Nursery Rhyme. XLVII. Tales.

    The lion and the unicorn
        Were fighting for the crown;
    The lion beat the unicorn
        All round about the town.
    Some gave them white bread,
        And some gave them brown;
    Some gave them plum-cake,
        And sent them out of town.

        [The following two stanzas, although they belong to the same piece, are often found separated from each other.]

    Robin and Richard were two pretty men;
    They laid in bed till the clock struck ten;
    Then up starts Robin, and looks at the sky,
    Oh! brother Richard, the sun's very high:

    The bull's in the barn threshing the corn,
    The cock's on the dunghill blowing his horn,
    The cat's at the fire frying of fish,
    The dog's in the pantry breading his dish.

        [The tale of Simple Simon forms one of the chap-books, but the following verses are those generally sung in the nursery.]

    Simple Simon met a pieman
        Going to the fair;
    Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
        "Let me taste your ware."

    Says the pieman to Simple Simon,
        "Show me first your penny."
    Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
        "Indeed I have not any."

    Simple Simon went a fishing
        For to catch a whale:
    All the water he had got
        Was in his mother's pail.

    Pemmy was a pretty girl,
        But Fanny was a better;
    Pemmy looked like any churl,
        When little Fanny let her.

    Pemmy had a pretty nose,
        But Fanny had a better;
    Pemmy oft would come to blows,
        But Fanny would not let her.

    Pemmy had a pretty doll,
        But Fanny had a better;
    Pemmy chatter'd like a poll,
        When little Fanny let her.

    Pemmy had a pretty song,
        But Fanny had a better;
    Pemmy would sing all day long,
        But Fanny would not let her.

    Pemmy lov'd a pretty lad,
        And Fanny lov'd a better;
    And Pemmy wanted for to wed,
        But Fanny would not let her.

    Rowley Powley, pudding and pie,
    Kissed the girls and made them cry;
    When the girls begin to cry,
    Rowley Powley runs away.

    Little King Boggen he built a fine hall.
    Pye-crust, and pastry-crust, that was the wall;
    The windows were made of black-puddings and white,
    And slated with pancakes - you ne'er saw the like.