Mistaken Identity

There was a young fellow named Paul,
Who went to a fancy dress ball;
    They say, just for fun
    He dressed up like a bun,
And was "et" by a dog in the hall.

Unknown

The identity of this poet is not known. Their works, which are often of significant historical or cultural value, have been attributed to 'Unknown'. This designation is commonly used when the creator of works, ranging from ancient texts to more modern writings, remains anonymous or uncredited. Despite the lack of personal details, the impact and importance of these works endure, offering insight into the eras and cultures from which they originated.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DCII. Local.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. DCXLVIII. Relics.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. CXLV. Songs.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. CCCCXXXII. Jingles.

Unknown , 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.

Blunders

There was a young man from the city,
Who met what he thought was a kitty;
    He gave it a pat,
    And said, "Nice little cat!"
And they buried his clothes out of pity.

Unknown

Etiquet

There was a young man so benighted,
He never knew when he was slighted;
    He would go to a party,
    And eat just as hearty,
As if he'd been really invited.

Unknown

Society

There was a young person called Smarty,
Who sent out his cards for a party;
    So exclusive and few
    Were the friends that he knew
That no one was present but Smarty.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DCLII. Relics.

    As I was going to sell my eggs,
    I met a man with bandy legs,
    Bandy legs and crooked toes,
    I tripped up his heels, and he fell on his nose.

Unknown

Categorical Courtship

I sat one night beside a blue-eyed girl,
    The fire was out, and so, too, was her mother;
A feeble flame around the lamp did curl,
    Making faint shadows, blending in each other:
'Twas nearly twelve o'clock, too, in November;
She had a shawl on, also, I remember.

Well, I had been to see her every night
    For thirteen days, and had a sneaking notion
To pop the question, thinking all was right,
    And once or twice had make an awkward motion
To take her hand, and stammer'd, cough'd, and stutter'd,
But, somehow, nothing to the point had utter'd.

I thought this chance too good now to be lost;
    I hitched my chair up pretty close beside her,
Drew a long breath, and then my legs I cross'd,
    Bent over, sighed, and for five minutes eyed her:
Sh...

Unknown

A Dog's Mistake

In Doggerel Verse


He had drifted in among us as a straw drifts with the tide,
He was just a wand'ring mongrel from the weary world outside;
He was not aristocratic, being mostly ribs and hair,
With a hint of spaniel parents and a touch of native bear.

He was very poor and humble and content with what he got,
So we fed him bones and biscuits, till he heartened up a lot;
Then he growled and grew aggressive, treating orders with disdain,
Till at last he bit the butcher, which would argue want of brain.

Now the butcher, noble fellow, was a sport beyond belief,
And instead of bringing actions he brought half a shin of beef,
Which he handed on to Fido, who received it as a right
And removed it to the garden, where he buried it at night.

'Twas the mean...

Andrew Barton Paterson