Nursery Rhyme. LXXXIX. Proverbs.

[One version of the following song, which I believe to be the genuine one, is written on the last leaf of MS. Harl. 6580, between the lines of a fragment of an old charter, originally used for binding the book, in a hand of the end of the seventeenth century, but unfortunately it is scarcely adapted for the "ears polite" of modern days.]         A man of words and not of deeds,         Is like a garden full of weeds;         And when the weeds begin to grow,         It's like a garden full of snow;         And when the snow begins to fall,         It's like a bird upon the wall;         And when the bird away does fly,         It's like an eagle in the sky;         And when the sky begins to roar,         It's like a lion at the door;         And when the door begins to crack,         It's like a stick across your back;         And when your back begins to smart,         It's like a penknife in your heart;         And when your heart begins to bleed,         You're dead, and dead, and dead, indeed.