When we were very youngMilne, A. A. (Alan Alexander)
General
When we were very young
Milne, A. A. (Alan Alexander)
Children's poetry, English
The Queen said
“Oh!”
And went to
His Majesty:
“Talking of the butter for
The Royal slice of bread,
Many people
Think that
Marmalade
Is nicer.
Would you like to try a little
Marmalade
Instead?”
[Illustration: Queen]
The King said,
“Bother!”
And then he said,
“Oh, deary me!”
The King sobbed, “Oh, deary me!”
And went back to bed.
“Nobody,”
He whimpered,
“Could call me
A fussy man;
I _only_ want
A little bit
Of butter for
My bread!”
[Illustration: King]
The Queen said,
“There, there!”
And went to
The Dairymaid.
The Dairymaid
Said, “There, there!”
And went to the shed.
The cow said,
“There, there!
I didn’t really
Mean it;
Here’s milk for his porringer
And butter for his bread.”
[Illustration: Woman and cow dancing]
The Queen took
The butter
And brought it to
His Majesty;
The King said,
“Butter, eh?”
And bounced out of bed.
“Nobody,” he said,
As he kissed her
Tenderly,
“Nobody,” he said,
As he slid down
The banisters,
“Nobody,
My darling,
Could call me
A fussy man—
BUT
“_I do like a little bit of butter to my bread!_”
[Illustration: King and queen dancing]
HOPPITY
Christopher Robin goes
Hoppity, hoppity,
[Illustration: Boy hopping]
Hoppity, hoppity, hop.
Whenever I tell him
Politely to stop it, he
Says he can’t possibly stop.
[Illustration: Boy hopping]
If he stopped hopping, he couldn’t go anywhere,
Poor little Christopher
Couldn’t go anywhere . . .
That’s why he _always_ goes
Hoppity, hoppity,
Hoppity,
Hoppity,
Hop.
[Illustration: Boy hopping]
[Illustration: Toy soldiers with cake]
AT HOME
I want a soldier
(A soldier in a busby),
I want a soldier to come and play with me.
I’d give him cream-cakes
(Big ones, sugar ones),
I’d give him cream-cakes and cream for his tea.
I want a soldier
(A tall one, a red one),
I want a soldier who plays on the drum.
Daddy’s going to get one
(He’s written to the shopman)
Daddy’s going to get one as soon as he can come.
[Illustration: Toy soldiers, one face down in cake]
[Illustration: Boy on porch speaking to man in open doorway]
THE WRONG HOUSE
I went into a house, and it wasn’t a house,
It has big steps and a great big hall;
But it hasn’t got a garden,
A garden,
A garden,
It isn’t like a house at all.
I went into a house, and it wasn’t a house,
It has a big garden and great high wall;
But it hasn’t got a may-tree,
A may-tree,
A may-tree,
It isn’t like a house at all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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