THERE was a little man, and he had a little gun, And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead; He went to the brook, and shot a little duck, Right through the middle of the head, head, head. He carried it home to his old wife Joan, And bade her a fire for to make, make, make, To roast the little duck he had shot in the brook, And he'd go and fetch her the drake, drake, drake. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BATTLE HYMN OF THE RUSSIAN REPUBLIC by LOUIS UNTERMEYER ECHOES: 9 by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY FROM THE ANTIQUE (1) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE CARD-DEALER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 104 by ALFRED TENNYSON TO A HIGHLAND GIRL; AT INVERSNAID, UPON LOCH LOMOND by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |