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| Alice In Wonderland (related Recordings) |
180426271.gif
I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged aged man,
A-sitting on agate.
‘Who are you, aged man?' I said.
‘And how is it you live?'
And his answer trickled through my head
Like water through a sieve.
He said, ‘I look for butterflies
That sleep among the wheat:
I make them into mutton-pies,
And sell them in the street.
I sell them unto men' he said,
‘Who sail on stormy seas;
And that's the way I get my bread-
A trifle, if you please.'
But I was thinking of a plan
To dye one's whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
That they could not be seen.
So, having no reply to give
To what the old man said,
I cried, ‘Come, tell me how you live!'
And thumped him on the head.
His accents mild took up the tale:
He said, ‘I go my ways,
And when I find a mountain-rill,
I set it in a blaze;
And thence they make a stuff they call
Rowland's Macassar Oil-
Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
They give me for my toil.'
But I was thinking of a way
To feed oneself on batter,
And so go on from day to day
Getting a little fatter.
I shook him well from side to side,
Until his face was blue:
‘Come, tell me how you live,' I cried,
‘And what it is you do!'
He said: ‘I hunt for haddocks' eyes
Among the heather bright,
And work them into waistcoat-buttons
In the silent night.
And these I do not sell for gold
Or coin of silvery shine,
But for a copper halfpenny,
And that will purchase nine.
I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
Or set limed twigs for crabs;
I sometimes search the grassy knolls
For wheels of Hansome-cabs.
And that's the way' (he gave a wink)
‘By which I get my wealth-
And very gladly will I drink
Your Honour's noble health.'
I heard him then, for I had just
Completed my design
To keep the Menai bridge from rust
By boiling it in wine.
I thanked him much for telling me
The way he got his wealth,
But chiefly for his wish that he
Might drink my noble health.
And now, if e'er by chance I put
My fingers into glue,
Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
Into a left-hand shoe,
Or if I drop upon my toe
A very heavy weight,
I weep, for it reminds me so
Of that old man I used to know-
Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
Whose face was very like a crow,
With eyes like cinders, all aglow,
Who seemed distracted with his woe,
Who rocked his body to and fro,
And muttered mumblingly and low,
As if his mouth were full of dough,
Who snorted like a buffalo-
That summer evening long ago
A-sitting on a gate.
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A-sitting on a gate.
That summer evening long ago
Who snorted like a buffalo-
As if his mouth were full of dough,
And muttered mumblingly and low,
Who rocked his body to and fro,
Who seemed distracted with his woe,
With eyes like cinders, all aglow,
Whose face was very like a crow,
Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
Of that old man I used to know-
I weep, for it reminds me so
A very heavy weight,
Or if I drop upon my toe
Into a left-hand shoe,
Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
My fingers into glue,
And now, if e'er by chance I put
Might drink my noble health.
But chiefly for his wish that he
The way he got his wealth,
I thanked him much for telling me
By boiling it in wine.
To keep the Menai bridge from rust
Completed my design
I heard him then, for I had just
Your Honour's noble health.'
And very gladly will I drink
‘By which I get my wealth-
And that's the way' (he gave a wink)
For wheels of Hansome-cabs.
I sometimes search the grassy knolls
Or set limed twigs for crabs;
I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
And that will purchase nine.
But for a copper halfpenny,
Or coin of silvery shine,
And these I do not sell for gold
In the silent night.
And work them into waistcoat-buttons
Among the heather bright,
He said: ‘I hunt for haddocks' eyes
‘And what it is you do!'
‘Come, tell me how you live,' I cried,
Until his face was blue:
I shook him well from side to side,
Getting a little fatter.
And so go on from day to day
To feed oneself on batter,
But I was thinking of a way
They give me for my toil.'
Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
Rowland's Macassar Oil-
And thence they make a stuff they call
I set it in a blaze;
And when I find a mountain-rill,
He said, ‘I go my ways,
His accents mild took up the tale:
And thumped him on the head.
I cried, ‘Come, tell me how you live!'
To what the old man said,
So, having no reply to give
That they could not be seen.
And always use so large a fan
To dye one's whiskers green,
But I was thinking of a plan
A trifle, if you please.'
And that's the way I get my bread-
‘Who sail on stormy seas;
I sell them unto men' he said,
And sell them in the street.
I make them into mutton-pies,
That sleep among the wheat:
He said, ‘I look for butterflies
Like water through a sieve.
And his answer trickled through my head
‘And how is it you live?'
‘Who are you, aged man?' I said.
A-sitting on agate.
I saw an aged aged man,
There's little to relate.
I'll tell thee everything I can;
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