I  leave you with some snippets from poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, that are a joy to behold - in part due to metrical qualities...but mostly due to its hilarity.

Coleridge's Anima Poetae:

"A child scolding a flower in the words in which he had been himself scolded and whipped..."

...from "Gutch Memorandum Book" (Late 1700)

"An ideot [sic] whose whole amusement consisted in looking at, and taking to a clock - which he supposed to be alive--the Clock was removed--He suposed that it had walked off--and he went to seek it--was absent nine days---at last they found [him], almost famished in a field--He asked where it was buried--for he was sure it was dead--he was brought home and the clock in its place--his joy, etc. He used to put part of every thing he liked into the clock case."