Our saucy boy Dick,
Had a nice little stick
Cut from a hawthorn tree;
And with this pretty stick,
He thought he could beat
A boy much bigger than he.
But the boy turned round,
And hit him a rebound,
Which did so frighten poor Dick,
That, without more delay,
He ran quite away,
And over a hedge he jumped quick.
Nursery Rhyme. Lxxviii. Tales.
Unknown
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Poem topics: away, poor, tree, hedge, pretty, thought, delay, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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