From the famous Peak of Derby, And the Devil's Arse there hard by, Where we yearly keep our musters, Thus the Egyptians throng in clusters. Be not frighted with our fashion, Though we seem a tattered nation; We account our rags our riches, So our tricks exceed our stitches. Give us bacon, rinds of walnuts, Shells of cockles, and of small nuts, Ribands, bells, and saffroned linen, All the world is ours to win in. Knacks we have that will delight you, Slights of hand that will invite you To endure our tawny faces, And not cause you cut your laces. All your fortunes we can tell ye, Be they for the back or belly: In the moods too, and the tenses, That may fit your fine five senses. Draw but then your gloves, we pray you, And sit still, we will not fray you; For though we be here at Burleigh, We'd be loth to make a hurly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DINKEY-BIRD by EUGENE FIELD GROWING OLD by FRANCIS LEDWIDGE THE CHILD ALONE: 1. THE UNSEEN PLAYMATE by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON SUMMER RAINSTORM by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN FIVE LITTLE WANDERINGS: 4. MANHOOD by BERTON BRALEY THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: SMALL PEOPLE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |