Translated by Charles Timothy Brooks
WHEN the worthy Widow Tibbets
(Whom the cut below exhibits)
Had recovered, on the morrow,
From the dreadful shock of sorrow,
She (as soon as grief would let her
Think) began to think ’t were better
Just to take the dead, the dear ones
(Who in life were walking here once),
And in a still...
Translated by Charles Timothy Brooks
THROUGH the town and country round
Was one Mr. Buck renowned.
Sunday coats, and week-day sack-coats,
Bob-tails, swallow-tails, and frock coats,
Gaiters, breeches, hunting-jackets;
Waistcoats, with commodious pockets,—
And other things, too long to mention,
Claimed Mr. Tailor Buck’s attention....
Translated by Charles Timothy Brooks
MAX and Maurice! I grow sick,
When I think on your last trick.
Why must these two scalawags
Cut those gashes in the bags?
See! the farmer on his back
Carries corn off in a sack.
Scarce has he begun to travel,
When the corn runs out like gravel.
All at once he stops and cries:
“...
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 be drowned!”
They called aloud, “Our sieve ain’t big:
But we don’t care a button...
There was a monkey climbed up a tree,
When he fell down, then down full he.
There was a crow sat on a stone,
When he was gone, then there was none.
There was an old wife did eat an apple,
When she had eat two, she had eat a couple.
There was a horse going to the mill,
When he went on, he stood not still.
There was a...
The Lion is the beast to fight,
He leaps along the plain,
And if you run with all your might,
He runs with all his mane.
I ’m glad I ’m not a Hottentot,
But if I were, with outward cal-lum
I ’d either faint upon the spot
Or hie me up a leafy pal-lum.
The chamois is the beast to hunt;...
From “a Book of Nonsense”
THERE was an Old Man with a nose,
Who said, “If you choose to suppose
That my nose is too long, you are certainly wrong!”
That remarkable Man with a nose.
There was a Young Person of Smyrna,
Whose Grandmother threatened to burn her;
But she seized on the Cat, and said, “Granny, burn that!
You incongruous...
There was a small boy of Quebec,
Who was buried in snow to his neck;
When they said. “Are you friz?”
He replied, “Yes, I is—
But we don’t call this cold in Quebec.”
There was a young lady of Niger
Who smiled as she rode on a Tiger;
They came back from the ride
With the lady inside,
And the smile on the face of the Tiger.* * * * *
There was a young maid who said, “Why
Can’t I look in my ear with my eye?
If I give my mind to it,
I ’m sure I can do it—...
My story ’s ended,
My spoon is bended:
If you don’t like it,
Go to the next door
And get it mended.
16th Century.
