King Cole

Old King Cole was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Ev'ry fiddler had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he.

Tweedle dee, tweedle dee, tweedle dee, tweedle dee,
Tweedle dee, tweedle dee, went the fiddlers three,
O there's none so rare as can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three.

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

Zwei Hasen

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

Gefunden

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

Ye Fairy Ship

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

Warm Hands

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

English

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Nursery Rhyme. I. Historical - Old King Cole

    Old King Cole
    Was a merry old soul,
    And a merry old soul was he;
    He called for his pipe,
    And he called for his bowl,
    And he called for his fiddlers three.
    Every fiddler, he had a fiddle,
    And a very fine fiddle had he;
    Twee tweedle dee, tweedle dee, went the fiddlers.
    Oh, there's none so rare,
    As can compare
    With King Cole and his fiddlers three!

Unknown

Hey Diddle Diddle

Hey diddle diddle! the cat and the fiddle,
The cow skipt over the moon;
The little dog laughed to see the fine sport,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.

Walter Crane

Lavender's Blue

1.
Lavender's blue, diddle, diddle!
Lavender's green;
When I am king, diddle, diddle!
You shall be queen.

2.
Call up your men, diddle, diddle!
Set them to work;
Some to the plough, diddle, diddle!
Some to the cart.

3.
Some to make hay, diddle, diddle!
Some to cut corn;
While you and I, diddle, diddle!
Keep ourselves warm.

Walter Crane

Fiddle-Dee-Dee

There once was a bird that lived up in a tree,
And all he could whistle was "Fiddle-dee-dee" -
A very provoking, unmusical song
For one to be whistling the summer day long!
Yet always contented and busy was he
With that vocal recurrence of "Fiddle-dee-dee."

Hard by lived a brave little soldier of four,
That weird iteration repented him sore;
"I prithee, Dear-Mother-Mine! fetch me my gun,
For, by our St. Didy! the deed must be done
That shall presently rid all creation and me
Of that ominous bird and his 'Fiddle-dee-dee'!"

Then out came Dear-Mother-Mine, bringing her son
His awfully truculent little red gun;
The stock was of pine and the barrel of tin,
The "bang" it came out where the bullet went in -
The right kind of weapon I think you'll agree

Eugene Field

The Corn-Stalk Fiddle

When the corn 's all cut and the bright stalks shine
Like the burnished spears of a field of gold;
When the field-mice rich on the nubbins dine,
And the frost comes white and the wind blows cold;
Then it's heigho! fellows and hi-diddle-diddle,
For the time is ripe for the corn-stalk fiddle.

And you take a stalk that is straight and long,
With an expert eye to its worthy points,
And you think of the bubbling strains of song
That are bound between its pithy joints--
Then you cut out strings, with a bridge in the middle,
With a corn-stalk bow for a corn-stalk fiddle.

Then the strains that grow as you draw the bow
O'er the yielding strings with a practised hand!
And the music's flow never loud but low
Is the concert note of a fairy band.
Oh, your daint...

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Dickory Dock

Hickory, dickory dock!
The mouse ran up the clock;
The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down,
Hickory, dickory dock!

Walter Crane