The House that Jack Built. |
This is the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the cat,
That kill'd the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the dog,
That worried the cat,
That kill'd the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the cow with the crumpled horn,
That toss'd the dog,
That worried the cat,
That kill'd the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the maiden all forlorn,
That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn,
That toss'd the dog,
That worried the cat,
That kill'd the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the man all tatter'd and torn,
That kiss'd the maiden all forlorn,
That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn,
That toss'd the dog,
That worried the cat,
That kill'd the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tatter'd and torn,
That kiss'd the maiden all forlorn,
That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn,
That toss'd the dog,
That worried the cat,
That kill'd the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the cock that crow'd in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tatter'd and torn,
That kiss'd the maiden all forlorn,
That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn,
That toss'd the dog,
That worried the cat,
That kill'd the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the farmer who sow'd the corn,
That kept the cock that crow'd in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tatter'd and torn,
That kiss'd the maiden all forlorn,
That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn,
That toss'd the dog,
That worried the cat,
That kill'd the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the horse, and the hound, and the horn,
That belong'd to the farmer who sow'd the corn,
That kept the cock that crow'd in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tatter'd and torn,
That kiss'd the maiden all forlorn,
That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn,
That toss'd the dog,
That worried the cat,
That kill'd the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.
THE STORY
OF THE Death & Burial of Cock Robin. Edited by Madame de Chatelain.
THE STORY OF THE Death and Burial of Cock Robin. Who kill'd Cock robin?
I, said the Sparrow,
With my bow and arrow,
I kill'd Cock Robin.
Who saw him die?
I, said the Fly,
With my little eye,
I saw him die.
Who caught his blood?
I, said the Fish,
With my little dish,
I caught his blood.
Who'll make his shroud?
I, said the Beetle,
With my little needle,
I'll make his shroud.
Who'll dig his grave?
I, said the Owl,
With my spade and showl,
I'll dig his grave.
Who'll be the parson?
I, said the Rook,
With my little book,
I'll be the parson.
Who'll be the clerk?
I, said the Lark,
If it's not in the dark,
I'll be the clerk.
Who'll carry him to the grave?
I, said the Kite,
If it's not in the night,
I'll carry him to the grave.
Who'll carry the link?
I, said the Linnet,
I'll fetch it in a minute,
I'll carry the link.
Who'll be chief mourner?
I, said the Dove,
For I mourn for my love,
I'll be chief mourner.
Who'll sing a psalm?
I, said the Thrush,
As I sit in a bush,
I'll sing a psalm.
Who'll toll the bell?
I, said the Bull,
Because I can pull,
So, Cock Robin, farewell.
All the birds of the air
Fell a sighing and sobbing,
When they heard the bell toll
For poor Cock Robin. Transcriber's note: There was no Table of Contents in the original, one has been added in this etext. |
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