Peacock Pie, A Book of Rhymes | Page 5

of sack
His thirst to slake;
Bird in arras
And hound in hall
Watched very softly
Or not at all;
Fire in the middle,
Stone all round
Changed not, heeded not,
Made no sound;
All by himself
At the Table High
He'd nibble and sip
While his dreams slipped by;
And when he had finished,
He'd nod and say,
'Cake and sack
For King Caraway!'
THE SHIP OF RIO
There was a ship of Rio
Sailed out into the blue,
And nine and ninety monkeys
Were all her jovial crew.
From bo'sun to the cabin boy,
From quarter to caboose,
There weren't a stitch of calico
To breech 'em - tight or loose;
From spar to deck, from deck to keel,
From barnacle to shroud,
There weren't one pair of reach-me-downs
To all that jabbering crowd.
But wasn't it a gladsome sight,
When roared the deep sea gales,
To see them reef her fore and aft

A-swinging by their tails!
Oh, wasn't it a gladsome sight,
When glassy calm did come,
To see them squatting tailor-wise
Around a keg of rum!
Oh, wasn't it a gladsome sight,
When in she sailed to land,
To see them all a-scampering skip
For nuts across the sand!
TILLIE
Old Tillie Turveycombe
Sat to sew,
Just where a patch of fern did
grow;
There, as she yawned,
And yawn wide did she,
Floated
some seed
Down her gull-e-t;
And look you once,
And look you
twice,
Poor old Tillie
Was gone in a trice.
But oh, when the wind

Do a-moaning come,
'Tis poor old Tillie
Sick for home;
And
oh, when a voice
In the mist do sigh,
Old Tillie Turveycombe's

Floating by.
JIM JAY
Do diddle di do,
Poor Jim Jay
Got stuck fast
In Yesterday.
Squinting he was,
On Cross-legs bent,
Never heeding
The wind was spent.
Round veered the weathercock,
The sun drew in -
And stuck was Jim
Like a rusty pin...
We pulled and we pulled
From seven till twelve,
Jim, too frightened

To help himself.
But all in vain.
The clock struck one,
And there was Jim
A little bit gone.
At half-past five
You scarce could see
A glimpse of his flapping
Handkerchee.
And when came noon,
And we climbed sky-high,
Jim was a speck
Slip - slipping by.
Come to-morrow,
The neighbours say,
He'll be past crying for;
Poor Jim Jay.
MISS T.
It's a very odd thing -----
As odd as can be ---
That whatever Miss T. eats
Turns into Miss T.;
Porridge and apples,
Mince, muffins and mutton,
Jam, junket, jumbles ----
Not a rap, not a button
It matters; the moment
They're out of her plate,
Though shared by Miss Butcher
And sour Mr. Bate;
Tiny and cheerful,
And neat as can be,
Whatever Miss T. eats
Turns into Miss T.

THE CUPBOARD
I know a little cupboard,
With a teeny tiny key,
And there's a jar of
Lollypops
For me, me, me.
It has a little shelf, my dear,
As dark as dark can be,
And there's a
dish of Banbury Cakes
For me, me, me.
I have a small fat grandmamma,
With a very slippery knee,
And
she's the Keeper of the Cupboard
With the key, key, key.
And I'm very good, my dear,
As good as good can be,
There's
Branbury Cakes, and Lollypops
For me, me, me.
THE BARBER'S
Gold locks, and black locks,
Red locks and brown,
Topknot to love-curl
The hair wisps down;
Straight above the clear eyes,
Rounded round the ears,
Snip-snap and snick-a-snick,
Clash the Barber's shears;
Us, in the looking-glass,
Footsteps in the street,
Over, under, to and fro,
The lean blades meet;
Bay Rum or Bear's Grease,

A silver groat to pay -
Then out a-shin-shan-shining
In the bright, blue day.
HIDE AND SEEK
Hide and seek, says the Wind,
In the shade of the woods;
Hide and seek, says the Moon,
To the hazel buds;
Hide and seek, says the Cloud,
Star on to star;
Hide and seek, says the Wave,
At the harbour bar;
Hide and seek, say I,
To myself, and step
Out of the dream of Wake
Into the dream of Sleep.
BOYS AND GIRLS
THEN
Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty
A hundred years ago,
All through the night with lantern bright
The Watch trudged to and fro,
And little boys tucked snug abed
Would wake from dreams to hear -
'Two o' the morning by the clock,
And the stars a-shining clear!'
Or, when across the chimney-tops
Screamed shrill a North-East gale,
A faint and shaken voice would
shout,
'Three! And a storm of hail!'

THE WINDOW
Behind the blinds I sit and watch
The people passing - passing by;

And not a single one can see
My tiny watching eye.
They cannot see my little room,
All yellowed with the shaded sun;

They do not even know I'm here;
Nor'll guess when I am gone.
POOR HENRY
Thick in its glass
The physic stands,
Poor Henry lifts
Distracted hands;
His round cheek wans
In the candlelight,
To smell that smell!
To see that sight!
Finger and thumb
Clinch his small nose,
A gurgle, a gasp,
And down it goes;
Scowls Henry now;
But mark that cheek,
Sleek with the bloom
Of health next week!
FULL MOON
One night as Dick lay half asleep,

Into his drowsy eyes
A great still light begins to creep
From out the