human
Can you write me a poem about tripe?
assistant
Sure, here's a poem about tripe:
  "Where does your grandmamma live?" asked the wolf.
"Quite in the middle of the wood," she replied.
And then there were the merry, cunning little squirrels to watch,
"Who is there?" asked the old dame.
"Grandmamma," she said, "what a great nose you have."
"All the better to smell with, my dear," said the wolf.
"And, grandmamma, what large ears you have."
"All the better to hear with, my dear."
"Ah! grandmamma, and what large eyes you have."
The miller's son had very little money, but he thought it such a
respects."
"Yes, so I can," said the ogre.
Went to the cupboard
To get her poor Dog a bone;
But when she came there
The cupboard was bare,
And so the poor Dog had none.
She went to the baker's
To buy him some bread,
But when she came back
The poor Dog looked dead.
She went to the hatter's
To buy him a hat,
But when she came back
He was feeding the cat.
She went to the barber's
To buy him a wig,
But when she came back
He was dancing a jig.
She went to the joiner's
To buy him a coffin,
But when she came back
The poor Dog was laughing.
She took a clean dish
To get him some tripe,
But when she came back
He was smoking a pipe.
She went to the ale-house
To get him some beer,
But when she came back
The Dog sat in a chair.
She went to the tavern
For white wine and red,
But when she came back
The Dog stood on his head.
She went to the fruiterer's
To buy him some fruit,
But when she came back
He was playing the flute.
She went to the tailor's,
To buy him a coat,
But when she came back
He was riding a goat.
She went to the sempstress
To buy him some linen,
But when she came back
The Dog was a-spinning.
She went to the hosier's
To buy him some hose,
But when she came back
He was dressed in his clothes.
She went to the cobbler's
To buy him some shoes,
But when she came back
He was reading the news.
The Dame made a curtsey,
The Dog made a bow;
The Dame said, "Your servant;"
The Dog said, "Bow-wow!"
This wonderful Dog
Was Dame Hubbard's delight;
He could sing, he could dance,
He could read, he could write.
So she gave him rich dainties
Whenever he fed,
And erected a monument
When he was dead.
Who killed Cock Robin?
I, said the Sparrow,
With my bow and arrow.
I killed Cock Robin.
Who saw him die?
I, said the Fly,
With my little eye.
I saw him die.
Who caught his blood?
I, said the Fish,
With my little dish.
I caught his blood.
Who'll carry him to the grave?
I, said the Kite,
If it's not in the night.
I'll carry him to the grave.
Who'll carry the link?
I, said the Linnet,
I'll fetch it in a minute.
I'll carry the link.
Who'll make his shroud?
I, said the Beetle,
With my thread and needle.
I'll make his shroud.
Who'll dig his grave?
I, said the Owl,
I'll dig his grave.
Who'll toll the bell?
I, said the Bull,
Because I can pull.
I'll pull the bell.
Who'll be the Parson?
I, said the Rook,
With my little book.
I'll be the Parson.
Who'll be the Clerk?
I, said the Lark,
If it's not in the dark.
I'll be the Clerk.
Who'll be chief mourner?
I, said the Dove,
For I mourn for my love.
I'll be chief mourner.
Who'll sing a psalm?
I, said the Thrush,
As she sat in a bush.
I'll sing a psalm.
All the birds of the air
Fell a-sighing and sobbing
When they heard the bell toll
For poor Cock Robin.
Jack was a giddy, thoughtless boy, but very kind-hearted and
When he brought them home to his mother instead of the money she
disappeared, and of course Jack knew she was a fairy.
I smell the breath of an Englishman."
Then the giant came in, saying:
I smell the breath of an Englishman."
house-work.
But at that moment she heard her husband's step approaching.
I smell the blood of an Englishman."
The next moment his great feet were on the bean-stalk.
"Mother, mother! bring me the axe," cried Jack.
"Such were his deeds and noble acts
In Arthur's court there shone,
As like in all the world beside
Was hardly seen or known."
"I wish you would take me to the ball with you," said Cinderella,
Diamonds shone in her hair and on her neck and arms, and her kind
"Now go to the ball, my love," she said, "and enjoy yourself. But
godmother arrived.
"I wonder if Princess Beauty will be there!" said the sisters to
beggar-girl.
When the milk was poured out, the three bears set out for a walk.
Mr. and Mrs. Bear walked arm-in-arm, and Baby ran by their side.
"WHAT A FINE DAY IT IS!" growled Mr. Bear.
"WHAT A FINE DAY IT IS!" said Mrs. Bear.
"What a fine day!" squeaked little Bear.
And so it was.
The sun shone brightly though it was low in the sky, and its rays
"What a squeaky noise these creatures make!" said big Bear, as he
And thus conversing, the bears walked on.
"Come up, come up, Golden Hair; here is your happy home."
"Coo, I love you; coo, I love you!" cooed the wood-pigeon, as she
"Twit, twit, pretty child," said the sparrow.
Love makes love.
Dear little Golden Hair, she went on singing merrily through the
greenwood, saying sometimes to herself--
"I wish I could sing as well as the lark!"
So she tapped at the door, and cried, "Is any one at home?"
"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN HERE;" and Father Bear growled,
And Mother Bear growled, more softly,
And Mother Bear growled, "WHO HAS TOUCHED MY BASIN?"
And Tiny Bear squeaked, "SOMEBODY HAS BROKEN MINE!"
And Mother Bear growled
And Tiny Bear squeaked out,
Then Father Bear growled,
And Mother Bear growled, "LET US EAT HER UP;"
And Tiny Bear squeaked,
Mr. Punch and his wife
Led a terrible life,
Very much like a dog and a cat;
Till, one summer morn
A baby was born,
A darling all dimples and fat.
Mrs. Judy was proud,
And the nurses allowed
That they never had seen such a child;
And the proud mother thought
When her baby she brought
To her husband, "It must make him mild."
Mr. Punch was quite pleased;
The poor baby he seized,
And danced up and down in great joy.
"Oh, my Judy," he cried,
"With a father's just pride,
I look on our beautiful boy."
But the baby soon cried;
Punch's temper was tried,
And in a great passion he flew;
He shook the poor child,
And, with rage growing wild,
The babe o'er the balcony threw.
Judy, greatly displeased,
A thick stick at once seized,
And began her stern husband to beat;
"O you monster," she cried,
As her weapon she plied,
"You deserve the same ending to meet."
On his arms and his head
Her blows fell like lead;
She wonder'd such treatment he stood!
Beating and battering,
She made such a clattering,
It sounded like chopping up wood.
Of his beating quite tired,
Punch's patience expired;
He snatched the stick out of her hands,
And gave Judy a blow
Which, alas, laid her low,
And above her a conqueror stands.
Then he danced and he sang,
And such nonsense began,
That we laughed, though we couldn't tell why;
For in such a sad case
It were much more our place
For Judy's misfortunes to cry.
But the constable see!--
"Are you come here for me?"
Cries Punch, as he dances about.
"Yes, yes; come to jail,
'Tis a terrible tale,"
Said the constable, "you must come out,
"And be tried for your life,
For thus killing your wife;
In prison, meantime, you'll abide."
Cried Punch, and a blow
He gave the poor man in his side.
Whom we must not forget,
A dog known as Toby by name;
A clown from a show
One day came to know
If Punch would not sell him the same.
But Punch would not part
From his dog, for his heart
(Though a wooden one) to him was true.
He cried, "Give me a kiss,
I never will sever from you."
But Jack Ketch comes at last;
Punch's frolics are past,
There is no one his cause to befriend;
His nonsense and fun
Are all, alas, done;
He has come to a very bad end!
If he were not of wood
It would not be good
To laugh at the harm he has done;
But 'twas only pretence,
And there was not much sense
In his crimes, or his grief, or his fun.
For a great many years,
Punch's laughter and tears,
Have amused both the child and the man;
So I think at the last,
For the sake of the past
We will keep him as long as we can.
Is a very valuable animal; indeed I do not know what we should do
contained a great many wild bulls and cows.
The hen sits on her eggs for three weeks; and when the chicks are
She sat on a tuffet,
Eating of curds and whey.
There came a great spider,
Who sat down beside her,
And frightened Miss Muffet away.
Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake, baker's man,
Make me a cake as fast as you can;
Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with T,
And send it home for Tommy and me.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall;
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Could not set Humpty Dumpty up again.
Young lambs to sell!--young lambs to sell!
If I had as much money as I could tell,
I never would cry, Young lambs to sell!
Young lambs to sell!--young lambs to sell!
I never would cry, Young lambs to sell!
Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree,
Says little Robin Redbreast, "Catch me if you can."
Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a wall,
Handy Spandy Jack-a-Dandy
Loved plumcake and sugar candy;
He bought some at a grocer's shop,
And out he came, hop, hop, hop.
Little Boy Blue, come blow up your horn,
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn.
Where's the little boy that looks after the sheep?
He is under the hay-cock fast asleep.
This little pig went to market;
This little pig stayed at home;
This pig had a piece of bread-and-butter;
This little pig had none;
This little pig said, "Wee, wee, wee!
I can't find my way home."
Little Jack Horner sat in a corner,
He put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum,
And said, "What a good boy am I!"
To market, to market, to buy a fat pig;
Home again, home again, jiggetty-jig.
To market, to market, to buy a fat hog;
Home again, home again, jiggetty-jog.
Taffy was a thief;
Taffy came to my house
And stole a piece of beef.
I went to Taffy's house,
Taffy was from home;
Taffy came to my house
And stole a marrow bone.
Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes, marry, have I,
Three bags full:
One for my master,
One for my dame;
But none for the little girl
That cries in the lane.
Pretty maid, pretty maid, where have you been?
Gathering a posie to give to the Queen.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
Silver bells and cockle-shells,
And columbines all of a row.
Little Bo-Peep has lost his sheep,
And cannot tell where to find them
Leave them alone, and they'll come home,
And bring their tails behind them.
Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep,
And dreamt he heard them bleating
When he awoke, he found it a joke,
For still they all were fleeting.
Then up he took his little crook,
Determined for to find them;
He found them indeed, but it made his heart bleed,
For they'd left their tails behind them.
One a penny, two a penny, Hot Cross Buns.
If you have no daughters, give them to your sons.
Hey diddle diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon,
The little dog laughed
To see the sport,
While the dish ran after the spoon.
She made some tarts
Upon a summer day;
He stole those tarts,
And took them quite away.
He missed those tarts,
And beat the knave full sore;
Brought back those tarts,
And vowed he'd steal no more.
I had a little husband,
No bigger than my thumb;
I put him in a pint-pot,
And there I bid him drum.
I bought a little horse,
That galloped up and down;
I bridled him and saddled him,
And sent him out of town.
I gave him some garters,
To garter up his hose,
And a little handkerchief
To wipe his pretty nose.
Where shall I wander?
Up stairs, down stairs,
In my lady's chamber.
That would not say his prayers;
I took him by the left leg,
And threw him down stairs.
Sat among the cinders,
Warming her pretty little toes;
Her mother came and caught her,
And scolded her little daughter,
For spoiling her nice new clothes.
Who put her in?
Who pulled her out?
What a naughty boy was that,
Who never did him any harm,
But killed the mice in his father's barn.
Multiplication is vexation;
Division is as bad;
The Rule of Three doth puzzle me,
And Practice drives me mad.
I had a little pony,
His name was Dapple Grey,
I lent him to a lady,
To ride a mile away.
She whipped him, she slashed him,
She rode him through the mire;
I would not lend my pony now,
For all the lady's hire.
Old woman, old woman, old woman say I,
O whither, O whither, O whither so high?
To sweep the cobwebs off the sky.
Shall I go with you? Ay, by-and-by.
Led a peaceable life
When they were not troubled
With other folks' strife.
When Dame had her dinner
Puss near her would wait,
And was sure to receive
A nice piece from her plate.
Simple Simon met a pieman
Going to the fair;
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Let me taste your ware."
Says the pieman to Simple Simon,
"Show me first your penny."
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Indeed, I have not any."
Simple Simon went a-fishing
For to catch a whale;
All the water he had got
Was in his mother's pail.
Mary had a pretty bird,
With feathers bright and yellow,
Slender legs--upon my word,
He was a pretty fellow.
The sweetest notes he always sang,
Which much delighted Mary;
And near the cage she'd ever sit,
To hear her own Canary.
Is John Smith within?
Yes, that he is.
Can he set a shoe?
Ay, marry, two;
Here a nail and there a nail,
Tick, tack, too.
Please to remember
The fifth of November,
Gunpowder treason and plot.
I know no reason
Why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down and broke his crown,
And Jill came tumbling after.
When little Fred went to bed,
He always said his prayers.
He kissed mamma and then papa,
And straightway went upstairs.
Sings for his supper.
What shall he eat?
White bread and butter.
How shall he cut it
Without e'er a knife?
How will he be married
Without e'er a wife.
Where are you going, my pretty maid?
I'm going a milking, sir, she said.
May I go with you, my pretty maid?
You're kindly welcome, sir, she said.
What is your fortune, my pretty maid?
My face is my fortune, sir, she said.
Then I won't marry you, my pretty maid.
Nobody asked you, sir, she said.
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
To see an old lady upon a white horse;
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
And so she makes music wherever she goes.
Sing a song of sixpence,
A bag full of rye;
Four-and-twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened
The birds began to sing.
Was not that a dainty dish
To set before the king?
The king was in his countinghouse,
Counting out his money;
The queen was in the parlour,
Eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden,
Hanging out the clothes;
'Long came a blackbird
And snapt off her nose.
Tom, Tom, the piper's son,
Stole a pig and away he run!
The pig was eat, and Tom was beat,
And Tom went roaring down the street.
Was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he!
He called for his pipe,
And he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Every fiddler he had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he!
Twee tweedle dee, tweedle dee went the fiddlers.
Oh, there's none so rare
As can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three!
Four-and-twenty tailors went to kill a snail;
The best man among them durst not touch her tail.
She put out her horns like a little Kyloe cow.
Run, tailors, run, or she'll kill you all e'en now.
Hush-a-by, baby, thy cradle is green;
Father's a nobleman; mother's a queen;
Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring,
And Johnny's a drummer and drums for the king.