Nursery Rhyme. DCLVII. Relics.

    To market, to market, to buy a plum-cake,
    Back again, back again, baby is late;
    To market, to market, to buy a plum-bun,
    Back again, back again, market is done.

Unknown

Unknown

The identity of this poet is not known. Their works, which are often of significant historical or cultural value, have been attributed to 'Unknown'. This designation is commonly used when the creator of works, ranging from ancient texts to more modern writings, remains anonymous or uncredited. Despite the lack of personal details, the impact and importance of these works endure, offering insight into the eras and cultures from which they originated.

Unknown

Pidgin

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Nursery Rhyme. CCCCII. Lullabies.

    To market, to market,
        To buy a plum cake;
    Home again, home again,
        Ne'er a one baked;
    The baker is dead and all his men,
    And we must go to market again.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. CCCLXXXII. Lullabies.

        [The following is quoted in Florio's 'New World of Words,' fol., London, 1611, p. 3.]

    To market, to market,
        To buy a plum bun:
    Home again, come again,
        Market is done.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DCXXVII. Relics.

    To market, to market, a gallop, a trot,
    To buy some meat to put in the pot;
    Threepence a quarter, a groat a side,
    If it hadn't been kill'd, it must have died.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DCLII. Relics.

    As I was going to sell my eggs,
    I met a man with bandy legs,
    Bandy legs and crooked toes,
    I tripped up his heels, and he fell on his nose.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DCXVII. Relics.

    Girls and boys, come out to play,
    The moon doth shine as bright as day;
    Leave your supper, and leave your sleep,
    And come with your playfellows into the street.
    Come with a whoop, come with a call,
    Come with a good will or not at all.
    Up the ladder and down the wall,
    A halfpenny roll will serve us all.
    You find milk, and I'll find flour,
    And we'll have a pudding in half an hour.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. DCXLIV. Relics.

    The quaker's wife got up to bake,
        Her children all about her,
    She gave them every one a cake,
        And the miller wants his moulter.

Unknown