Последний отзыв
Очень интересная!
По всем вопросам обращайтесь на: info@litportal.ru
(©) 2003-2024.
✖
The Nursery Rhyme Book
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
Would ride through the air
On a very fine gander.
Mother Goose had a house,
'Twas built in a wood,
Where an owl at the door
For sentinel stood.
This is her son Jack,
A plain-looking lad,
He is not very good,
Nor yet very bad.
She sent him to market,
A live goose he bought,
Here, mother, says he,
It will not go for nought.
Jack's goose and her gander
Grew very fond;
They'd both eat together,
Or swim in one pond.
Jack found one morning,
As I have been told,
His goose had laid him
An egg of pure gold.
Jack rode to his mother
The news for to tell;
She call'd him a good boy,
And said it was well.
Jack sold his gold egg
To a rogue of a Jew,
Who cheated him out of
The half of his due.
Then Jack went a-courting
A lady so gay,
As fair as the lily,
And sweet as the May.
The Jew and the Squire
Came behind his back,
And began to belabour
The sides of poor Jack.
The old Mother Goose
That instant came in,
And turned her son Jack
Into famed Harlequin.
She then with her wand
Touch'd the lady so fine,
And turn'd her at once
Into sweet Columbine.
The gold egg into the sea
Was thrown then, —
When Jack jump'd in,
And got the egg back again.
The Jew got the goose,
Which he vow'd he would kill,
Resolving at once
His pockets to fill.
Jack's mother came in,
And caught the goose soon,
And mounting its back,
Flow up to the moon.
OLD Abram Brown is dead and gone,
You'll never see him more;
He used to wear a long brown coat,
That button'd down before.
MY lady Wind, my lady Wind,
Went round about the house to find
A chink to get her foot in:
She tried the key-hole in the door,
She tried the crevice in the floor,
And drove the chimney soot in.
And then one night when it was dark,
She blew up such a tiny spark,
That all the house was pothered:
From it she raised up such a flame,
As flamed away to Belting Lane,
And White Cross folks were smothered.
And thus when once, my little dears,
A whisper reaches itching ears,
The same will come, you'll find:
Take my advice, restrain the tongue,
Remember what old nurse has sung
Of busy lady Wind.
PUNCH and Judy
On a very fine gander.
Mother Goose had a house,
'Twas built in a wood,
Where an owl at the door
For sentinel stood.
This is her son Jack,
A plain-looking lad,
He is not very good,
Nor yet very bad.
She sent him to market,
A live goose he bought,
Here, mother, says he,
It will not go for nought.
Jack's goose and her gander
Grew very fond;
They'd both eat together,
Or swim in one pond.
Jack found one morning,
As I have been told,
His goose had laid him
An egg of pure gold.
Jack rode to his mother
The news for to tell;
She call'd him a good boy,
And said it was well.
Jack sold his gold egg
To a rogue of a Jew,
Who cheated him out of
The half of his due.
Then Jack went a-courting
A lady so gay,
As fair as the lily,
And sweet as the May.
The Jew and the Squire
Came behind his back,
And began to belabour
The sides of poor Jack.
The old Mother Goose
That instant came in,
And turned her son Jack
Into famed Harlequin.
She then with her wand
Touch'd the lady so fine,
And turn'd her at once
Into sweet Columbine.
The gold egg into the sea
Was thrown then, —
When Jack jump'd in,
And got the egg back again.
The Jew got the goose,
Which he vow'd he would kill,
Resolving at once
His pockets to fill.
Jack's mother came in,
And caught the goose soon,
And mounting its back,
Flow up to the moon.
OLD Abram Brown is dead and gone,
You'll never see him more;
He used to wear a long brown coat,
That button'd down before.
MY lady Wind, my lady Wind,
Went round about the house to find
A chink to get her foot in:
She tried the key-hole in the door,
She tried the crevice in the floor,
And drove the chimney soot in.
And then one night when it was dark,
She blew up such a tiny spark,
That all the house was pothered:
From it she raised up such a flame,
As flamed away to Belting Lane,
And White Cross folks were smothered.
And thus when once, my little dears,
A whisper reaches itching ears,
The same will come, you'll find:
Take my advice, restrain the tongue,
Remember what old nurse has sung
Of busy lady Wind.
PUNCH and Judy
Другие электронные книги автора Andrew Lang
Последний отзыв
Очень интересная!