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A Song About Myself

I.
There was a naughty boy,
  A naughty boy was he,
He would not stop at home,
  He could not quiet be-
    He took
    In his knapsack
    A book
    Full of vowels
    And a shirt
    With some towels,
    A slight cap
    For night cap,
    A hair brush,
    Comb ditto,
    New stockings
    For old ones
    Would split O!
    This knapsack
    Tight at's back
    He rivetted close
  And followed his nose
    To the north,
    To the north,
  And follow'd his nose
    To the north.

II.
There was a naughty boy
  And a naughty boy was he,
For nothing would he do
  But scribble poetry-
    He took
    An ink stand
    In his hand
    And a pen
    Big as ten
    In the other,
    And away
    In a pother
    He ran
    To the mountains
    And fountains
    And ghostes
    And postes
    And witches
    And ditches
    And wrote
    In his coat
    When the weather
    Was cool,
    Fear of gout,
    And without
    When the weather
    Was warm-
    Och the charm
    When we choose
  To follow one's nose
    To the north,
    To the north,
  To follow one's nose
    To the north!

III.
There was a naughty boy
  And a naughty boy was he,
He kept little fishes
  In washing tubs three
    In spite
    Of the might
    Of the maid
    Nor afraid
    Of his Granny-good-
    He often would
    Hurly burly
    Get up early
    And go
    By hook or crook
    To the brook
    And bring home
    Miller's thumb,
    Tittlebat
    Not over fat,
    Minnows small
    As the stall
    Of a glove,
    Not above
    The size
    Of a nice
    Little baby's
    Little fingers-
    O he made
    'Twas his trade
  Of fish a pretty kettle
    A kettle-
    A kettle
  Of fish a pretty kettle
    A kettle!

IV.
There was a naughty boy,
  And a naughty boy was he,
He ran away to Scotland
  The people for to see-
    There he found
    That the ground
    Was as hard,
    That a yard
    Was as long,
    That a song
    Was as merry,
    That a cherry
    Was as red,
    That lead
    Was as weighty,
    That fourscore
    Was as eighty,
    That a door
    Was as wooden
    As in England-
  So he stood in his shoes
    And he wonder'd,
    He wonder'd,
  He stood in his
    Shoes and he wonder'd.

Notes

'In a letter to his sister, Keats makes a fresh start with -- "since I scribbled the Song we have walked through a beautiful Country to Kirkcudbright -- at which place I will write you a song about myself." He then proceeds with the very curious piece of doggerel now first given from the manuscript, and excuses himself on the plea of fatigue. My chief purpose in including these verses here is that students may note the variety of the pieces of this class addressed to different correspondents. Compare this with the Devon pieces sent to Haydon, and more particularly with The Gadfly, sent to Tom Keats a little later than this. I presume this piece should be dated the 3rd of July 1818.

(stanza 2): This is a genuine autobiographic reminiscence of the time when the young Keatses lived with their grandmother after the death of their parents.

(stanza 4): There is an under-current of dissatisfaction with things Caledonian in this fourth stanza; and indeed I do not think Keats ever got entirely rid of this during the whole of the tour, albeit he enjoyed many transient visitations of true enthusiasm inspired both by fine scenery and by associations.

~ Poetical Works of John Keats, ed. H. Buxton Forman, Crowell publ. 1895.

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Comments


  • hamid
    July 9
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    He would not stop at home,
    He could not quiet be-
    from these we can understand that John Keats have written this poem in his early hood or after remembering the childhood,
    any how its simple but heart touching, he express the annocent thoughts of child in his own way, which is the best!


  • February 29
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    John Keats

    From guest Joji Culliford (contact)
    this was written 1818 John Keats was no longer a young boy but a young man age 23, the age when most of us go backpacking to see places and learn about other people or learn whatever curiousity presents to us leaving indelible marks in our consciousness at his age i wouldn't know a score is twenty years

  • rhondasail
    June 6, 2007

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    I understand the commentaries regarding this piece, but for me, it seems the'naughty boy' takes no joy in the realization that all people and all places have 'rules of behavior' that he must follow. And being the naughty boy he is, he wonders at this, and wonders and wonders...I wonder what his futher actions would be had the piece more body, but still the rhyme is fun and frolicky and the imagery makes the reader smile if not laugh outright. A good read with a childlike sense of the world. Peace, Rhonda


  • I-Like-Rhymes Moderators member
    June 5, 2007
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    A delightful piece of rambling. One can feel the poet's exhuberance and joie de vie in every line.


  • Ahkam Moderators member
    December 11, 2006

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    The People for to see

    This is a very sweet and simple rhyme but something really wonderful is in the stanza VI, and that is...
    "He ran away to Scotland
    The people for to see-"
    and ...there is nothing about the people in the following lines...and at the end , the extempore expression of the poet and the naughty by is...
    "He stood in his
    Shoes and he wonder'd. "
    So he wondered that he was there ,,,the people for to see...and if every other thing is the same as that was in England then how could the people be different? ..well, I myself do wonder about that.