There was an Old Man with a flute,
A serpent ran into his boot;
There was a Young Lady of Sweden,
Who went by the slow rain to Weedon;
There was an Old Man of the East,
Who gave all his children a feast;
There was an Old Person of Rhodes,
Who strongly objected to toads;
There was a Young Lady of Ryde,
Whose shoe-strings were seldom untied.
There was an old Lady of Winchelsea,
Who said, 'If you needle or pin shall see
There was an Old Man of Apulia,
Whose conduct was very peculiar
There was a Young Lady of Dorking,
Who bought a large bonnet for walking;
The was a Young Lady of Bute,
Who played on a silver-gilt flute;
There was an Old Man of Columbia,
Who was thirsty, and called out for some beer;
There was an old man who felt pert
When he wore a pale rose-coloured shirt.
There was a Young Lady of Troy,
Whom several large flies did annoy;
There was an Old Man of Marseilles,
Whose daughters wore bottle-green veils;
There was an old person of Paxo
Which complained when the fleas bit his back so,
There was an Old Man of Aôsta,
Who possessed a large cow, but he lost her;
There was an Old Man in a boat,
Who said, 'I'm afloat! I'm afloat!'
There was an Ol Man of Quebec,
A beetle ran over his neck;
There was an Old Sailor of Compton,
Whose vessel a rock it once bump'd on;
There was an Old Person of Sparta,
Who had twenty-one sons and one 'darter';
There was a Young Lady of Russia,
Who screamed so that no one could hush her;
There was an Old Man of the Nile,
Who sharpened his nails with a file,
There was an Old Man of Dundee,
Who frequented the top of a tree;
There was an Old Person of Rheims,
Who was troubled with horrible dreams;
There was an Old Man of Corfu,
Who never knew what he should do;
There was an Old Lady of Chertsey,
Who made a remarkable curtsey;
There was a young person whose history
Was always considered a mystery.
There was an Old Lady of Prague,
Whose language was horribly vague;
There was an Old Man who said, 'Hush!
I perceive a young bird in this bush!'
There was an Old Person of Cromer,
Who stood on one leg to read Homer;
There was an Old Person of Bangor,
Whose face was distorted with anger!
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