Nursery Rhyme. DLXXXVI. Natural History.

    Hussy, hussy, where's your horse?
    Hussy, hussy, gone to grass!
    Hussy, hussy, fetch him home,
    Hussy, hussy, let him alone.

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. DLXXVIII. Natural History.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. DVI. Natural History.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. CLXXXVI. Riddles.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Cats

Unknown , Simple Poetry

English

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Nursery Rhyme. DLXVI. Natural History.

    I had a little hen, the prettiest ever seen,
    She washed me the dishes, and kept the house clean:
    She went to the mill to fetch me some flour;
    She brought it home in less than an hour;
    She baked me my bread, she brew'd me my ale,
    She sat by the fire and told many a fine tale.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DLXV. Natural History.

    Snail, snail, shut out your horns;
        Father and mother are dead:
    Brother and sister are in the back yard,
        Begging for barley bread.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DXXVI. Natural History.

    Pussy sat by the fire-side
    In a basket full of coal-dust;
    Bas-
    ket,
    Coal-
    dust,
    In a basket full of coal-dust!

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DLXXIV. Natural History.

    Hurly, burly, trumpet trase,
    The cow was in the market place,
    Some goes far, and some goes near,
    But where shall this poor henchman steer?

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DLXXXIV. Natural History.

    I had a little pony,
        His name was Dapple-gray,
    I lent him to a lady,
        To ride a mile away;
    She whipped him, she slashed him,
        She rode him through the mire;
    I would not lend my pony now
        For all the lady's hire.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DLXXIII. Natural History.

    See, saw, Margery Daw,
    The old hen flew over the malt house,
    She counted her chickens one by one,
    Still she missed the little white one,
    And this is it, this is it, this is it.

Unknown