There was a Young Lady of Poole, Whose soup was excessively cool; So she put it to boil, by the aid of some oil, That ingenious Young Lady of Poole.

A vile beastly rottenheaded foolbegotten brazenthroated pernicous piggish screaming, tearing, roaring, perplexing, splitmecrackle crashmecriggle insane ass of a woman is practising howling below-stairs with a brute of a singingmaster so horribly, that my head is nearly off.

They danced by the light of the moon.

There was an Old Person of Bray, Who sang through the whole of the day To his ducks and his pigs, whom he fed upon figs, That valuable Person of Bray.

There was an Old Man of Columbia, Who was thirsty, and called out for some beer; But they brought it quite hot, in a small copper pot, Which disgusted that Man of Columbia.

They dined on mince, and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon; And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon.

They went to sea in a sieve, they did; In a sieve they went to sea; In spite of all their friends could say.