It's a very odd thing / As odd as can be / That whatever Miss T. eats / Turns into Miss T.

Far are the shades of Arabia, / Where the Princes ride at noon.

Ann, Ann! / Come! quick as you can! / There's a fish that talks / In the frying pan.

Very old are we men; / Our dreams are tales / Told in dim Eden / By Eve's nightingales.

Three jolly Farmers / Once bet a pound / Each dance the other would / Off the ground.

Three jolly gentlemen, / In coats of red, / Rode their horses / Up to bed.

Has anybody seen my Mopser? - / A comely dog is he, / With hair the colour of a Charles the Fifth, / And teeth like ships at sea.

He is the Ancient Tapster of this Hostel, / To him at length even we all keys must resign.

He is crazed with the spell of far Arabia, / They have stolen his wits away.

Since that all things thou wouldst praise / Beauty took from those who loved them / In other days.