Nursery Rhyme. CLXIX. Songs.

        [Song on the bells of Derby on foot-ball morning, a custom now discontinued:]

    Pancakes and fritters,
    Say All Saints and St. Peters;
    When will the ball come,
    Say the bells of St. Alkmun;
    At two they will throw,
    Says Saint Werabo;
    O! very well,
    Says little Michel.

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. CCCCLXII. Love And Matrimony.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. DCXX. Relics.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. II. Historical

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. DXI. Natural History.

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.

Nursery Rhyme. CCLXXXI. Games.

        [At the conclusion, the captive is privately asked if he will have oranges or lemons (the two leaders of the arch having previously agreed which designation shall belong to each), and he goes behind the one he may chance to name. When all are thus divided into two parties, they conclude the game by trying to pull each other beyond a certain line.]

    Gay go up and gay go down,
    To ring the bells of London town.

    Bull's eyes and targets,
    Say the bells of St. Marg'ret's.

    Brickbats and tiles,
    Say the bells of St. Giles'.

    Halfpence and farthings,
    Say the bells of St. Martin's.

    Oranges and lemons,
    Say the bells of St. Clement's.

    Pancakes and fritters,
    Say the bells of St. Peter's.

    Two...

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. CXLVI. Songs.

        [From 'Histrio-mastix, or, the Player Whipt,' 4to, Lond. 1610. Mr. Rimbault tells me this is common in Yorkshire.]

            Some up, and some down,
            There's players in the town,
    You wot well who they be;
            The sun doth arise,
            To three companies,
    One, two, three, four, make wee!

            Besides we that travel,
            With pumps full of gravel,
    Made all of such running leather:
            That once in a week,
            New masters we seek,
    And never can hold together.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DCXVII. Relics.

    Girls and boys, come out to play,
    The moon doth shine as bright as day;
    Leave your supper, and leave your sleep,
    And come with your playfellows into the street.
    Come with a whoop, come with a call,
    Come with a good will or not at all.
    Up the ladder and down the wall,
    A halfpenny roll will serve us all.
    You find milk, and I'll find flour,
    And we'll have a pudding in half an hour.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. CCCXLV. Games.

    Here we come a piping,
    First in spring, and then in May;
    The queen she sits upon the sand,
    Fair as a lily, white as a wand:
    King John has sent you letters three,
    And begs you'll read them unto me. -
    We can't read one without them all,
    So pray, Miss Bridget, deliver the ball!

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. CCCXXVI. Games.

        [The following lines are sung by children when starting for a race.]

    Good horses, bad horses,
        What is the time of day?
    Three o'clock, four o'clock,
        Now fare you away.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. CCLXXVII. Games.

        [Rhymes used by children to decide who is to begin a game.]

    One-ery, two-ery,
        Ziccary zan;
    Hollow bone, crack a bone,
        Ninery, ten:
    Spittery spot,
        It must be done;
    Twiddleum twaddleum,
        Twenty-one.

    Hink spink, the puddings stink,
        The fat begins to fry,
    Nobody at home, but jumping Joan,
        Father, mother, and I.
    Stick, stock, stone dead,
        Blind man can't see,
    Every knave will have a slave,
        You or I must be he.

Unknown