Nursery Rhyme. DCVII. Local.

    My father and mother,
    My uncle and aunt,
    Be all gone to Norton,
    But little Jack and I.

    A little bit of powdered beef,
    And a great net of cabbage,
    The best meal I have had to-day,
    Is a good bowl of porridge.

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. CCCXXXVI. Games.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. DCIX. Local.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. CCCCXXIV. Jingles.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. CCCI. Games.

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. DCVI. Local.

    Little boy, pretty boy, where was you born?
    In Lincolnshire, master: come blow the cow's horn.
    A half-penny pudding, a penny pie,
    A shoulder of mutton, and that love I.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DCX. Local.

    Little lad, little lad, where wast thou born?
    Far off in Lancashire, under a thorn,
    Where they sup sour milk in a ram's horn.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DCIII. Local.

    At Brill on the Hill,
    The wind blows shrill,
        The cook no meat can dress;
    At Stow in the Wold
    The wind blows cold, -
        I know no more than this.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DCXLII. Relics.

    When Jacky's a very good boy,
        He shall have cakes and a custard;
    But when he does nothing but cry,
        He shall have nothing but mustard.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DCXI. Relics.

    The girl in the lane, that couldn't speak plain,
        Cried "gobble, gobble, gobble:"
    The man on the hill, that couldn't stand still,
        Went hobble, hobble, hobble.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DCV. Local.

    Driddlety drum, driddlety drum,
    There you see the beggars are come;
    Some are here, and some are there,
    And some are gone to Chidley fair.

Unknown