#English #Victorians
On the top of the Crumpetty Tree The Quangle Wangle sat, But his face you could not see, On account of his Beaver Hat. For his Hat was a hundred and two…
She sate upon her Dobie, To watch the Evening Star, And all the Punkahs as they passe… Cried, ‘My! how fair you are!’ Around her bower, with quivering l…
There was an Old Man of Coblenz, The length of whose legs was immen… He went with one prance From Turkey to France, That surprising Old Man of Coble…
There was an Old Man of Cape Hor… Who wished he had never been born; So he sat on a chair, Till he died of despair, That dolorous Man of Cape Horn.
There was a young person whose his… Was always considered a mystery. She sate in a ditch, Although no one knew which, And composed a small treatise on h…
There was a Young Lady of Sweden… Who went by the slow rain to Weed… When they cried, ‘Weedon Station!… She made no observation But thought she should go back to…
There was an Old Man of the Dee, Who was sadly annoyed by a flea; When he said, ‘I will scratch it,… They gave him a hatchet, Which grieved that Old Man of the…
There lived an old man in the Kin… Who invented a purely original dre… And when it was perfectly made and… He opened the door and walked into… By way of a hat he’d a loaf of Br…
Who, or why, or which, or what, I… Is he tall or short, or dark or fa… Does he sit on a stool or a sofa o… &nb sp; or SQUAT, The Akond of Swat?
On the Coast of Coromandel Where the early pumpkins blow, In the middle of the woods Lived the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò. Two old chairs, and half a candle,…
There was a Young Person of Smyr… Whose Grandmother threatened to b… But she seized on the cat, And said, ‘Granny, burn that! You incongruous Old Woman of Smy…
There was an Old Person of Dutto… Whose head was as small as a butto… So, to make it look big, He purchased a wig, And rapidly rushed about Dutton.
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo, ‘Good gracious! how you hop! Over the fields and the water too, As if you never would stop! My life is a bore in this nasty po…
center A was once an apple pie, Pidy Widy Tidy
O my aged Uncle Arly! Sitting on a heap of Barley Thro’ the silent hours of night, Close beside a leafy thicket: On his nose there was a Cricket,
