There was a snake that dwelt in Skye,
Over the misty sea, oh;
He lived upon nothing but gooseberry pie
For breakfast, dinner and tea, oh.
Now gooseberry pie—as is very well known,—
Over the misty sea, oh,
Is not to be found under every stone,
Nor yet upon every tree, oh.
And being so ill to please with his meat,
Over the misty sea, oh;
The snake had sometimes nothing to eat,
And an angry snake was he, oh.
Then he'd flick his tongue and his head he'd shake,
Over the misty sea, oh,
Crying, "Gooseberry pie! For goodness' sake,
Some gooseberry pie for me, oh."
And if gooseberry pie was not to be had,
Over the misty sea, oh,
He'd twine and twist like an eel gone mad,
Or a worm just stung by a bee, oh.
But though he might shout and wriggle about,
Over the misty sea, oh,
The snake had often to go without
His breakfast, dinner and tea, oh.
Henry Johnstone.
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