O, where are you going? said Milder to Molder,
“O, we may not tell you,” said Festel to Fose,
“We’re off to the woods,” said John the Red Nose,
“We’re off to the woods,” said John the Red Nose.
And what will you do there?
O, we may not tell you.
We’ll hunt the Cutty Wren.
And how will you shoot her?
O, we may not tell you.
With bows and with arrows.
But that will not do.
O, what will do then?
Big guns and big cannons.
And how will you carry her?
O, we may not tell you.
On four strong men’s shoulders.
But that will not do.
O, what will do then?
In a big horse and wagon.
And how will you cut her up?
O, we may not tell you.
With knives and with forks.
But that will not do.
O, what will do then?
Big hatchets and cleavers.
And how will you cook her?
O, we may not tell you.
In pots and in pans.
But that will not do.
O, what will do then?
In a bloody great brass cauldron.
And who’ll get the spare ribs?
O, we may not tell you.
We’ll give ’em all to the poor.
(Anonymous British)
More Poetry from Anonymous British:
- An Excellent Ballad Of George Barnwell, An Apprentice Of London (Anonymous British Poems)
- Poetical Reflections On A Late Poem Entitled Absalom And Achitophel (Anonymous British Poems)
- The Midnight Messenger. or A Sudden Call From An Earthly Glory To The Cold Grave. (Anonymous British Poems)
- The Bride's Burial. To The Tune Of The Lady's Fall (Anonymous British Poems)
- The Spanish Virgin, Or Effects Of Jealousy (Anonymous British Poems)
- The Drowned Lovers (Anonymous British Poems)