In great King Arthur’s reign, Tom’s history first begun;

      A farmer’s wife had sigh’d in vain to have a darling son!

      A fairy listen’d to her call, and granted her the same;

      But being very small, Tom Thumb she did him name.

      To please him every means she’d take,

      And a pudding large did for him make;

      But in trying to obtain a sip,

      Into the batter did he slip!

      The batter in the pot went plump;

      Tom made the pudding skip and jump!

      His mother, with affright, did this espy,

      And gave it to a tinker passing by;

      Tom scream’d so loud, that, in dismay,

      He threw it down, and ran away.

      Tom to the fields with his mother went,

      To milk the cow was her intent;

      The wind blew high as they did walk,