THERE was an old woman tossed up in a basket, Seventeen times as high as the moon; Where she was going I couldn't but ask it, For in her hand she carried a broom. Old woman, old woman, old woman, quoth I, Where are you going to up so high? To brush the cobwebs off the sky! May I go with you? Aye, by-and-by. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PITCHER by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN THE LITTLE CLOUD by JOHN HOWARD BRYANT A SCENE ON THE BANKS OF THE HUDSON by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT EPISTLE FROM ESOPUS TO MARIA by ROBERT BURNS AUF WIEDERSEHEN by HARRY SAFFORD CANDEE TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. THE CENTRAL CALM by EDWARD CARPENTER THE HEAVEN THAT'S HERE by ALICE CARY CARMINA: 85 by GAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS SONG OF THE THREE SEEDS IN THE MACAW'S BEAK by ELIZABETH JANE COATSWORTH |