Buy A Broom

From Deutschland I come with my light wares all laden,
To dear happy England in summer's gay bloom;
Then listen, fair lady, and young pretty mädchen,
Come buy of the wandering Baierin a broom;
A large one for the lady, and a small one for the baby,
Come buy ye, pretty lady, come buy ye a broom.

Walter Crane

Walter Crane was an English artist and book illustrator, considered to be one of the most prolific and influential children's book creators of his generation. Born on August 15, 1845, and passing away on March 14, 1915, he was part of the Arts and Crafts movement and is known for his innovative contributions to children's literature. His work often combined art and poetry, aiming to educate and delight young readers.

Walter Crane

Hot Cross Buns

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

Old Mother Hubbard

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

I Had A Little Nut-Tree

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

The Two Jars

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

My Pretty Maid

1.
"Where are you going to, my pretty maid?
Where are you going to, my pretty maid?"
"I'm going a-milking, Sir," she said,
"Sir," she said, "Sir," she said,
"I'm going a-milking, Sir," she said.

2.
"Shall I go with you, my pretty maid?"
"Yes, if you please, kind Sir," she said,
"Sir," she said, "Sir," she said,
"Yes, if you please, kind Sir," she said.

3.
"What is your fortune, my pretty maid?"
"My face is my fortune, Sir," she said,
"Sir," she said, "Sir," she said,
"My face is my fortune, Sir," she said.

4.
"Then I can't marry you, my pretty maid."
"Nobody asked you, Sir," she said,
"Sir," she said, "Sir," she said,
"Nobody asked you, Sir," she said.

Walter Crane

Little Man & Maid

1

There was a little man
And he woo'd a little maid,
And he said, "Little maid, will you wed, wed, wed?
I have little more to say
Than 'will you, yea or nay?'
For least said is soonest mended-ded-ded-ded."

2

The little maid replied,
(Some say a little sighed,)
"But what shall we have to eat, eat, eat?
"Will the love that you're rich in
"Make a fire in the kitchen?
"Or the little god of love turn the spit, spit, spit?"

Walter Crane

Who'll Buy Gods Of Love?

OF all the beauteous wares
Exposed for sale at fairs,
None will give more delight
Than those that to your sight
From distant lands we bring.
Oh, hark to what we sing!
These beauteous birds behold,
They're brought here to be sold.

And first the big one see,
So full of roguish glee!
With light and merry bound
He leaps upon the ground;
Then springs up on the bougd,
We will not praise him now.
The merry bird behold,
He's brought here to be sold.

And now the small one see!
A modest look has he,
And yet he's such apother
As his big roguish brother.
'Tis chiefly when all's still
He loves to show his will.
The bird so small and bold,
He's brought here to be sold.

Observe this little love,
This darling turt...

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The Broomfield Hill

The Text is taken from Scott's Minstrelsy (1803). It would be of great interest if we could be sure that the reference to 'Hive Hill' in 8.1 was from genuine Scots tradition. In Wager's comedy The Longer thou Lived the more Fool thou art (about 1568) Moros sings a burden:--

    'Brome, brome on hill,
    The gentle brome on hill, hill,
    Brome, brome on Hive hill,
    The gentle brome on Hive hill,
    The brome stands on Hive hill a.'

Before this date 'Brume, brume on hil' is mentioned in The Complaynt of Scotlande, 1549; and a similar song was among Captain Cox's 'ballets and songs, all auncient.'


The Story, of a youth challenging a maid, and losing his wager by being laid asleep with witchcraft, is popular and widespread. In the Gesta Romanorum is ...

Frank Sidgwick

My Lady's Garden

How does my lady's garden grow?
How does my lady's garden grow?
With silver bells, and cockle shells,
And pretty maids all in a row!

Walter Crane

The Fancy Fair.

Come, maids and youths, for here we sell
    All wondrous things of earth and air;
Whatever wild romancers tell,
    Or poets sing, or lovers swear,
    You'll find at this our Fancy Fair.

Here eyes are made like stars to shine,
    And kept for years in such repair,
That even when turned of thirty-nine,
    They'll hardly look the worse for wear,
    If bought at this our Fancy Fair.

We've lots of tears for bards to shower,
    And hearts that such ill usage bear,
That, tho' they're broken every hour,
    They'll still in rhyme fresh breaking bear,
    If purchased at our Fancy Fair.

As fashions change in every thing,
    We've goods to suit each season's air,
Eternal friendships for the spring,
    And endless loves for summer wea...

Thomas Moore