DanFosing/public-domain-poetry huggingface dataset:
A Noble Riddle Wisely Expounded
by Frank Sidgwick

The Text is from a broadside of the seventeenth century from the press of Coles, Vere, Wright, and Clarke, now preserved in the Rawlinson collection in the Bodleian Library.
The Story of this ballad is one of the common class of riddle-ballads. Some of these riddles are found also in Captain Wedderburn.
It is not clear why in 18.1 'poyson is greener than the grass.' In Captain Wedderburn (17.1) it is 'death' that is greener than the grass, which is equally inexplicable. A variant of the latter gives 'virgus' [= verjuice], a kind of vinegar, which obviously means 'green juice.' It is possible that this might come to be regarded as a synonym for 'poyson'; and the next step is to substitute 'death' for 'poyson.'
A NOBLE RIDDLE WISELY EXPOUNDED
1.
There was a lady of the North Country,
Lay the bent to the bonny broom
And she had lovely daughters three.
Fa la la la, fa la la la ra re
2.
There was a knight of noble worth
Which also lived in the North.
3.
The knight, of courage stout and brave,
A wife he did desire to have.
4.
He knocked at the ladie's gate
One evening when it was late.
5.
The eldest sister let him in,
And pin'd the door with a silver pin.
6.
The second sister she made his bed,
And laid soft pillows under his head.
7.
The youngest daughter that same night,
She went to bed with this young knight.
8.
And in the morning, when it was day,
These words unto him she did say:
9.
'Now you have had your will,' quoth she,
'I pray, sir knight, will you marry me?'
10.
The young brave knight to her replyed,
'Thy suit, fair maid, shall not be deny'd:
11.
'If thou canst answer me questions three,
This very day will I marry thee.'
12.
'Kind sir, in love, O then,' quoth she,
'Tell me what your three questions be.'
13.
'O what is longer than the way,
Or what is deeper than the sea?
14.
'Or what is louder than the horn,
Or what is sharper than a thorn?
15.
'Or what is greener than the grass,
Or what is worse than a woman was?'
16.
'O love is longer than the way,
And hell is deeper than the sea.
17.
'And thunder is louder than the horn,
And hunger is sharper than a thorn.
18.
'And poyson is greener than the grass,
And the Devil is worse than woman was.'
19.
When she these questions answered had,
The knight became exceeding glad.
20.
And having truly try'd her wit,
He much commended her for it.
21.
And after, as it is verifi'd,
He made of her his lovely bride.
22.
So now, fair maidens all, adieu,
This song I dedicate to you.
23.
I wish that you may constant prove
Vnto the man that you do love.
There Was A Little Man
by Leonard Leslie Brooke

There was a little man,
And he had a little gun,
And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead;
He went to the brook
And saw a little duck,
And he shot it right through the head, head, head.
He carried it home
To his old wife Joan,
And bid her a fire for to make, make, make;
To roast the little duck
He had shot in the brook,
And he'd go and fetch her the drake, drake, drake.
Nursery Rhyme. DXXXVIII. Natural History.
by Unknown

There was a little one-eyed gunner
Who kill'd all the birds that died last summer.
Nursery Rhyme. CXCVII. Riddles.
by Unknown

There was a king met a king
In a narrow lane,
Says this king to that king,
"Where have you been?"
"Oh! I've been a hunting
With my dog and my doe."
"Pray lend him to me,
That I may do so."
"There's the dog take the dog."
"What's the dog's name?"
"I've told you already."
"Pray tell me again."
Nursery Rhyme. DXCVIII. Local.
by Unknown

There was a little nobby colt,
His name was Nobby Gray;
His head was made of pouce straw,
His tail was made of hay;
He could ramble, he could trot,
He could carry a mustard-pot,
Round the town of Woodstock,
Hey, Jenny, hey!
Every Rose Hath Its Thorn.
by James McIntyre

There was a maiden all forlorn,
She loved a youth, his name was Thorn,
But he was shy for to disclose
How he loved dear the sweet May Rose.
Lustre sweet it would give to Thorn,
If this fair flower would it adorn,
Said he all other names above
Your charming name alone I love.
Said she of beauty 'tis soon shorn,
Unless that it is joined to Thorn,
It very soon doth droop and die,
And she heaved a gentle sigh.
Said he we'll wed to-morrow morn,
No more from me you shall be torn,
For you will banish all my woes,
And near my heart I'll wear the rose.
Now little rose buds they are born,
All clinging to the parent Thorn,
In grace and beauty each one grows,
Full worthy of the sweet May Rose.
Some flowers they only shed their bloom
In the sweet month of leafy June,
But May doth bloom each month in year
A fragrant Rose forever dear.
Little Man And Little Soul. A Ballad.
by Thomas Moore

To the tune of "There was a little man, and he wooed a little maid."
DEDICATED TO THE RT. HON. CHARLES ABBOT.
arcades ambo et cantare pares
1813.
There was a little Man and he had a little Soul,
And he said, "Little Soul, let us try, try, try.
"Whether it's within our reach
"To make up a little Speech,
"Just between little you and little I, I, I,
"Just between little you and little I!"
Then said his little Soul,
Peeping from her little hole,
"I protest, little Man, you are stout, stout, stout,
"But, if it's not uncivil,
"Pray tell me what the devil,
"Must our little, little speech be about, bout, bout,
"Must our little, little speech be about?"
The little Man lookt big,
With the assistance of his wig,
And he called his little Soul to order, order, order,
Till she feared he'd make her jog in
To jail, like Thomas Croggan,
(As she wasn't Duke or Earl) to reward her, ward her, ward her,
As she wasn't Duke or Earl, to reward her.
The little Man then spoke,
"Little Soul, it is no joke,
"For as sure as Jacky Fuller loves a sup, sup, sup,
"I will tell the Prince and People
"What I think of Church and Steeple.
"And my little patent plan to prop them up, up, up,
"And my little patent plan to prop them up."
Away then, cheek by jowl,
Little Man and little Soul
Went and spoke their little speech to a tittle, tittle, tittle,
And the world all declare
That this priggish little pair
Never yet in all their lives lookt so little, little, little.
Never yet in all their lives lookt so little!
Give Us Barabbas [1]
by Emily Pauline Johnson

There was a man - a Jew of kingly blood,
But of the people - poor and lowly born,
Accused of blasphemy of God, He stood
Before the Roman Pilate, while in scorn
The multitude demanded it was fit
That one should suffer for the people, while
Another be released, absolved, acquit,
To live his life out virtuous or vile.
"Whom will ye have - Barabbas or this Jew?"
Pilate made answer to the mob, "The choice
Is yours; I wash my hands of this, and you,
Do as you will." With one vast ribald voice
The populace arose and, shrieking, cried,
"Give us Barabbas, we condone his deeds!"
And He of Nazareth was crucified - 
Misjudged, condemned, dishonoured for their needs.
And down these nineteen centuries anew
Comes the hoarse-throated, brutalized refrain,
"Give us Barabbas, crucify the Jew!"
Once more a man must bear a nation's stain, - 
And that in France, the chivalrous, whose lore
Made her the flower of knightly age gone by.
Now she lies hideous with a leprous sore
No skill can cure - no pardon purify.
And an indignant world, transfixed with hate
Of such disease, cries, as in Herod's time,
Pointing its finger at her festering state,
"Room for the leper, and her leprous crime!"
And France, writhing from years of torment, cries
Out in her anguish, "Let this Jew endure,
Damned and disgraced, vicarious sacrifice.
The honour of my army is secure."
And, vampire-like, that army sucks the blood
From out a martyr's veins, and strips his crown
Of honour from him, and his herohood
Flings in the dust, and cuts his manhood down.
Hide from your God, O! ye that did this act!
With lesser crimes the halls of Hell are paved.
Your army's honour may be still intact,
Unstained, unsoiled, unspotted, - but unsaved.
Nursery Rhyme. CCCCLXXXVII. Love And Matrimony.
by Unknown

There was a little pretty lad,
And he lived by himself,
And all the meat he got
He put upon a shelf.
The rats and the mice
Did lead him such a life,
That he went to Ireland
To get himself a wife.
The lanes they were so broad,
And the fields they were so narrow,
He couldn't get his wife home
Without a wheelbarrow.
The wheelbarrow broke,
My wife she got a kick,
The deuce take the wheelbarrow,
That spared my wife's neck.
Personal Names,
by Unknown

There was a great swell in Japan,
Whose name on a Tuesday began;
It lasted through Sunday
Till twilight on Monday,
And sounded like stones in a can.
Little Man & Maid
by Walter Crane

1
There was a little man
And he woo'd a little maid,
And he said, "Little maid, will you wed, wed, wed?
I have little more to say
Than 'will you, yea or nay?'
For least said is soonest mended-ded-ded-ded."
2
The little maid replied,
(Some say a little sighed,)
"But what shall we have to eat, eat, eat?
"Will the love that you're rich in
"Make a fire in the kitchen?
"Or the little god of love turn the spit, spit, spit?"
The Isle.
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

There was a little lawny islet
By anemone and violet,
Like mosaic, paven:
And its roof was flowers and leaves
Which the summer's breath enweaves,
Where nor sun nor showers nor breeze
Pierce the pines and tallest trees,
Each a gem engraven; -
Girt by many an azure wave
With which the clouds and mountains pave
A lake's blue chasm.
There Was A Lady Loved A Swine
by Walter Crane

1.
There was a lady loved a swine,
"Honey!" said she;
"Pig-hog, wilt thou be mine?"
"Hunc!" said he.
2.
"I'll build thee a silver sty,
Honey!" said she;
"And in it thou shalt lie!"
"Hunc!" said he.
3.
"Pinned with a silver pin,
Honey!" said she;
"That thou mayest go out and in,"
"Hunc!" said he.
4.
"Will thou have me now,
Honey?" said she;
"Speak, or my heart will break,"
"Hunc!" said he.
Bonnie Jean.
by Robert Burns

I.
There was a lass, and she was fair,
At kirk and market to be seen,
When a' the fairest maids were met,
The fairest maid was bonnie Jean.
II.
And aye she wrought her mammie's wark,
And ay she sang so merrilie:
The blithest bird upon the bush
Had ne'er a lighter heart than she.
III.
But hawks will rob the tender joys
That bless the little lintwhite's nest;
And frost will blight the fairest flowers,
And love will break the soundest rest.
IV.
Young Robie was the brawest lad,
The flower and pride of a' the glen;
And he had owsen, sheep, and kye,
And wanton naigies nine or ten.
V.
He gaed wi' Jeanie to the tryste,
He danc'd wi' Jeanie on the down;
And, lang ere witless Jeanie wist,
Her heart was tint, her peace was stown.
VI.
As in the bosom o' the stream,
The moon-beam dwells at dewy e'en;
So trembling, pure, was tender love
Within the breast o' bonnie Jean.
VII.
And now she works her mammie's wark,
And ay she sighs wi' care and pain;
Yet wist na what her ail might be,
Or what wad mak her weel again.
VIII.
But did na Jeanie's heart loup light,
And did na joy blink in her e'e,
As Robie tauld a tale of love,
Ae e'enin' on the lily lea?
IX.
The sun was sinking in the west,
The birds sung sweet in ilka grove;
His cheek to hers he fondly prest,
And whisper'd thus his tale o' love:
X.
O Jeanie fair, I lo'e thee dear;
O canst thou think to fancy me!
Or wilt thou leave thy mammie's cot,
And learn to tent the farms wi' me?
XI.
At barn or byre thou shalt na drudge,
Or naething else to trouble thee;
But stray amang the heather-bells,
And tent the waving corn wi' me.
XII.
Now what could artless Jeanie do?
She had nae will to say him na:
At length she blush'd a sweet consent,
And love was ay between them twa.
There Was A Lass.
by Robert Burns

Tune - "Duncan Davison."
I.
There was a lass, they ca'd her Meg,
And she held o'er the moors to spin;
There was a lad that follow'd her,
They ca'd him Duncan Davison.
The moor was driegh, and Meg was skiegh,
Her favour Duncan could na win;
For wi' the roke she wad him knock.
And ay she shook the temper-pin.
II.
As o'er the moor they lightly foor,
A burn was clear, a glen was green,
Upon the banks they eas'd-their shanks,
And ay she set the wheel between:
But Duncan swore a haly aith,
That Meg should be a bride the morn,
Then Meg took up her spinnin' graith,
And flang them a' out o'er the burn.
III.
We'll big a house, a wee, wee house,
And we will live like king and queen,
Sae blythe and merry we will be
When ye set by the wheel at e'en.
A man may drink and no be drunk;
A man may fight and no be slain;
A man may kiss a bonnie lass,
And ay be welcome back again.
Aiken Drum
by Walter Crane

There was a man lived in the moon, lived in the moon,
lived in the moon,
There was a man lived in the moon,
And his name was Aiken Drum,
And he played upon a ladle, a ladle, a ladle,
And he played upon a ladle,
And his name was Aiken Drum.
And his hat was made of good cream cheese,
And his name, &c.
And his coat was made of good roast beef,
And his name, &c.
And his buttons were made of penny loaves,
And his name, &c.
His waistcoat was made of crust of pies,
And his name, &c.
His breeches were made of haggis bags,
And his name, &c.
There was a man in another town,
And his name was Willy Wood;
And he played upon a razor,
And his name was Willy Wood.
And he ate up all the good cream cheese,
And his name, &c.
And he ate up all the good roast beef,
And his name, &c.
And he ate up all the penny loaves,
And his name, &c.
And he ate up all the good pie crust,
And his name, &c.
But he choked upon the haggis bags,
And there was an end of Willy Wood.
The Bonny Birdy
by Frank Sidgwick

Text.--From the Jamieson-Brown MS. Jamieson, in printing this ballad, enlarged and rewrote much of it, making the burden part of the dialogue throughout.
The Story is much the same as that of Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard; but the ballad as a whole is worthy of comparison with the longer English ballad for the sake of its lyrical setting.
THE BONNY BIRDY
1.
There was a knight, in a summer's night,
Was riding o'er the lee, (diddle)
An' there he saw a bonny birdy,
Was singing upon a tree. (diddle)
O wow for day! (diddle)
An' dear gin it were day! (diddle)
Gin it were day, an' gin I were away,
For I ha' na lang time to stay. (diddle)
2.
'Make hast, make hast, ye gentle knight,
What keeps you here so late?
Gin ye kent what was doing at hame,
I fear you woud look blate.'
3.
'O what needs I toil day an' night,
My fair body to kill,
Whan I hae knights at my comman',
An' ladys at my will?'
4.
'Ye lee, ye lee, ye gentle knight,
Sa loud's I hear you lee;
Your lady's a knight in her arms twa
That she lees far better nor thee.'
5.
'Ye lee, ye lee, you bonny birdy,
How you lee upo' my sweet!
I will tak' out my bonny bow,
An' in troth I will you sheet.'
6.
'But afore ye hae your bow well bent,
An' a' your arrows yare,
I will flee till another tree,
Whare I can better fare.'
7.
'O whare was you gotten, and whare was ye clecked?
My bonny birdy, tell me';
'O I was clecked in good green wood,
Intill a holly tree;
A gentleman my nest herryed
An' ga' me to his lady.
8.
'Wi' good white bread an' farrow-cow milk
He bade her feed me aft,
An' ga' her a little wee simmer-dale wanny,
To ding me sindle and saft.
9.
'Wi' good white bread an' farrow-cow milk
I wot she fed me nought,
But wi' a little wee simmer-dale wanny
She dang me sair an' aft:
Gin she had deen as ye her bade,
I wouldna tell how she has wrought.'
10.
The knight he rade, and the birdy flew,
The live-lang simmer's night,
Till he came till his lady's bow'r-door,
Then even down he did light:
The birdy sat on the crap of a tree,
An' I wot it sang fu' dight.
11.
'O wow for day! (diddle)
An' dear gin it were day! (diddle)
Gin it were day, and gin I were away,
For I ha' na lang time to stay.' (diddle)
12.
'What needs ye lang for day, (diddle)
An' wish that you were away? (diddle)
Is no your hounds i' my cellar.
Eating white meal and gray?' (diddle)
'O wow for day,' etc.
13.
'Is nae you[r] steed in my stable,
Eating good corn an' hay?
An' is nae your hawk i' my perch-tree,
Just perching for his prey?
An' is nae yoursel i' my arms twa?
Then how can ye lang for day?'
14.
'O wow for day! (diddle)
An' dear gin it were day! (diddle)
For he that's in bed wi' anither man's wife
Has never lang time to stay.' (diddle)
15.
Then out the knight has drawn his sword,
An' straiked it o'er a strae,
An' thro' and thro' the fa'se knight's waste
He gard cauld iron gae:
An' I hope ilk ane sal sae be serv'd
That treats ane honest man sae.
The Landau
by Rudyard Kipling

There was a landau deep and wide,
Cushioned for Sleep's own self to sit on,
The glory of the country-side
From Tanner's End to Marlow Ditton.
John of the broad and brandied cheek
(Well I recall its eau-de-vie hues! )
Drove staid Sir Ralph five days a week
At speeds which we considered Jehu's....
But now' poor John sleeps very sound,
And neither hears nor smells the fuss
Of the young Squire's nine-hundred-pound,
Er-Mors communis omnibus.
And I who in my daily stroll
Observe the reckless chauffeur crowd her,
Laudator temporis, extol
The times before the Act allowed her.
He Fears His Good Fortune
by Thomas Hardy

There was a glorious time
At an epoch of my prime;
Mornings beryl-bespread,
And evenings golden-red;
Nothing gray:
And in my heart I said,
"However this chanced to be,
It is too full for me,
Too rare, too rapturous, rash,
Its spell must close with a crash
Some day!"
The radiance went on
Anon and yet anon,
And sweetness fell around
Like manna on the ground.
"I've no claim,"
Said I, "to be thus crowned:
I am not worthy this:-
Must it not go amiss? -
Well . . . let the end foreseen
Come duly! - I am serene."
- And it came.
Nursery Rhyme. CCCCXLVI. Love And Matrimony.
by Unknown

[This is part of a little work called 'Authentic Memoirs of the little Man and the little Maid, with some interesting particulars of their lives,' which I suspect is more modern than the following. Walpole printed a small broadside containing a different version.]
There was a little man,
And he woo'd a little maid,
And he said, "little maid, will you wed, wed, wed?
I have little more to say,
Than will you, yea or nay,
For least said is soonest mended-ded, ded, ded."
The little maid replied,
Some say a little sighed,
"But what shall we have for to eat, eat, eat?
Will the love that you're so rich in
Make a fire in the kitchen?
Or the little god of Love turn the spit, spit, spit?"
Nursery Rhyme. CLXVI. Songs.
by Unknown

There was a jolly miller
Lived on the river Dee:
He worked and sung from morn till night,
No lark so blithe as he,
And this the burden of his song
For ever used to be - 
I jump mejerrime jee!
I care for nobody - no! not I,
Since nobody cares for me.
Two Red Roses Across The Moon
by William Morris

There was a lady lived in a hall,
Large of her eyes, and slim and tall;
And ever she sung from noon to noon,
Two red roses across the moon.
There was a knight came riding by
In early spring, when the roads were dry;
And he heard that lady sing at the noon,
Two red roses across the moon.
Yet none the more he stopp'd at all,
But he rode a-gallop past the hall;
And left that lady singing at noon,
Two red roses across the moon.
Because, forsooth, the battle was set,
And the scarlet and blue had got to be met,
He rode on the spur till the next warm noon:
Two red roses across the moon.
But the battle was scatter'd from hill to hill,
From the windmill to the watermill;
And he said to himself, as it near'd the noon,
Two red roses across the moon.
You scarce could see for the scarlet and blue,
A golden helm or a golden shoe:
So he cried, as the fight grew thick at the noon,
Two red roses across the moon!
Verily then the gold bore through
The huddled spears of the scarlet and blue;
And they cried, as they cut them down at the noon,
Two red roses across the moon!
I trow he stopp'd when he rode again
By the hall, though draggled sore with the rain;
And his lips were pinch'd to kiss at the noon
Two red roses across the moon.
Under the may she stoop'd to the crown,
All was gold, there was nothing of brown;
And the horns blew up in the hall at noon,
Two red roses across the moon.
Nursery Rhyme. CLXXIV. Songs.
by Unknown

There was a man in our toone, in our toone, in our toone,
There was a man in our toone, and his name was Billy Pod;
And he played upon an old razor, an old razor, an old razor,
And he played upon an old razor, with my fiddle fiddle fe fum fo.
And his hat it was made of the good roast beef, the good roast beef, the good roast beef,
And his hat it was made of the good roast beef, and his name was Billy Pod;
And he played upon an old razor, & c.
And his coat it was made of the good fat tripe, the good fat tripe, the good fat tripe,
And his coat it was made of the good fat tripe, and his name was Billy Pod;
And he played upon an old razor, & c.
And his breeks were made of the bawbie baps, the bawbie baps, the bawbie baps,
And his breeks were made of the bawbie baps, and his name was Billy Pod;
And he played upon an old razor, & c.
And there was a man in tither toone, in tither toone, in tither toone,
And there was a man in tither toone, and his name was Edrin Drum;
And he played upon an old laadle, an old laadle, an old laadle,
And he played upon an old laadle, with my fiddle fiddle fe fum fo.
And he eat up all the good roast beef, the good roast beef, & c. & c.
And he eat up all the good fat tripe, the good fat tripe, & c. & c.
And he eat up all the bawbie baps, & c. and his name was Edrin Drum.
The Frog Who Wished To Be As Big As The Ox.
by Jean de La Fontaine

There was a little Fog
Whose home was in a bog,
And he worried 'cause he wasn't big enough.
He sees an ox and cries:
"That's just about my size,
If I stretch myself - Say Sister, see me puff!"
So he blew, blew, blew,
Saying: "Sister, will that do?"
But she shook her head. And then he lost his wits.
For he stretched and puffed again
Till he cracked beneath the strain,
And burst, and flew about in little bits.
Nursery Rhyme. CCXXI. Riddles.
by Unknown

There was a man rode through our town,
Gray Grizzle was his name;
His saddle-bow was gilt with gold,
Three times I've named his name.
Nursery Rhyme. LIX. Tales.
by Unknown

There was a jolly miller
Lived on the river Dee,
He look'd upon his pillow,
And there he saw a flee.
Oh! Mr. Flea,
You have been biting me,
And you must die:
So he crack'd his bones
Upon the stones,
And there he let him lie.
Nursery Rhyme. LXXVI. Tales.
by Unknown

There was a king and he had three daughter,
And they all lived in a basin of water;
The basin bended,
My story's ended.
If the basin had been stronger,
My story would have been longer.
Nursery Rhyme. CCCCXLVII. Love And Matrimony.
by Unknown

There was a little boy and a little girl
Lived in an alley;
Says the little boy to the little girl,
"Shall I, oh! shall I?"
Says the little girl to the little boy,
"What shall we do?"
Says the little boy to the little girl,
"I will kiss you."
Ye Jolly Miller
by Walter Crane

There was a jolly miller once
Lived on the river Dee;
He worked and sang from morn till night,
No lark more blithe than he.
And this the burden of his song
For ever used to be,
"I care for nobody, no, not I,
And nobody cares for me."