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In good King Arthur's reign Tom's history first begun, 
 A farmer's wife had sigh'd in vain to have a darling son, 
 A fairy listen'd to her call, and granted her the same, 
 But being very small, Tom Thumb she did him name. 
 
 To please him every means she'd take, 
 And a pudding large for him did make; 
 But in trying to obtain a sip, 
 Into the batter he did slip ! 
 The batter into the pot went plump, 
 Tom made the pudding skip and jump! 
 His mother with afright, did this espy, 
 And gave it to a tinker passing by ; 
 Tom scream'd so loud, that in dismay, 
 He threw it down, and ran away. 
 
Tom to the fields with his mother went, 
 To milk the cow was her intent; 
 The wind blew high as they did walk, 
 So she tied him to a thistle stalk; 
 The cow the thistle view'd and eropt, 
 In her month, with Tom it soon was pop'd ! 
 Her teeth pnt Tom in such a fright, 
 He "mother" bawled with all his might ! 
 The cow, on hearing such a rout, 
 Opened her jaws and Tom fell out. 
 Our hero great exploits went through; 
 His bed was made in his father's shoe : 
 At length a Fairy by her art, 
 In a gale, sent Tom to Arthur- court. 
 
King Arthur loved f 
 
 good furmenty — 
 The cook made a 
 bowl for his majesty, 
 In conveying it to the 
 
 palace hot, 
 Our hero into the 
 
 bowl did drop. 
 The cook was fill'd 
 
 with great surprise, 
 For the liquor burut 
 
 his nose and eyes. 
 The bowl being broke 
 
 the angry cook, 
 Before the king our 
 
 hero took ; 
 When the king beheld 
 
 Tom's auful plight, 
 He pardon gave and 
 
 dubb'd him knight. 
 
 Tom in the palace, 
 lived content ; 
 
 To hunt with the king 
 on a mouse he went: 
 
 One day, a cat the 
 mouse espied, 
 
 And soon to catch 
 him pussy tried ; 
 
 Tom drew his sword 
 and spoilt her treat 
 
 By slaying pussy 
 at his feet. 
 
 Thus Tom lived hap- 
 py — without strife, 
 
 Till the queen in an- 
 srer, sought his life. 
 
 In the palace no lon- 
 ger could he stay ; 
 
 So on a butterfly he 
 he rode away. 
 
r 
 
 At last, oh direful 
 
 tale to tell, 
 In a spider's web 
 
 our hero fell, 
 The spider ran to 
 
 sieze his prey ; 
 Tom with his sword 
 
 fought valiantly ; 
 Till alas ! the spider's 
 
 poisonous breath 
 Was the cause of our 
 gallant hero's death 
 In a bower of roses his 
 
 tomb they rear'd, 
 And on it this epi- 
 taph appear'd : — 
 
 Of life deprived, by 
 a spider's bite, 
 Here li s Tom Thumb 
 
 a valiant Knight, 
 His feats in Arthur's 
 
 Court, and sight, 
 Fill'd all with wonder 
 
 and delight. 
 He was bold at tilt 
 
 and tournament, 
 To hunt Avith the king 
 on a mouse he went. 
 
 His deeds were great, 
 tho' his size was small 
 His death was mourn- 
 by one and all. 
 Then Reader, pause; 
 
 one tear now shed, 
 And cry 'Alas Tom 
 Thumb is dead.' " 
 
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A, PARK, 
 
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