Old King Cole

Poem

by Anonymous

Volume: 10 | Page: 28

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Estimated reading time: 1 minute

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OLD King Cole Was a merry old soul, And a merry old soul washe; He called for his pipe, And he called for his bowl, And he called for his fiddlers three. Every fiddler, he had a fiddle, And a very fine fiddle had he ; Twee tweedle dee, tweedle dee, went the fiddlers. Oh, there's none so rare As can compare With King Cole and his fiddlers three!

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