A man of words and not of deedsIs like a garden full of weeds;
And when the weeds begin to grow,
It's like a garden full of snow;
And when the snow begins to fall,
It's like a bird upon the wall;
And when the bird away does fly,
It's like an eagle in the sky;
And when the sky begins to roar,
It's like a lion at the door;
And when the door begins to crack,
It's like a stick across your back;
And when your back begins to smart,
It's like a penknife in your heart;
And when your heart begins to bleed,
You're dead, and dead, and dead indeed.
2 comments:
Who wrote that? It's a good one!
It's good old Traditional Anonymous. I found this version in The Annotated Mother Goose. Iona and Peter Opie in The Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes say it is a ball-bouncing rhyme of "strange fascination".
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