The Ass goes, and returns not,
Nor drinks the Water,
That drowns not the Fire,
That burns not the Whip,
That thrashes not the Doggie,
That bites not the Johnnie,
Who chases not the Nanny, that eats the grapes,
Down in the garden.
“Ho! Sword!” says the master,
“Go kill that Ass there,
That drinks not the Water,
That drowns not the Fire,
That burns not the Whip,
That thrashes not the Doggie,
That bites not the Johnnie,
Who chases not the Nanny, that eats the grapes,
Down in the garden.”
The Sword goes, and returns not,
Nor kills the Ass,
That drinks not the Water,
That drowns not the Fire,
That burns not the Whip,
That thrashes not the Doggie,
That bites not the Johnnie,
Who chases not the Nanny, that eats the grapes,
Down in the garden.
Says the master: “Then ’tis I
That thither to the chase must hie;”
He takes a bound across the grass,
And the Sword runs to kill the Ass,
The Ass to Water runs and drinks,
When Water runs the Fire shrinks,
The Fire to burn the Whip now hastens,
The Whip in haste the slow Dog chastens,
And Johnnie now he runs to bite,
Who quick on Nanny vents his spite,
Nanny who ate the grapes of late,
And master shuts the garden gate.
The fox looked out one moonlight night,
And called to the stars to give him light,
For he’d a long way to go, over the snow,
Before he could reach his den-oh!
Old Mother Prittle-Prattle jumped out of bed,
And out of the window she popped her head,
“John! John! John! the grey goose is gone,
And the fox is off to his den-oh!”
The fox he got quite safe to his den,
And to his little ones—eight—nine—ten,
The fox and his wife they ate the goose,
And the little ones picked the bones-oh!