There was an Old Man of Nepaul, From his horse had a terrible fall… But, though split quite in two, By some very strong glue, They mended that Man of Nepaul.

On the Coast of Coromandel Where the early pumpkins blow, In the middle of the woods Lived the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò. Two old chairs, and half a candle,…

There was an Old Man of Kilkenny… Who never had more than a penny; He spent all that money, In onions and honey, That wayward Old Man of Kilkenny…

There was a Young Lady whose bonn… Came untied when the birds sate up… But she said: 'I don’t care! All the birds in the air Are welcome to sit on my bonnet!'

There was an Old Lady whose folly Induced her to sit in a holly: Whereupon by a thorn Her dress being torn, She quickly became melancholy.

There was an old man whose despair Induced him to purchase a hare: Whereon one fine day, He rode wholly away, Which partly assuaged his despair.

The Broom and the Shovel, the Po… They all took a drive in the Park… and they each sang a song, Ding-a-… Before they went back in the dark. Mr Poker he sate quite upright in…

There was a Young Lady of Hull, Who was chased by a virulent bull; But she seized on a spade, And called out, 'Who’s afraid?' Which distracted that virulent bul…

There was an Old Man of Madras, Who rode on a cream-coloured ass; But the length of its ears, So promoted his fears, That it killed that Old Man of M…

There was an Old Person of Berli… Whose form was uncommonly thin; Till he once, by mistake, Was mixed up in a cake, So they baked that Old Man of Be…

There was a Young Lady in White, Who looked out at the depths of th… But the birds of the air Filled her heart with despair, And oppressed that Young Lady in…

There was an Old Man of the Nort… Who fell into a basin of broth; But a laudable cook, Fished him out with a hook, Which saved that Old Man of the…

He lived at Dingle Bank– he did;… He lived at Dingle Bank; And in his garden was one Quail, Four tulips and a Tank: And from his window he could see

There was a Young Lady of Tyre, Who swept the loud chords of a lyr… At the sound of each sweep She enraptured the deep, And enchanted the city of Tyre.

There was a Young Person of Cret… Whose toilette was far from comple… She dressed in a sack, Spickle-speckled with black, That ombliferous person of Crete.