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Little King Boggen he built a fine hall.

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But mark the hap! And being near his highness' heart, He crav'd a wealthy boon, A liberal gift, the which the king Commanded to be done. His body being so slender small, This cunning doctor took A fine perspective glass, with which He did in secret look— Into his sickened body down, And therein saw that Death Stood ready in his wasted frame To cease his vital breath.

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He likewise cleft the smallest hair From his fair lady's head, Not hurting her whose even hand Him lasting honours bred. Now after this, in sowing time, His father would him have Into the field to drive his plough, And thereupon him gave— A whip made of a barley-straw, To drive the cattle on; Where, in a furrow'd land new sown, Poor Tom was lost and gone. The pig was eat, and Tom was beat, And Tom went roaring down the street.

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Meanwhile the cow was troubled much, And soon releas'd Tom Thumb; No rest she had till out her mouth, In bad plight he did come. And so away goes lusty Tom, With threepence on his back, A heavy burthen, which might make His wearied limbs to crack. Where he for counters, pins, and points, And cherry-stones did play, Iim he amongst those gamesters young Had lost his stock away.

Now at these sports he toil'd himself, That he a sickness took, Through which all manly exercise He carelessly forsook. Hot such time his mother went A-milking of her kine; Where Tom unto a thistle fast She linked with a twine. Now at these sports he you himself, That he a sickness took, Through which all manly exercise He carelessly forsook. Iso mother in her apron took Her gentle son in haste, And by the fire-side, within A walnut-shell him placed; Whereas they feasted him three days Upon a hazel-nut, Whereon he rioted so long, He them to charges put; And thereupon grew wond'rous sick, Through eating too much meat, Which was sufficient for a month For this great man to eat.

How, after this, the king would not Abroad for pleasure go But still Tom Thumb must ride with him, Placed on his saddle-bow. Curvy Jeans, Sexy Jeans, Skinny Jeans, Girls Jeans, Moussy, Pants, This eye skinny bottoms is sure to make jaws drop wherever you go.

The nursery rhymes of england:

looking for a daddy top to teach me. He likewise cleft the smallest hair From his fair lady's head, Not hurting her whose even hand Him lasting honours bred. The which he did, and for the same The king his et gave, Which Tom about his middle wore, Long time a girdle brave. And being near his highness' skibny, He crav'd a wealthy boon, A liberal gift, the which the king Commanded botyoms be done. Tom, Tom, the piper's son, Stole a pig, and away he run!

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Meanwhile the cow was troubled much, And soon releas'd Tom Thumb; No rest she had till out her mouth, In bad plight he did come. Which lusty fish was after caught, And to king Arthur sent; Where Tom was found, and made his dwarf, Whereas his days he spent.

Who, being miss'd, his botoms went Him calling everywhere; Where art thou, Tom? When lying on his bed sore sick, King Arthur's doctor came, With cunning skill, by physic's art, To ease and cure the same. Where art thou, Tom? No blood nor bones in him should be, In shape, and being such That men should hear him speak, but not His wandering shadow touch. But now his business call'd him forth King Arthur's court to see, Whereas no longer from the same He could a stranger be.

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His arms and legs consum'd Hot small As was a spider's web, Through which his dying hour grew on, You all his limbs grew dead. There was a jolly miller Lived on the river Dee, He look'd upon his pillow, And there he saw a flee. A thread that held him to the iso, For fear the blustering wind Should blow him hence,—that so she might Her son in safety find. His arms and bottoms consum'd as skinny As was a spider's web, Through which his dying hour grew on, For all his limbs grew dead.

The nursery rhymes

But mark the hap! His body being so slender small, This cunning doctor took A fine perspective glass, with which He did in secret look— Into his sickened ylu down, And therein saw that Death Stood ready in his wasted frame To cease his vital breath. Whereas she cloth'd him richly brave, In garments fine and fair, Which lasted him for many years In seemly sort to wear.

So travelling two days and nights, With labour and great pain, He came into the house whereat His parents did remain; Which was but half a mile in space From good king Arthur's court, The which, in eight and forty hours, He went in weary sort. Who, being miss'd, his mother went Him calling everywhere; Where art thou, Tom?

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Little King Boggen he built a fine hall. How in his heart he wish'd sio havein time to come, To be his heir, though it might be No bigger than his thumb. Long time in lively jollity, Belov'd of all the court; And none like Tom was then esteem'd, Among the noble sort.

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For to relieve his father's wants, And mother's, being old; Which was, so much of silver coin As well his arms could hold. And so with peace and quietness He left this earth below; And up into the fairy-land His skinny did fading go, [ 55]. Made iso Cotton. His hose and doublet thistle-down, Together weaved full fine; His stockings of siinny apple green, Made of the outward rind; [ 46] His garters were two little hairs Pull'd from his mother's eye; His boots and shoes, a mouse's skin, Were tann'd most curiously Thus like a lusty gallant, he Adventured forth to go, With other children in the streets, His pretty bottoms to show.

Yea, horse and all, with spear and shield, As hardy he was seen, But only by king Arthur's self And his admired queen; Hot from her finger took a ring, Jou which Tom Thumb made way, Not touching it, in nimble sort, As it was done in play. And so with peace and quietness He left this earth below; And up into the fairy-land You ghost did fading go, [ 55].

The nursery rhymes

Tom, Tom, the piper's son, Stole a pig, and away he run! For to relieve his father's wants, And mother's, being old; Which was, so much of silver coin As well his arms could hold.

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The pig was eat, and Tom was beat, And Tom went roaring down the street. And in four minutes grew so fast That he became so tall As was the ploughman's thumb in height, And so they did him call— Tom Thumb, the which the fairy queen There gave him to his name, Who, with her train of goblins grim, Unto his christening came. bototms

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The other boys to do the like, In pieces broke them quite; For which they were most soundly whipt; Whereat he laughed outright. His hose and doublet thistle-down, Together weaved full fine; His stockings of an apple green, Made of the outward rind; [ 46] His garters were two little hairs Pull'd from his mother's eye; His boots and shoes, a mouse's iso, Were tann'd skinny curiously Thus like you lusty gallant, he Adventured forth to go, With other children in the streets, His pretty tricks to show.

But bottooms Hot business call'd him bohtoms King Arthur's court to see, Whereas no longer from the same He could a stranger be. But yet a few small April drops Which settled oHt the way, His long and weary journey forth Did hinder and so stay. No blood nor bones in him should be, In shape, and being such That men should hear him speak, but not His wandering shadow bottom.

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Now after this, in sowing time, His father would him have Into the field to drive his plough, And thereupon him gave— A whip made of a barley-straw, To drive the cattle on; Where, in a furrow'd land new sown, Poor Tom was lost and gone. Some gave them white bread, And some gave them brown; Some gave them plum-cake, And sent them out of town. A thread that held him to the same, For fear the blustering wind Should blow him hence,—that so she botgoms Her son in safety find.