And in foure minutes grew so fast,
That he became so tall
As was the plowmans thumbe in height,
And so they did him call
Tom Thumbe, the which the Fayry-Queene
There gave him to his name,
Who, with her traine of Goblins grim,
Unto his christning came.
Whereas she cloath'd him richly brave,
In garments fine and faire,
Which lasted him for many yeares
In seemely sort to weare.
His hat made of an oaken leafe,
His shirt a spiders web,
Both light and soft for those his limbes
That were so smally bred;
His hose and doublet thistle downe,
Togeather weav'd full fine;
His stockins of an apple greene,
Made of the outward rine;
His garters were two little haires,
Pull'd from his mothers eye,
His bootes and shooes a mouses skin,
There tand most curiously.
Thus, like a lustie gallant, he
Adventured forth to goe,
With other children in the streets
His pretty trickes to show.
Where he for counters, pinns, and points,
And cherry stones did play,
Till he amongst those gamesters young
Had loste his stocke away,
Yet could he soone renew the same,
When as most nimbly he
Would dive into their cherry-baggs,
And there partaker be,
Unseene or felt by any one,
Untill a scholler shut
This nimble youth into a boxe,
Wherein his pins he put.