‘Excuse me for shouting! Don’t waggle your head
‘Like a blundering, sleepy old cow!
‘A little maid dwelling in Wallington Town,
‘Is my friend, so I beg to remark:
‘Do you think she’d be pleased if a book were sent down
‘Entitled ‘The Hunt of the Snark?”
‘Pack it up in brown paper!’ the old man cried,
‘And seal it with olive-and-dove.
‘I command you to do it!’ he added with pride,
‘Nor forget, my good fellow to send her beside
‘Easter Greetings, and give her my love.’
He laughed aloud for very glee:There came a breeze from off the sea:It passed athwart the glooming flat –It fanned his forehead as he sat –It lightly bore away his hat,All to the feet of one who stoodLike maid enchanted in a wood,Frowning as darkly as she could.With huge umbrella, lank and brown,Unerringly she pinned…
sound was heard in the old henhouse,A beating of a hammer.Of stalwart form, and visage warm,Two youths were seen within it,Splitting up an old tree into perches for their poultryAt a hundred strokes a minute.The work is done, the hen has takenPossession of her nest and eggs,Without a thought of eggs and bacon,(Or I am…
Who scoure ye playne yn headye courseTyll soddayne on theyre noseThey lyghte wyth unexpected forceYt ys – a horse of clothes.I have a saddel – ‘Say’st thou soe?Wyth styrruppes, Knyghte, to boote?’I sayde not that – I answere ‘Noe’ –Yt lacketh such, I woote:Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe!Parte of ye fleecye brute.I have a bytte…
Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six:Sitting down to lessons – no more time for tricks.Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven:Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen:Each young man that calls, I say ‘Now tell me which you MEAN!’Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one:But, if…
Reading with attentive eyeIts enticing history,Never think that hours of playAre your only HOLIDAY,And that in a HOUSE of joyLessons serve but to annoy:If in any HOUSE you findChildren of a gentle mind,Each the others pleasing ever–Each the others vexing never–Daily work and pastime dailyIn their order taking gaily–Then be very sure that theyHave a…
I saw an aged aged man,A-sitting on a gate.‘Who are you, aged man?’ I said,‘And how is it you live?’And his answer trickled through my headLike water through a sieve.He said, ‘I look for butterfliesThat sleep among the wheat:I make them into mutton-pies,And sell them in the street.I sell them unto men,’ he said,‘Who sail…
