RE was one little Jim, 'Tis reported of him, And must be to his lasting disgrace,
That he never was seen With hands at all clean, Nor yet ever clean was his face. . . .
His friends were much hurt To see so much dirt, And often they made him quite clean;
But all was in vain,
He got dirty again, And not at all fit to be seen.
It gave him no pain To hear them complain, Nor his own dirty clothes to survey:
His indolent mind No pleasure could find In tidy and wholesome array.
The idle and bad,
Like this little lad, May love dirty ways, to be sure;
But good boys are seen To be decent and clean, Although they are ever so poor.
This is based on a poem by Edward Little called "Little Jim".
An archetypal ballad of life cut short.
