to market her eggs for to sell;She went to market all on a market day;And she fell asleep on the king's highway.
There came by a pedlar whose name was Stout,He cut her petticoats all round about;He cut her petticoats up to the knees,Which made the old woman to shiver and freeze.
When this little woman first did wake,She began to shiver and she began to shake.She began to wonder and she began to cry,'Lauk-a-mercy on me, this is none of I:
'But if it be I, as I do hope it be,I've a little dog at home, and he'll know me;If it be I, he'll wag his little tail,And if it be not I, he'll loudly bark and wail!'
Home went the little woman all in the dark,Up got the little dog, and he began to bark;He began to bark, so she began to cry,'Lauk-a-mercy on me, this is none of I!'
If all the world was apple-pie,And all the sea was ink,And all the trees were bread and cheese,What should we have to drink?
If all the world was apple-pie,And all the sea was ink,And all the trees were bread and cheese,What should we have to drink?
There was a little boy and a little girlLived in an alley;Says the little boy to the little girl,'Shall I, oh! shall I?'Says the little girl to the little boy,'What shall we do?'Says the little boy to the little girl,'I will kiss you!'
There was a little boy and a little girlLived in an alley;Says the little boy to the little girl,'Shall I, oh! shall I?'
Says the little girl to the little boy,'What shall we do?'Says the little boy to the little girl,'I will kiss you!'
if they had still wit to understand it
Laid in my quiet bed in study as I wereI saw within my troubled head a heap of thoughts appear,And every thought did show so lively in mine eyes,That now I sigh'd, and then I smiled, as cause of thoughts did rise.I saw the little boy, in thought how oft that heDid wish of God, to 'scape the rod, a tall young man to be,The young man eke that feels his bones with pain opprest,How he would be a rich old man, to live and lie at rest!The rich old man that sees his end draw on so sore,How would he be a boy again to live so much the more.Whereat full oft I smiled, to see how all those three,From boy to man, from man to boy, would chop and change degree.
Laid in my quiet bed in study as I wereI saw within my troubled head a heap of thoughts appear,And every thought did show so lively in mine eyes,That now I sigh'd, and then I smiled, as cause of thoughts did rise.I saw the little boy, in thought how oft that heDid wish of God, to 'scape the rod, a tall young man to be,The young man eke that feels his bones with pain opprest,How he would be a rich old man, to live and lie at rest!The rich old man that sees his end draw on so sore,How would he be a boy again to live so much the more.Whereat full oft I smiled, to see how all those three,From boy to man, from man to boy, would chop and change degree.
Earl of Surrey
It is not growing like a treeIn bulk, doth make man better be;Or standing long an oak three hundred year,To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere;A lily of a dayIs fairer far in May,Although it fall and die that night—It was the plant and flower of Light.In small proportions we just beauty see;And in short measures life may perfect be.
It is not growing like a treeIn bulk, doth make man better be;Or standing long an oak three hundred year,To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere;A lily of a dayIs fairer far in May,Although it fall and die that night—It was the plant and flower of Light.In small proportions we just beauty see;And in short measures life may perfect be.
B. Jonson
My heart leaps up when I beholdA rainbow in the sky;So was it when my life began;So is it now I am a man;So be it when I shall grow old,Or let me die!The child is father of the man;And I could wish my days to beBound each to each by natural piety.
My heart leaps up when I beholdA rainbow in the sky;So was it when my life began;So is it now I am a man;So be it when I shall grow old,Or let me die!The child is father of the man;And I could wish my days to beBound each to each by natural piety.
W. Wordsworth
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Transcriber's NoteArchaic and variable spelling was preserved as printed.Missing quotation marks were added to standardize usage. Otherwise, the editor's punctuation style was preserved.Authors' and First Lines' Indices were updated to match poems.As noted in the Preface, some poems have been altered from the original by Patmore for content and length.
Transcriber's Note
Archaic and variable spelling was preserved as printed.Missing quotation marks were added to standardize usage. Otherwise, the editor's punctuation style was preserved.Authors' and First Lines' Indices were updated to match poems.As noted in the Preface, some poems have been altered from the original by Patmore for content and length.