The Sleeping Beauty Picture Book — Edition Insights

Angry was she, because her place and dish had been forgot, And angry things she muttered long, and kept her anger hot.

Until the Fairy godmothers their gifts and wishes gave: She waited long to spoil the gifts, and her revenge to have. One gave the Princess goodness, and one gave her beauty rare; One gave her sweetest singing voice; one, gracious mien and air; One, skill in dancing; one, all cleverness; and then the crone Came forth, and muttered, angry still, and good gift gave she none;

But said, that in the future years the Princess young should die, By pricking of a spindle-point--ah, woeful prophecy! But now, a kind young Fairy, who had waited to the last, Stepped forth, and said, "No, she shall sleep till a hundred years are past; And then she shall be wakened by a King's son--truth I tell-- And he will take her for his wife, and all will yet be well."

In vain in all her father's Court the spinning-wheel's forbid In vain in all the country-side the spindles sharp are hid; For in a lonely turret high, and up a winding stair, There lives an ancient woman who still turns her wheel with care. The Princess found her out one day, and tried to learn to spin; Alas! the spindle pricked her hand--the charm had entered in!

And down she falls in death-like sleep: they lay her on her bed, And all around her sink to rest--a palace of the dead! A hundred years pass--still they sleep, and all around the place A wood of thorns has risen up--no path a man can trace. At last, a King's son, in the hunt, asked how long it had stood, And what old towers were those he saw above the ancient wood.

An aged peasant told of an enchanted palace, where A sleeping King and Court lay hid, and sleeping Princess fair. Through the thick wood, that gave him way, and past the thorns that drew Their sharpest points another way, the King's son presses through. He reached the guard, the court, the hall,--and there, where'er he stept, He saw the sentinels, and grooms, and courtiers as they slept.

Ladies in act to smile, and pages in attendance wait; The horses slept within their stalls, the dogs about the gate. The King's son presses on, into an inner chamber fair, And sees, laid on a silken bed, a lovely lady there; So sweet a face, so fair--was never beauty such as this; He stands--he stoops to gaze--he kneels--he wakes her with a kiss.

He leads her forth: the magic sleep of all the Court is o'er,-- They wake, they move, they talk, they laugh, just as they did of yore A hundred years ago. The King and Queen awake, and tell How all has happed, rejoicing much that all has ended well. They hold the wedding that same day, with mirth and feasting good-- The wedding of the Prince and Sleeping Beauty in the Wood.

As I was going up Pippin Hill Pippin hill was dirty. There I met a pretty miss, And she dropped me a curtsy.

Boys and girls come out to play. The moon doth shine as bright as day: Come with a whoop, come with a call, Come with a good will, or not at all.

Cuckoo, cherry tree Come down & tell me How many years I have to live!

Ding, dong, bell, Pussy's in the well. Who put her in? Naughty Johnny Green. Who pulled her out? Little Tommy Trout.

Early to bed, and early to rise, Is the way to be healthy, wealthy, and wise.

For every evil under the sun There is a remedy, or there is none. If there be one, try and find it; If there be none, never mind it.

Great A, little A; Bouncing B; The cat's in the cupboard. And she can't see me.

Hark! hark! the dogs do bark, The Beggars are coming to town. Some in rags & some in jag's And some in velvet gowns.

I had a little pony They called it Dapple Gray, I lent it to a lady To ride a mile away. She whipped it, she slashed it, She drove it through the mire. I will not lend my pony more, For all the ladies' hire.

John Smith, fellow fine, Can you shoe this horse o' mine? Yes, indeed, and that I can As well as any man! There's a nail upon the tae, &c To make the powny speel the brae; There's a nail and there's a brod --a horse weel shod.

King o' Katchem met a king In a narrow lane; Says this king to that king "Where have you been?"