ENTER THE U.S. POLITICS ONLINE DISCUSSION FORUM
Note: The text below is in the public domain. This text is offered to the general public for non-profit educational purposes. U.S. Politics Online does not own any copyrights pertaining to the text. Any copyrights that may exist as to the format, translation, etc., resides with the respective author/formatter, not U.S. Politics Online. U.S. Politics Online did convert the original text file into html. Any errors with respect to formatting is a result of a program used to automate the process.
Due to the requirements for redistribution of this text by some of the sources, the original source from which I obtained the text at times will not be disclosed. If you would like information with respect to where I obtained the text then please send me an e-mail: archives@uspoliticsonline.com. Such sources are not liable in any way for the text here. I would simply provide you with information where you can find the original text of the document, which may or may not be identical to what you see here. I have made every attempt to comply with the wishes of the sources of these documents. If an error is found with respect to such compliance then please bring it to my attention immediately so the matter can be resolved.
Also, if you are the person responsible for converting the text to the electronic format and would like credit for your work in the document, please e-mail me and I would be more than happy to comply. Due to my conversion of these text documents into the html format and the possibility for errors to occur in said conversion, I did not want to inadvertently attribute such errors to you.
1816
OVER THE HILL AND OVER THE DALE
by John Keats
Over the hill and over the dale,
And over the bourn to Dawlish-
Where gingerbread wives have a scanty saleAnd gingerbread nuts are smallish.
Rantipole Betty she ran down a hillAnd kicked up her petticoats fairly;
Says I I'll be Jack if you will be Gill-So she sat on the grass debonairly.
Here's somebody coming, here's somebody coming!Says I 'tis the wind at a parley;
So without any fuss any hawing and hummingShe lay on the grass debonairly.
Here's somebody here and here's somebody there!Says I hold your tongue you young Gipsey;
So she held her tongue and lay plump and fairAnd dead as a Venus tipsy.
O who wouldn't hie to Dawlish fair,O who wouldn't stop in a Meadow,
O who would not rumple the daisies thereAnd make the wild fern for a bed do!
THE END
.