Nursery Rhyme. DXVIII. Natural History.

    When the snow is on the ground,
        Little Robin Red-breast grieves;
    For no berries can be found,
        And on the trees there are no leaves.

    The air is cold, the worms are hid,
        For this poor bird what can be done?
    We'll strew him here some crumbs of bread,
        And then he'll live till the snow is gone.

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. CLXXXI. Songs.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. DXIV. Natural History.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Hom[oe]Opathic Soup

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. DCXIX. Relics.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

English

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Nursery Rhyme. DLXXIX. Natural History.

    Little cock robin peep'd out of his cabin,
    To see the cold winter come in,
            Tit, for tat, what matter for that,
            He'll hide his head under his wing!

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DXLVIII. Natural History.

    The robin and the wren,
    They fought upon the parrage pan;
    But ere the robin got a spoon,
    The wren had eat the parrage down.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. CXLIX. Songs.

        The north wind doth blow,
        And we shall have snow,
    And what will poor Robin do then?
                                            Poor thing!

        He'll sit in a barn,
        And to keep himself warm,
    Will hide his head under his wing.
                                            Poor thing!

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DXXVIII. Natural History.

    Little Robin Red-breast,
        Sat upon a hirdle;
    With a pair of speckled legs,
        And a green girdle.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DXXVII. Natural History.

    Little Robin Red-breast
        Sat upon a rail:
    Niddle naddle went his head,
        Wiggle waggle went his tail.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DXLIX. Natural History.

    Little Bob Robin,
    Where do you live?
    Up in yonder wood, sir,
    On a hazel twig.

Unknown