There was a snake that dwelt in Skye,
— Over the misty sea, oh;
He lived upon nothing but gooseberry-pie
— For breakfast, dinner, and tea, oh.

Now gooseberry-pie — as is very well known —
— Over the misty sea, oh,
Is not to be found under every stone,
— Nor yet upon every tree, oh.

And being so ill to please with his meat,
— Over the misty sea, oh,
The snake had sometimes nothing to eat,
— And an angry snake was he, oh.

Then he'd flick his tongue and his head he'd shake,
— Over the misty sea, oh,

There was a sick man of Tobago
Lived long on rice-gruel and sago;
But at last, to his bliss,
The physician said this:
" To a roast leg of mutton you may go".

1.

There was a ship, and a ship of fame,
Launch'd off the stocks, bound to the main,
With a hundred bold and brisk young men,
Well pick'd and chosen every one.
And William Glen was our captain's name,
He was a tall and a brisk young man;
As bold a sailor as went to sea,
And we were bound for High Barbary.

2.

On the first of April we did set sail,
Blest with a sweet and a prosperous gale;
They all fell sick but sixty-three,
As we did sail to High Barbary.
One night our captain lay in his sleep,

There was a shepherd's daughter
Came triping on the way,
And there she met a courteous knight,
Which caused her to stay.
Sing trang dil do lee

" Good morow to you, beautious maid,"
These words pronounced he;
" O I shall dye this day," he said,
" If I have not my will of thee."

" The Lord forbid," the maid reply'd,
" That such a thing should be,
That ever such a courteous yong knight
Should dye for love of me."

He took her by the middle so small,
And laid her down on the plain,

I

There was a rover from a western shore,
England! whose eyes the sudden tears did drown,
Beholding the white cliff and sunny down
Of thy good realm, beyond the sea's uproar.
I, for a moment, dreamed that, long before,
I had beheld them thus, when, with the frown
Of sovereignty, the victor's palm and crown
Thou from the tilting-field of nations bore.
Thy prowess and thy glory dazzled first;
But when in fields I saw the tender flame
Of primroses, and full-fleeced lambs at play,

There was a road ran past our house
Too lovely to explore.
I asked my mother once — she said
That if you followed where it led
It brought you to the milk-man's door.
(That's why I have not travelled more.)

There was a rich lord, and he lived in Forfar,
He had a fair lady, and one only dochter.

O she was fair, O dear, she was bonnie!
A ship's captain courted her to be his honey.

There cam a ship's captain out owre the sea sailing,
He courted this young thing till he got her wi bairn.

" Ye 'll steal your father's gowd, and your mother's money,
And I 'll mak ye a lady in Ireland bonnie."

She 's stown her father's gowd, and her mother's money,
But she was never a lady in Ireland bonnie.

1.

There was a rich lady, from England she came,
Fine Sally, fine Sally, fine Sally by name,
And she had more money than the king could possess,
And her wit and her beauty was worth all the rest.

2.

There was a poor doctor who lived hard by,
And on this fair damsel he cast his eye.
Fine Sally, fine Sally, fine Sally, says he,
Can you tell me the reason our love can't agree?
I don't hate you, Billy, nor no other man,
But to tell you I love you I never can.

3.

Fine Sally took sick and she knew not for why,

There was a man whom Sorrow named his friend,
And he, of his high comrade Sorrow dreaming,
Went walking with slow steps along the gleaming
And humming sands, where windy surges wend:
And he called loudly to the stars to bend
From their pale thrones and comfort him, but they
Among themselves laugh on and sing alway:
And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend
Cried out, Dim sea, hear my most piteous cry!

There was a man who watched the river flow
Past the huge town, one gray November day.
Round him in narrow high-piled streets at play
The boys made merry as they saw him go,
Murmuring half-loud, with eyes upon the stream,
The immortal screed he held within his hand.
For he was walking in an April land
With Faust and Helen. Shadowy as a dream
Was the prose-world, the river and the town.
Wild joy possessed him; through enchanted skies
He saw the cranes of Ibycus swoop down.
He closed the page, he lifted up his eyes,