WEE, wee tailor, Nobody was paler Than wee, wee tailor; And nobody was thinner. Hast thou mutton-chops for dinner, My small-beer sinner, My starveling rat,—but haler,— Wee, wee tailor? Below his starving garret Lived an old witch and a parrot,— Wee, wee tailor,— Cross, horrid, and uncivil, For her grandsire was the Devil, Or a chimney-sweeper evil; She was sooty, too, but paler,— Wee, wee tailor. Her sooty hen laid stale eggs, And then came with his splay legs,— Wee, wee tailor, And stole those eggs for dinner; Then would old witch begin her Damnations on the sinner,— 'May the thief lay eggs,—but staler;' Wee, wee tailor. Wee, wee tailor, Witch watched him like a jailor. Wee, wee tailor Did all his little luck spill. Tho' he swallowed many a muck's pill, Yet his mouth grew like a duck's bill, Crowed like a hen,—but maler,— Wee, wee tailor. Near him did cursèd doom stick, As he perched upon a broomstick,— Wee, wee tailor. It lightened, rained, and thundered, And all the doctors wondered When he layed about a hundred Gallinaceous eggs,—but staler,— Wee, wee tailor. A hundred eggs laid daily; No wonder he looked palely,— Wee, wee tailor. Witch let folks in to see some Poach'd tailor's eggs; to please 'em He must cackle on his besom, Till Fowl-death did prevail o'er Wee, wee tailor. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WILLOWS by FRANCIS BRET HARTE NO LONGER COULD I DOUBT HIM TRUE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR TO AMARANTHA, THAT SHE WOULD DISHEVEL HER HAIR by RICHARD LOVELACE ON KEAN'S HAMLET by WASHINGTON ALLSTON INVOCATION by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE |