[A]Mooncall—the cuckoo (Norfolk).
[A]Mooncall—the cuckoo (Norfolk).
Parson Peard,Be not afeard,Nor take it much in anger;We’ve bought your geeseAt a penny a piece,And left the money with the gander.A peacock picked a peck of pepper;Did he pick a peck of pepper?Yes, he picked a peck of pepper;Pick, pecker, peacock!SOUTHERN INDIAAn old story! an old story!Clever Brahman, an old story!What shall I say?I know none.Little chickens! little chickens!Sing me a song!What can I sing?Pyong! Pyong!The Cock did say:“I use alwayTo crow both first and last,Like a postle I am,For I preache to man,And tell hym the nyght is past.”THE APE AND THE COCKATOOSaid an ape in the ZooTo a white cockatoo:“Your beak is uncommonly strong!”Said the white cockatooTo the ape in the Zoo,“And your tail is excessively long!”Said the ape in the ZooTo the white cockatoo:“Remarks are exceedingly rude!And you must look out,And see what you’re about,Or I’ll seize and run off with your food!”Then the white cockatooReally furious grew,And shouted as loud as he could:“You black-faced Wanderoo![B]With your white whiskers, too,Do you think to insult me is good?”’Tween the ape in the ZooAnd the white cockatooThen furious battle ensued,And the cockatoo bitThe ape into a fit,And the ape snatched the cockatoo’s food.
Parson Peard,Be not afeard,Nor take it much in anger;We’ve bought your geeseAt a penny a piece,And left the money with the gander.
A peacock picked a peck of pepper;Did he pick a peck of pepper?Yes, he picked a peck of pepper;Pick, pecker, peacock!
SOUTHERN INDIA
An old story! an old story!Clever Brahman, an old story!What shall I say?I know none.Little chickens! little chickens!Sing me a song!What can I sing?Pyong! Pyong!
The Cock did say:“I use alwayTo crow both first and last,Like a postle I am,For I preache to man,And tell hym the nyght is past.”
THE APE AND THE COCKATOO
Said an ape in the ZooTo a white cockatoo:“Your beak is uncommonly strong!”Said the white cockatooTo the ape in the Zoo,“And your tail is excessively long!”
Said the ape in the ZooTo the white cockatoo:“Remarks are exceedingly rude!And you must look out,And see what you’re about,Or I’ll seize and run off with your food!”
Then the white cockatooReally furious grew,And shouted as loud as he could:“You black-faced Wanderoo![B]With your white whiskers, too,Do you think to insult me is good?”
’Tween the ape in the ZooAnd the white cockatooThen furious battle ensued,And the cockatoo bitThe ape into a fit,And the ape snatched the cockatoo’s food.
[B]An ape is a Wanderoo in Ceylon.
[B]An ape is a Wanderoo in Ceylon.
Sweet Amaryllis by a spring’sSoft and soul-melting murmuringsSlept, and thus sleeping thither flewA robin red-breast, who, at view,Not seeing her at all to stir,Brought leaves and moss to cover her.But while he perking there did pry,About the arch of either eye,The lid began to let out day,At which poor robin flew away,And seeing her not dead, but all disleaved,He chirp’d for joy to find himself deceived.THE OBSTINATE CHICKENHen“Go not down that distant walk;Yonder flies the savage hawk;His sharp eyes will quickly meet you,If you go I’m sure he’ll eat you.”Chicken“Nasty hawk is far away,I may safely go and play;If he comes my legs will bringMe beneath your sheltering wing.”So it skipped off in a trice,Scorning mother’s good advice;And when it thought at home to sup,Down came the hawk and gobbled it up.Lords and knights, I do inviteLadies and gentlemen,To come unto the burialOf my wee brown hen.My wee brown hen,They might have let her be,Every day she laid an egg,On Sunday she laid three.SOUTHERN INDIAN SONGS“Cooing, cooing, cooing dove!How many little ones have you to love?”“In my nest—two—three—four—fiveLittle ones I hatch’d alive.”“Tell me then, O dove, I pray,Where are the little ones to-day?”“On a bough both safe and strongLeft I them an hour long,I cannot see them now, and knowThey have gone to feed the crow.”“Dusky sister of the crowLet us to the wedding go,To-morrow or on Sunday morn;Though the kite doth sit forlorn,Seeing in a painful dreamYoung ones perish in the stream.All the young ones of the crowCheese are seeking to and fro.”ESSEXOne, two, three, four, five,I caught a fish alive;Six, seven, eight, nine, ten,I let it go again.“Why did you let it go?”“Because it bit my finger so.”“Which finger did it bite?”“The little finger on the right.”Dragon fly! dragon fly! fly about the brook,Sting all the bad boys who for the fish look;But let the good boys catch all they can,And then take them home to be fried in a pan,With nice bread and butter they shall sup up their fish,While all the little naughty boys shall only lick the dish.LADY-BIRDNORFOLKBishop, Bishop Barnabee,Tell me when my wedding be;If it be to-morrow day,Take your wings and fly away.Fly to the East, fly to the West,And fly to them that I love best.LADY-BIRD—IN SCOTLAND LADY LANNERSLANARKLady, Lady Lanners!Lady, Lady Lanners!Tak up your clowk about your head,An’ flee awa’ to Flanners.Flee owre firth, an’ flee owre fell,Flee owre pule, an’ rinnan well,Flee owre muir, an’ flee owre mead,Flee owre livan, flee owre dead,Flee owre corn, an’ flee owre lea,Flee owre river, flee owre sea,Flee ye east, or flee ye west,Flee till him that lo’es me best.Lady-bird! lady-bird! pretty one stay!Come sit on my finger, so happy and gay,With me shall no mischief betide thee;No harm would I do thee, no foeman is near,I only would gaze on thy beauties so dear,Those beautiful winglets beside thee.Lady-bird! lady-bird! fly away home!Thy house is a-fire, thy children will roam,List! list to their cry and bewailing!The pitiless spider is weaving their doom,Then lady-bird! lady-bird! fly away home!Hark! hark to thy children’s bewailing!Fly back again, back again, lady-bird dear!Thy neighbours will merrily welcome thee here,With them shall no perils attend thee.They’ll guard thee so safely from danger or care,They’ll gaze on thy beautiful winglets so fair,And comfort, and love, and befriend thee!THE SELFISH SNAILSIt happened that a little snailCame crawling, with his shiny tail,Upon a cabbage-stalk;But two more little snails were there,Both feasting on this dainty fare,Engaged in friendly talk.“No, no, you shall not dine with us;How dare you interrupt us thus?”The greedy snails declare;So their poor brother they discard,Who really thinks it very hardHe may not have his share.But selfish folks are sure to knowThey get no good by being soIn earnest or in play;Which those two snails confess’d, no doubt,When soon the gardener spied them out,And threw them both away.ALPHABETSQUARREL OF THE ALPHABETGreat A was alarmed at B’s bad behaviour,Because C, D, E, and F denied G a favour.H got a husband, with I, J, K, and L,M married Mary, and taught scholars how to spell.It went hard at first with N, O, P, and Q,With R, S, T, with single and double U,The X and the Y it stuck in their gizzards,Till they were made friends by the two crooked izzards.This A, B, C, so little is it thought about,Although by its aid great knowledge is brought about;’Tis the groundwork of science, of wisdom the key, sir,For what does a man know that knows not A, B, C, sir?He is a blockhead, take it from me, sir,That does not know his A, B, C, sir,A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N,O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z.Astands for Apple Pie,Bfor Balloon,Ca nice custardTo eat with a spoon.Dfor my doll,When from lessons released,Esister Ellen, andFfor a Feast.Gfor the Garden,Where oft-time we play.Hyou will findIn a field of sweet Hay.Iwas an Inkstand,Thrown over for fun.Jbrother Joseph,By whom it was done.Kis our Kitten,Who plays with her tail,Lour maid LucyWith milk in her pail.Mmy kind Mother,I love her so well.NMr NobodyNothing can tell.Ois an Ostrich,So fine and so tall.Pa fine Peacock,That sat on a wall.Qwas the Quarrel’Tween Pompey and Pug.Ris the RoseIn our small china jug.Sstands for Syllabub,Tfor my Toys.Umy kind Uncle,Who loves good girls and boys.Vis the Vulture,Whom little birds dread.Wa WatchThat hangs ticking o’erhead.Xyou may makeBy two keys when they’re crossed.Yis a YouthWhose time should not be lost.The Alphabet now I nearly have said,Zoological Gardens begin with a Z.Astands for Age, and for Adam, and All.Bstands for Bullfinch, and Billy, and Ball.Cstands for Cat, and for Cherry, and Crumb.Dstands for Dog, and for David, and Drum.Estands for Elephant, Edward, and East.Fstands for Fox, and for Fanny, and Feast.Gstands for Goat, and for George, and for Gold.Hstands for House, and for Henry, and Hold.Istands for Indian, and Isaac, and Ill.Jstands for Jay, and for Jenny, and Jill.Kstands for Kissing, and Kitty, and Kine.Lstands for Lion, and Lucy, and Line.Mstands for Morning, for Mary, and Mote.Nstands for Nightingale, Noah, and Note.Ostands for Owl, and for Ox, and for Ounce.Pstands for Parson, and Peter, and Pounce.Qstands for Quail, and Quarrel, and Quake.Rstands for Reading, for Rule, and for Rake.Sstands for Ship, and for Sam, and for Shop.Tstands for Tiger, for Thomas and Top.Ustands for Unicorn, Uncle, and Use.Vstands for Vulture, for Venice, and Views.Wstands for Waggon, for Wilful, and We.Xstands for Xiphias, the sword-fish, you see.Ystands for Youth, for You, and for Year.Zstands for Zany, that brings up the rear.GAMESLOOBY LOOHere we dance Looby Loo,Here we dance Looby Light,Here we dance Looby Loo,All on a Saturday night.All your right hands in,All your right hands out,Shake your right hands a little a little,And turn yourselves about.Here we dance, etc.All your left hands in,All your left hands out,Shake your left hands a little a little,And turn yourselves about.Here we dance, etc.All your right feet in,All your right feet out,Shake your right feet a little a little,And turn yourselves about.Here we dance, etc.All your left feet in,All your left feet out,Shake your left feet a little a little,And turn yourselves about.Here we dance, etc.All your noddles in,All your noddles out,Shake all your noddles a little a little,And turn yourselves about.Here we dance, etc.Put all yourselves in,Put all yourselves out,Shake all yourselves a little a little,And turn yourselves about.Here we dance Looby Loo,Here we dance Looby Light,Here we dance Looby Loo,All on a Saturday night.Walking up the green grass,A dusty dusty day,Fair maids, and pretty maids,As ever you did see.Suppose a man’d die,And leave his wife a widow,The bells’d ring, and we should sing,And all dance round together.Oats and beans and barley grow,Oats and beans and barley grow;Do you, or I, or any one know,How oats and beans and barley grow?First the farmer sows his seed,Then he stands and takes his ease,Stamps his feet, and claps his hands,And turns him round to view the lands.Yeo ho! Yeo ho!Waiting for a partner,Waiting for a partner,Open the ring, and send one in.So now you’re married you must obey,You must be true to all you say;You must be kind, you must be good,And help your wife to chop the wood.Yeo ho! Yeo ho!STAFFORDSHIREGreen gravel, green gravel, the grass is so green,The fairest damsel that ever was seen.O Mary, O Mary, your true love is dead!He sent you a letter to turn round your head.O mother, O mother, do you think it is true?O yes, O yes, and what shall I do?I’ll wash you in milk, and dress you in silk,And write down your name with a gold pen and ink.SINGING GAMERosy apple, lemon, and pear,Bunch of roses she shall wear,Gold and silver by her side,Choose the one to be your bride.Take her by the lily-white hand,Lead her across the water,Give her kisses, one, two, three,Mrs Rose’s daughter.APPLE PIPSOne I love, two I love, three I love, I sayFour I love with all my heart, five I cast away;Six he loves, seven she loves, eight they both love;Nine he comes, ten he tarries,Eleven he courts, and twelve he marries.SCOTTISH GAME SONGHere we go by jingo ring,By jingo ring, by jingo ring,Here we go by jingo ring,And round about Mary matins sing.Round the Maypole,Trit, trit, trot!See what a MaypoleWe have got.Fine and gay,Trip away!Happy in our new May-day.Gentlemen and ladies,I wish you happy May,We come to show the garland,For ’tis the first of May.Good-morning, lords and ladies,It is the first of May.We hope you’ll view our garland,It is so smart and gay.I love my little brother,And sister every day,But I seem to love them betterIn the merry month of May.COUNTING-OUT RHYMEOne-ery, two-ery, tick-ery, ten,Bobs of vinegar, gentlemen:A bird in the air,A fish in the sea,A bonnie wee lassie come singing to thee,One, two, three!MISCELLANEOUS RHYMESA SHROPSHIRE BALLADIt hails, it rains, in Merry-Cock land,It hails, it rains, both great and small,And all the little children in Merry-Cock land,They have need to play at ball.They toss’d the ball so high,They toss’d the ball so low,Amongst all the Jews’ cattle,And amongst the Jews below.Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,Dressed all in green,“Come my sweet Saluter,And fetch the ball again.”“I durst not come, I must not come,Unless all my little playfellows come along,For if my mother sees me at the gate,She’ll cause my blood to fall.”She show’d me an apple as green as grass,She show’d me a gay gold ring,She show’d me a cherry as red as blood,And so she entic’d me in.She took me in the parlour,She laid me down to sleep,With a Bible at my head,And a Testament at my feet.And if my playfellows quere for me,Tell them I am asleep.I had a true love over the sea,Parla me dixi dominee!He sent me love tokens one, two, three,With a rotrum potrum trumpitrorum,Parla me dixi dominee!He sent me a book that none could read,He sent me a web without a thread.He sent me a cherry without a stone,He sent me a bird without a bone.How can there be a book that none can read?How can there be a web without a thread?How can there be a cherry without a stone?How can there be a bird without a bone?When the book’s unwritten none can read;When the web’s in the fleece it has no thread.When the cherry’s in the bloom it has no stone;When the bird’s in the egg it has no bone.With a rotrum potrum trumpitrorum,Parla me dixi dominee!DREAM OF A GIRL WHO LIVED AT SEVENOAKSSeven sweet singing birds up in a tree,Seven swift sailing ships white upon the sea;Seven bright weather-cocks shining in the sun;Seven slim race-horses ready for a run;Seven golden butterflies flitting overhead;Seven red roses blowing in a garden bed;Seven white lilies, with honey bees inside them;Seven round rainbows, with clouds to divide them;Seven pretty little girls, with sugar on their lips;Seven witty little boys, whom everybody tips;Seven nice fathers, to call little maids joys;Seven nice mothers, to kiss the little boys;Seven nights running I dreamt it all plain;With bread and jam for supper I could dream it all again.There was an old woman, and she liv’d in a shoe,She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do.She crumm’d ’em some porridge without any bread;And she borrow’d a beetle, and she knock’d ’em all o’ th’ head.Then out went the old woman to bespeak ’em a coffin,And when she came back she found ’em all a-loffeing.There was an old woman drawn up in a basket,Three or four times as high as the moon,And where she was going I never did ask it,But in her hand she carried a broom.A broom! a broom! a broom! a broom!That grows on yonder hill,And blows with a yellow bloom,Just like lemon peel.Just like lemon peel, my boys,To mix with our English beer,And you shall drink it all upWhile we do say Goliere!Goliere! Goliere! Goliere! Goliere!While we do say Goliere!Dinty diddledy,My mammy’s maid,She stole oranges,I am afraid;Some in her pocket,Some in her sleeve,She stole oranges,I do believe.“Dinah, Dinah,Go to China,For oranges and tea;Dolly is sick,And wants them quick,So skip across the sea!”“Puddingandpie!”Said Jane, “O my!”“Which would you rather?”Said her father,“Both!” cried Jane,Quite bold and plain.Ding dong! ding dong!There goes the gong;Dick, come along,It’s time for dinner.Wash your face,Take your place,Where’s your grace?You little sinner!When little Claude was naughty wunstAt dinner-time, an’ said,He wont say “Thank you!” to his Ma,She maked him go to bed,An’ stay two hours an’ not git up,So when the clock struck Two,Nen Claude says, “Thank you, Mr Clock,I’m much obleeged to you!”Tit-tat-toe!My first go;Three jolly butcher boys all in a row!Stick one up,Stick one down,Stick one in the old man’s burying-ground.FOR A WILLOW PATTERN PLATEThere’s two birds flying high,Here’s a vessel sailing by;Here’s the bridge that they pass over,Three little men going to Dover!Here the stately castle stands,Where lives the ruler of these lands;Here’s the tree with the apples on,That’s the fence that ends my song!What way does the wind come? What way does he go?He rides over the water, and over the snow,Through wood and through vale, and o’er rocky height,Which goat cannot climb, takes his sounding flight;He tosses about in every bare tree,As, if you look up, you plainly may see;But how he will come, and whither he goes,There’s never a scholar in England knows.TO BE WRITTEN IN A BOOKGive your attention as you read,And frequent pauses take;Think seriously; and take good heedThat you no dog’s ears make.Don’t wet the fingers as you turnThe pages one by one;Never touch prints, observe: and learnEach idle gait to shun.TO BE WRITTEN IN A BOOKSmall is the wren,Black is the rook,Great is the sinnerThat steals this book.SOMERSETSHIRECHARM FOR TOOTHACHE,TO BE WRITTEN AND WORNPeter sat on a marble stone,When by here Jesus came aloan.“Peter what is it makes you for to quake?”“Lord Jesus, it is the toothake.”“Rise, Peter, and be heled.”Come, butter, come!Come, butter, come!Peter is at the gateWaiting the butter and loaf,Come, butter, come!Jack and Jill went up the hill,To fetch a pail of water,Jack fell down and broke his crown,And Jill came tumbling after.Up Jack got and home did trot,As fast as he could caper,Went to bed to mend his head,With vinegar and brown paper.Jill came in and she did grin,To see his paper plaster,Mother vexed, did whip her next,For causing Jack’s disaster.Little John Jig Jag,Rode on a penny nag,And went to Wigan to woo;When he came to a beckHe fell and broke his neck,Johnny, how dost thou now?Little General MonkSat upon a trunk,Eating a crust of bread;There fell a hot coal,And burnt in his clothes a hole,Now little General Monk is dead.SALISBURY CATHEDRALAs many days as in one year there be,So many windows in this church you see.As many marble pillars here appear,As there are hours through the fleeting year.As many gates as moons one here does view,Strange tale to tell, but not more strange than true.KENTGod made man, and man made money.God made the bees, and the bees made honey.God made the cooks, and the cooks made pies.God made a little boy, and he told lies.God made the world, as round as a ball,In jumps Satan, and spoils it all.God made Satan, and Satan made sin,God made a little hole to put Satan in.Essex stiles,Kentish miles,Norfolk wiles,Many men beguiles.SOMERSETMy grandmother had a three-cornered country-cut handkerchief,Cut in a three-cornered country-cut way,If my grandmother had a three-cornered country-cut handkerchief,Cut in a three-cornered country-cut way,Why shouldn’t I have a three-cornered country-cut handkerchief,Cut in a three-cornered country-cut way?LEICESTERMy father died a month ago,And left me all his riches;A feather bed, a wooden leg,And a pair of leather breeches.A coffee pot without a spout,A cup without a handle,A ’bacco box without a lid,And half a farthing candle.ESSEXHere’s good healthAnd a little wealth,And a little houseAnd freedom,And at the endA little friend,And little causeTo need ’im.SUFFOLKGet up at four, and you’ll have more.Get up at five, and things’ll thrive.Get up at six, and things’ll fix.Get up at seven, and things’ll go even.Get up at eight, and that’s too late.Get up at nine, and that’s no time.Get up at ten, and go to bed again.At ten a child,At twenty wild,At thirty tame if ever;At forty wise,At fifty rich,At sixty good, or never.THE SETTING OF THE SUNSee where the sun sinks in the west,His appointed race having run,He says to man and beast: “Now rest,Your toil and labour’s done.”So should each little girl and boy,Perform their daily task;Then would their parents dear, with joy,Grant all good things they’d ask.THE EAGLE AND THE OAKIrishWhen you were an acorn on the tree top,Then was I an eagle cock;Now that you are a withered old block,Still I am an eagle cock.FLAXThere’s a garden that I ken,Full of little gentlemen,Little caps of blue they wear,And green ribbons very fair.Nettle out, dock in,Dock remove the nettle sting.In dock, out nettle,Don’t let the blood settle.A litel grounde well tilled,A litel house well filled,A litel wife well willed,Would make him live that were halfe killed.Born of a Monday,Fair in face;Born of a Tuesday,Full of God’s grace;Born of a Wednesday,Merry and glad;Born of a Thursday,Sour and sad;Born of a Friday,Godly given;Born of a Saturday,Work for your living;Born of a Sunday,Never shall we want;So there ends the week,And there’s an end on’t.Monday for health,Tuesday for wealth,Wednesday the best day of all;Thursday for losses,Friday for crosses,Saturday no day at all.Sunrise, breakfast; sun high, dinner;Sundown, sup, makes a saint of a sinner.Tom married a wife on Monday,He got a stick on Tuesday,He beat her well on Wednesday,Sick was she on Thursday,Dead was she on Friday,Glad was Tom on Saturday,To bury his wife on Sunday.Little Goody TidyWas born on a Friday,Was christened on a Saturday,Ate roast beef on Sunday,Was very well on Monday,Was taken ill on Tuesday,Sent for the doctor on Wednesday,Died on Thursday.So there’s an end to little Goody Tidy.Bobby Shaft is gone to sea,With silver buckles at his knee,When he comes home he’ll marry me,Pretty Bobby Shaft!Bobby Shaft is fat and fair,Combing down his yellow hair;He’s my love for evermore,Pretty Bobby Shaft!A good child, a good child,As I suppose you be,Never laughed nor smiledAt the tickling of your knee.Commodore Rogers was a brave man—exceedingly brave—particular;He climbed up very high rocks—exceedingly high—perpendicular;And what made this the more inexpressible,These same rocks were quite inaccessible.When I was a little boy,I washed my mammie’s dishes,I put my finger in my eye,And pulled out golden fishes.Little King Boggen he built a fine hall,Pye crust and pastry crust, that was the wall;The windows were made of black puddings and white,And slated with pancakes you ne’er saw the like.A CHERRYGallowayRiddle me, riddle me, rot, tot, tot,A wee, wee man in a red, red coat,A staff in his hand, and a stane in his throat,Riddle me, riddle me, rot, tot, tot.PERTHA penny for the chappin’ stick,[C]Tuppencefor the theevil,[D]That’s the way the money goes,Pop goes the weasel.
Sweet Amaryllis by a spring’sSoft and soul-melting murmuringsSlept, and thus sleeping thither flewA robin red-breast, who, at view,Not seeing her at all to stir,Brought leaves and moss to cover her.But while he perking there did pry,About the arch of either eye,The lid began to let out day,At which poor robin flew away,And seeing her not dead, but all disleaved,He chirp’d for joy to find himself deceived.
THE OBSTINATE CHICKEN
Hen
“Go not down that distant walk;Yonder flies the savage hawk;His sharp eyes will quickly meet you,If you go I’m sure he’ll eat you.”
Chicken
“Nasty hawk is far away,I may safely go and play;If he comes my legs will bringMe beneath your sheltering wing.”
So it skipped off in a trice,Scorning mother’s good advice;And when it thought at home to sup,Down came the hawk and gobbled it up.
Lords and knights, I do inviteLadies and gentlemen,To come unto the burialOf my wee brown hen.
My wee brown hen,They might have let her be,Every day she laid an egg,On Sunday she laid three.
SOUTHERN INDIAN SONGS
“Cooing, cooing, cooing dove!How many little ones have you to love?”“In my nest—two—three—four—fiveLittle ones I hatch’d alive.”“Tell me then, O dove, I pray,Where are the little ones to-day?”“On a bough both safe and strongLeft I them an hour long,I cannot see them now, and knowThey have gone to feed the crow.”
“Dusky sister of the crowLet us to the wedding go,To-morrow or on Sunday morn;Though the kite doth sit forlorn,Seeing in a painful dreamYoung ones perish in the stream.All the young ones of the crowCheese are seeking to and fro.”
ESSEX
One, two, three, four, five,I caught a fish alive;Six, seven, eight, nine, ten,I let it go again.
“Why did you let it go?”“Because it bit my finger so.”“Which finger did it bite?”“The little finger on the right.”
Dragon fly! dragon fly! fly about the brook,Sting all the bad boys who for the fish look;But let the good boys catch all they can,And then take them home to be fried in a pan,With nice bread and butter they shall sup up their fish,While all the little naughty boys shall only lick the dish.
LADY-BIRD
NORFOLK
Bishop, Bishop Barnabee,Tell me when my wedding be;If it be to-morrow day,Take your wings and fly away.Fly to the East, fly to the West,And fly to them that I love best.
LADY-BIRD—IN SCOTLAND LADY LANNERS
LANARK
Lady, Lady Lanners!Lady, Lady Lanners!Tak up your clowk about your head,An’ flee awa’ to Flanners.Flee owre firth, an’ flee owre fell,Flee owre pule, an’ rinnan well,Flee owre muir, an’ flee owre mead,Flee owre livan, flee owre dead,Flee owre corn, an’ flee owre lea,Flee owre river, flee owre sea,Flee ye east, or flee ye west,Flee till him that lo’es me best.
Lady-bird! lady-bird! pretty one stay!Come sit on my finger, so happy and gay,With me shall no mischief betide thee;No harm would I do thee, no foeman is near,I only would gaze on thy beauties so dear,Those beautiful winglets beside thee.
Lady-bird! lady-bird! fly away home!Thy house is a-fire, thy children will roam,List! list to their cry and bewailing!The pitiless spider is weaving their doom,Then lady-bird! lady-bird! fly away home!Hark! hark to thy children’s bewailing!
Fly back again, back again, lady-bird dear!Thy neighbours will merrily welcome thee here,With them shall no perils attend thee.They’ll guard thee so safely from danger or care,They’ll gaze on thy beautiful winglets so fair,And comfort, and love, and befriend thee!
THE SELFISH SNAILS
It happened that a little snailCame crawling, with his shiny tail,Upon a cabbage-stalk;But two more little snails were there,Both feasting on this dainty fare,Engaged in friendly talk.
“No, no, you shall not dine with us;How dare you interrupt us thus?”The greedy snails declare;So their poor brother they discard,Who really thinks it very hardHe may not have his share.
But selfish folks are sure to knowThey get no good by being soIn earnest or in play;Which those two snails confess’d, no doubt,When soon the gardener spied them out,And threw them both away.
QUARREL OF THE ALPHABET
Great A was alarmed at B’s bad behaviour,Because C, D, E, and F denied G a favour.H got a husband, with I, J, K, and L,M married Mary, and taught scholars how to spell.
It went hard at first with N, O, P, and Q,With R, S, T, with single and double U,The X and the Y it stuck in their gizzards,Till they were made friends by the two crooked izzards.
This A, B, C, so little is it thought about,Although by its aid great knowledge is brought about;’Tis the groundwork of science, of wisdom the key, sir,For what does a man know that knows not A, B, C, sir?He is a blockhead, take it from me, sir,That does not know his A, B, C, sir,A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N,O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z.
Astands for Apple Pie,Bfor Balloon,Ca nice custardTo eat with a spoon.Dfor my doll,When from lessons released,Esister Ellen, andFfor a Feast.Gfor the Garden,Where oft-time we play.Hyou will findIn a field of sweet Hay.Iwas an Inkstand,Thrown over for fun.Jbrother Joseph,By whom it was done.Kis our Kitten,Who plays with her tail,Lour maid LucyWith milk in her pail.Mmy kind Mother,I love her so well.NMr NobodyNothing can tell.Ois an Ostrich,So fine and so tall.Pa fine Peacock,That sat on a wall.Qwas the Quarrel’Tween Pompey and Pug.Ris the RoseIn our small china jug.Sstands for Syllabub,Tfor my Toys.Umy kind Uncle,Who loves good girls and boys.Vis the Vulture,Whom little birds dread.Wa WatchThat hangs ticking o’erhead.Xyou may makeBy two keys when they’re crossed.Yis a YouthWhose time should not be lost.The Alphabet now I nearly have said,Zoological Gardens begin with a Z.
Astands for Age, and for Adam, and All.Bstands for Bullfinch, and Billy, and Ball.Cstands for Cat, and for Cherry, and Crumb.Dstands for Dog, and for David, and Drum.Estands for Elephant, Edward, and East.Fstands for Fox, and for Fanny, and Feast.Gstands for Goat, and for George, and for Gold.Hstands for House, and for Henry, and Hold.Istands for Indian, and Isaac, and Ill.Jstands for Jay, and for Jenny, and Jill.Kstands for Kissing, and Kitty, and Kine.Lstands for Lion, and Lucy, and Line.Mstands for Morning, for Mary, and Mote.Nstands for Nightingale, Noah, and Note.Ostands for Owl, and for Ox, and for Ounce.Pstands for Parson, and Peter, and Pounce.Qstands for Quail, and Quarrel, and Quake.Rstands for Reading, for Rule, and for Rake.Sstands for Ship, and for Sam, and for Shop.Tstands for Tiger, for Thomas and Top.Ustands for Unicorn, Uncle, and Use.Vstands for Vulture, for Venice, and Views.Wstands for Waggon, for Wilful, and We.Xstands for Xiphias, the sword-fish, you see.Ystands for Youth, for You, and for Year.Zstands for Zany, that brings up the rear.
LOOBY LOO
Here we dance Looby Loo,Here we dance Looby Light,Here we dance Looby Loo,All on a Saturday night.
All your right hands in,All your right hands out,Shake your right hands a little a little,And turn yourselves about.Here we dance, etc.
All your left hands in,All your left hands out,Shake your left hands a little a little,And turn yourselves about.Here we dance, etc.
All your right feet in,All your right feet out,Shake your right feet a little a little,And turn yourselves about.Here we dance, etc.
All your left feet in,All your left feet out,Shake your left feet a little a little,And turn yourselves about.Here we dance, etc.
All your noddles in,All your noddles out,Shake all your noddles a little a little,And turn yourselves about.Here we dance, etc.
Put all yourselves in,Put all yourselves out,Shake all yourselves a little a little,And turn yourselves about.Here we dance Looby Loo,Here we dance Looby Light,Here we dance Looby Loo,All on a Saturday night.
Walking up the green grass,A dusty dusty day,Fair maids, and pretty maids,As ever you did see.Suppose a man’d die,And leave his wife a widow,The bells’d ring, and we should sing,And all dance round together.
Oats and beans and barley grow,Oats and beans and barley grow;Do you, or I, or any one know,How oats and beans and barley grow?
First the farmer sows his seed,Then he stands and takes his ease,Stamps his feet, and claps his hands,And turns him round to view the lands.Yeo ho! Yeo ho!
Waiting for a partner,Waiting for a partner,Open the ring, and send one in.So now you’re married you must obey,You must be true to all you say;You must be kind, you must be good,And help your wife to chop the wood.Yeo ho! Yeo ho!
STAFFORDSHIRE
Green gravel, green gravel, the grass is so green,The fairest damsel that ever was seen.
O Mary, O Mary, your true love is dead!He sent you a letter to turn round your head.
O mother, O mother, do you think it is true?O yes, O yes, and what shall I do?
I’ll wash you in milk, and dress you in silk,And write down your name with a gold pen and ink.
SINGING GAME
Rosy apple, lemon, and pear,Bunch of roses she shall wear,Gold and silver by her side,Choose the one to be your bride.Take her by the lily-white hand,Lead her across the water,Give her kisses, one, two, three,Mrs Rose’s daughter.
APPLE PIPS
One I love, two I love, three I love, I sayFour I love with all my heart, five I cast away;Six he loves, seven she loves, eight they both love;Nine he comes, ten he tarries,Eleven he courts, and twelve he marries.
SCOTTISH GAME SONG
Here we go by jingo ring,By jingo ring, by jingo ring,Here we go by jingo ring,And round about Mary matins sing.
Round the Maypole,Trit, trit, trot!See what a MaypoleWe have got.Fine and gay,Trip away!Happy in our new May-day.
Gentlemen and ladies,I wish you happy May,We come to show the garland,For ’tis the first of May.
Good-morning, lords and ladies,It is the first of May.We hope you’ll view our garland,It is so smart and gay.I love my little brother,And sister every day,But I seem to love them betterIn the merry month of May.
COUNTING-OUT RHYME
One-ery, two-ery, tick-ery, ten,Bobs of vinegar, gentlemen:A bird in the air,A fish in the sea,A bonnie wee lassie come singing to thee,One, two, three!
A SHROPSHIRE BALLAD
It hails, it rains, in Merry-Cock land,It hails, it rains, both great and small,And all the little children in Merry-Cock land,They have need to play at ball.They toss’d the ball so high,They toss’d the ball so low,Amongst all the Jews’ cattle,And amongst the Jews below.Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,Dressed all in green,“Come my sweet Saluter,And fetch the ball again.”“I durst not come, I must not come,Unless all my little playfellows come along,For if my mother sees me at the gate,She’ll cause my blood to fall.”She show’d me an apple as green as grass,She show’d me a gay gold ring,She show’d me a cherry as red as blood,And so she entic’d me in.She took me in the parlour,She laid me down to sleep,With a Bible at my head,And a Testament at my feet.And if my playfellows quere for me,Tell them I am asleep.
I had a true love over the sea,Parla me dixi dominee!He sent me love tokens one, two, three,With a rotrum potrum trumpitrorum,Parla me dixi dominee!
He sent me a book that none could read,He sent me a web without a thread.
He sent me a cherry without a stone,He sent me a bird without a bone.
How can there be a book that none can read?How can there be a web without a thread?
How can there be a cherry without a stone?How can there be a bird without a bone?
When the book’s unwritten none can read;When the web’s in the fleece it has no thread.
When the cherry’s in the bloom it has no stone;When the bird’s in the egg it has no bone.
With a rotrum potrum trumpitrorum,Parla me dixi dominee!
DREAM OF A GIRL WHO LIVED AT SEVENOAKS
Seven sweet singing birds up in a tree,Seven swift sailing ships white upon the sea;Seven bright weather-cocks shining in the sun;Seven slim race-horses ready for a run;Seven golden butterflies flitting overhead;Seven red roses blowing in a garden bed;Seven white lilies, with honey bees inside them;Seven round rainbows, with clouds to divide them;Seven pretty little girls, with sugar on their lips;Seven witty little boys, whom everybody tips;Seven nice fathers, to call little maids joys;Seven nice mothers, to kiss the little boys;Seven nights running I dreamt it all plain;With bread and jam for supper I could dream it all again.
There was an old woman, and she liv’d in a shoe,She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do.She crumm’d ’em some porridge without any bread;And she borrow’d a beetle, and she knock’d ’em all o’ th’ head.Then out went the old woman to bespeak ’em a coffin,And when she came back she found ’em all a-loffeing.
There was an old woman drawn up in a basket,Three or four times as high as the moon,And where she was going I never did ask it,But in her hand she carried a broom.
A broom! a broom! a broom! a broom!That grows on yonder hill,And blows with a yellow bloom,Just like lemon peel.Just like lemon peel, my boys,To mix with our English beer,And you shall drink it all upWhile we do say Goliere!Goliere! Goliere! Goliere! Goliere!While we do say Goliere!
Dinty diddledy,My mammy’s maid,She stole oranges,I am afraid;Some in her pocket,Some in her sleeve,She stole oranges,I do believe.
“Dinah, Dinah,Go to China,For oranges and tea;Dolly is sick,And wants them quick,So skip across the sea!”
“Puddingandpie!”Said Jane, “O my!”“Which would you rather?”Said her father,“Both!” cried Jane,Quite bold and plain.
Ding dong! ding dong!There goes the gong;Dick, come along,It’s time for dinner.Wash your face,Take your place,Where’s your grace?You little sinner!
When little Claude was naughty wunstAt dinner-time, an’ said,He wont say “Thank you!” to his Ma,She maked him go to bed,An’ stay two hours an’ not git up,So when the clock struck Two,Nen Claude says, “Thank you, Mr Clock,I’m much obleeged to you!”
Tit-tat-toe!My first go;Three jolly butcher boys all in a row!Stick one up,Stick one down,Stick one in the old man’s burying-ground.
FOR A WILLOW PATTERN PLATE
There’s two birds flying high,Here’s a vessel sailing by;Here’s the bridge that they pass over,Three little men going to Dover!Here the stately castle stands,Where lives the ruler of these lands;Here’s the tree with the apples on,That’s the fence that ends my song!
What way does the wind come? What way does he go?He rides over the water, and over the snow,Through wood and through vale, and o’er rocky height,Which goat cannot climb, takes his sounding flight;He tosses about in every bare tree,As, if you look up, you plainly may see;But how he will come, and whither he goes,There’s never a scholar in England knows.
TO BE WRITTEN IN A BOOK
Give your attention as you read,And frequent pauses take;Think seriously; and take good heedThat you no dog’s ears make.
Don’t wet the fingers as you turnThe pages one by one;Never touch prints, observe: and learnEach idle gait to shun.
TO BE WRITTEN IN A BOOK
Small is the wren,Black is the rook,Great is the sinnerThat steals this book.
SOMERSETSHIRE
CHARM FOR TOOTHACHE,TO BE WRITTEN AND WORN
Peter sat on a marble stone,When by here Jesus came aloan.“Peter what is it makes you for to quake?”“Lord Jesus, it is the toothake.”“Rise, Peter, and be heled.”
Come, butter, come!Come, butter, come!Peter is at the gateWaiting the butter and loaf,Come, butter, come!
Jack and Jill went up the hill,To fetch a pail of water,Jack fell down and broke his crown,And Jill came tumbling after.
Up Jack got and home did trot,As fast as he could caper,Went to bed to mend his head,With vinegar and brown paper.
Jill came in and she did grin,To see his paper plaster,Mother vexed, did whip her next,For causing Jack’s disaster.
Little John Jig Jag,Rode on a penny nag,And went to Wigan to woo;When he came to a beckHe fell and broke his neck,Johnny, how dost thou now?
Little General MonkSat upon a trunk,Eating a crust of bread;There fell a hot coal,And burnt in his clothes a hole,Now little General Monk is dead.
SALISBURY CATHEDRAL
As many days as in one year there be,So many windows in this church you see.As many marble pillars here appear,As there are hours through the fleeting year.As many gates as moons one here does view,Strange tale to tell, but not more strange than true.
KENT
God made man, and man made money.God made the bees, and the bees made honey.God made the cooks, and the cooks made pies.God made a little boy, and he told lies.God made the world, as round as a ball,In jumps Satan, and spoils it all.God made Satan, and Satan made sin,God made a little hole to put Satan in.
Essex stiles,Kentish miles,Norfolk wiles,Many men beguiles.
SOMERSET
My grandmother had a three-cornered country-cut handkerchief,Cut in a three-cornered country-cut way,If my grandmother had a three-cornered country-cut handkerchief,Cut in a three-cornered country-cut way,Why shouldn’t I have a three-cornered country-cut handkerchief,Cut in a three-cornered country-cut way?
LEICESTER
My father died a month ago,And left me all his riches;A feather bed, a wooden leg,And a pair of leather breeches.A coffee pot without a spout,A cup without a handle,A ’bacco box without a lid,And half a farthing candle.
ESSEX
Here’s good healthAnd a little wealth,And a little houseAnd freedom,And at the endA little friend,And little causeTo need ’im.
SUFFOLK
Get up at four, and you’ll have more.Get up at five, and things’ll thrive.Get up at six, and things’ll fix.Get up at seven, and things’ll go even.Get up at eight, and that’s too late.Get up at nine, and that’s no time.Get up at ten, and go to bed again.
At ten a child,At twenty wild,At thirty tame if ever;At forty wise,At fifty rich,At sixty good, or never.
THE SETTING OF THE SUN
See where the sun sinks in the west,His appointed race having run,He says to man and beast: “Now rest,Your toil and labour’s done.”
So should each little girl and boy,Perform their daily task;Then would their parents dear, with joy,Grant all good things they’d ask.
THE EAGLE AND THE OAK
Irish
When you were an acorn on the tree top,Then was I an eagle cock;Now that you are a withered old block,Still I am an eagle cock.
FLAX
There’s a garden that I ken,Full of little gentlemen,Little caps of blue they wear,And green ribbons very fair.
Nettle out, dock in,Dock remove the nettle sting.In dock, out nettle,Don’t let the blood settle.
A litel grounde well tilled,A litel house well filled,A litel wife well willed,Would make him live that were halfe killed.
Born of a Monday,Fair in face;Born of a Tuesday,Full of God’s grace;Born of a Wednesday,Merry and glad;Born of a Thursday,Sour and sad;Born of a Friday,Godly given;Born of a Saturday,Work for your living;Born of a Sunday,Never shall we want;So there ends the week,And there’s an end on’t.
Monday for health,Tuesday for wealth,Wednesday the best day of all;Thursday for losses,Friday for crosses,Saturday no day at all.
Sunrise, breakfast; sun high, dinner;Sundown, sup, makes a saint of a sinner.
Tom married a wife on Monday,He got a stick on Tuesday,He beat her well on Wednesday,Sick was she on Thursday,Dead was she on Friday,Glad was Tom on Saturday,To bury his wife on Sunday.
Little Goody TidyWas born on a Friday,Was christened on a Saturday,Ate roast beef on Sunday,Was very well on Monday,Was taken ill on Tuesday,Sent for the doctor on Wednesday,Died on Thursday.So there’s an end to little Goody Tidy.
Bobby Shaft is gone to sea,With silver buckles at his knee,When he comes home he’ll marry me,Pretty Bobby Shaft!
Bobby Shaft is fat and fair,Combing down his yellow hair;He’s my love for evermore,Pretty Bobby Shaft!
A good child, a good child,As I suppose you be,Never laughed nor smiledAt the tickling of your knee.
Commodore Rogers was a brave man—exceedingly brave—particular;He climbed up very high rocks—exceedingly high—perpendicular;And what made this the more inexpressible,These same rocks were quite inaccessible.
When I was a little boy,I washed my mammie’s dishes,I put my finger in my eye,And pulled out golden fishes.
Little King Boggen he built a fine hall,Pye crust and pastry crust, that was the wall;The windows were made of black puddings and white,And slated with pancakes you ne’er saw the like.
A CHERRY
Galloway
Riddle me, riddle me, rot, tot, tot,A wee, wee man in a red, red coat,A staff in his hand, and a stane in his throat,Riddle me, riddle me, rot, tot, tot.
PERTH
A penny for the chappin’ stick,[C]Tuppencefor the theevil,[D]That’s the way the money goes,Pop goes the weasel.
[C]Used for pounding potatoes.
[C]Used for pounding potatoes.
[D]For stirring porridge.
[D]For stirring porridge.
Cocky-bendy’s lying sick,Guess ye what’ll mend him?Twenty kisses in a clout,Lassie will ye send ’em?Cherries a ha’penny a stick!Come and pick! Come and pick!Cherries! big as plums!Who comes? Who comes?Nanty, Panty, Jack-a-Dandy,Stole a piece of sugar-candy,From the grocer’s shoppy-shop,And away did hoppy-hop!Lucy Locket lost her pocket,Kitty Fisher found it,Never a farthing was therein,But little fishes drowned.Riggity jig, riggity jig,Who’ll go to market to ride in a gig?A fair little maid, and a nice little man,Shall ride off to market as fast as they can.Polly, put the kettle on,And let’s have tea!Polly put the kettle on,And we’ll all have tea.Mr Mason bought a basin,Mr Rice asked the price,Mr Hicks fell in his tricks,And bounced the basin on the bricks.GRAVESENDHab can nab,The two-pound crab,The twopenny ha’penny lobster,Trot over to France,To see the cat dance,And could not come back to his master.DORSETI’ve come a-shrovin’Vor a little pankaikA bit of bread o’ your baikin’,Or a little truckle cheese o’ your maikin’,If you’ll gie me a little I’ll ax no more,If you don’t gie me nothin’ I’ll rottle your door.As I was going along, long, long,Singing a comical song, song, song,The way that I went was so long, long, long,And the song that I sang was as long, long, long,And so I went singing along.What’s in the cupboard?Says Mr Hubbard.A knuckle of veal,Says Mr Beal.Is that all?Says Mr Ball.And enough too,Says Mr Glue;And away they all flew.Won’t be my father’s Jack,Won’t be my mother’s Gill;I will be the fiddler’s wife,And have music when I will.T’other little tune,T’other little tune;Pr’ythee, love, play meT’other little tune.Daddy Neptune one day to Freedom did say:“If ever I lived upon dry land,The spot I should hit on would be little Britain,”Says Freedom: “Why, that’s my own island!Oh, it’s a snug little island,A right little, tight little island,Search all the globe round, there’s none can be foundSo happy as this little island!”Did you ever see the Devil,With his little spade and shovel,Digging ’taties by the dozenWith his tail cocked up?The man in the moon as hard as your hat,He stole some bushes out of a gap,If he’d went by, and let ’em alie,He’d never been man in the moon so high.One to make ready,Two to prepare,Three to be off,And four to be there.Rum-ti-tum-tum,The soldiers are come,With a great piece of beef,And a bottle of rum.If wishes were horses,Beggars would ride,And all the worldBe drowned in pride.First take an old woman and toast her,And then rub her over with cheese,Then lay her out on a frosty night,And ten to one but she’ll freeze;Next, bring her in in the morning,And rub her all over with straw,Then lay her down by a good coal fire,And ten to one but she’ll thaw.“Fire! fire!” says the Crier,“Where? where?” says Lord Mayor.“In the town,” says Billy Brown.“Has it done much damage?” says Billy Cabbage.“Only burnt a few fellows,” says Billy Bellows,“Is that all?” says Billy Ball.“Yes, and plenty, too,” says Billy Blue.To market ride the gentlemen,So do we, so do we;Then comes the country clown,Hobbledy gee! hobbledy gee!First go to the ladies, nim, nim, nim!Next comes the gentlemen, trim, trim, trim!Then come the country clowns, gallop-a-trot!LEICESTERSHIRE RIMEIf all the waters was wan sea,And all the trees was wan tree,And this here tree should fall into that there sea,Moy, sirs! what a splish-splash there’d be!He that will fish for a Lancashire lad,At any time or tide,Must bait his hook with a good egg py,Or an apple with a red side.ESSEXGaffer Grey one summer day,Was digging in the garden,Beneath a stone he found a bone,And in the bone a farden.ESSEXPink and white’s the lad’s delight,Blue and white they follow,Green and white’s forsaken quite,The devil take the yellow!Julius Cæsar made a law,Augustus Cæsar signed it,That every one that made a sneezeShould run away and find it.There was a man and his name was Cob;He had a wife and her name was Mob;He had a dog and his name was Bob;She had a cat and her name was Chitterbob;“Bob,” says Cob,“Chitterbob,” says Mob,Cob’s dog was Bob,Mob’s cat was Chitterbob,Cob, Mob, Bob, and Chitterbob.DRIVING MAXIMSUp the hill urge him not;Down the hill drive him not;Cross the flat spare him not;To the hostler trust him not.IRISH SONGMy LandShe is a rich and rare land!Oh! she’s a fresh and fair land!She is a dear and rare land,This native land of mine.No men than her’s are braver,Her women’s hearts ne’er waver;I’d freely die to save her,And think my lot divine.She’s not a dull or cold land,No! she’s a warm and bold land,Oh! she’s a true and old land,This native land of mine.Oh! she’s a fresh and fair land,Oh! she’s a true and rare land,Yes! she’s a rare and fair land,This native land of mine.
Cocky-bendy’s lying sick,Guess ye what’ll mend him?Twenty kisses in a clout,Lassie will ye send ’em?
Cherries a ha’penny a stick!Come and pick! Come and pick!Cherries! big as plums!Who comes? Who comes?
Nanty, Panty, Jack-a-Dandy,Stole a piece of sugar-candy,From the grocer’s shoppy-shop,And away did hoppy-hop!
Lucy Locket lost her pocket,Kitty Fisher found it,Never a farthing was therein,But little fishes drowned.
Riggity jig, riggity jig,Who’ll go to market to ride in a gig?A fair little maid, and a nice little man,Shall ride off to market as fast as they can.
Polly, put the kettle on,And let’s have tea!Polly put the kettle on,And we’ll all have tea.
Mr Mason bought a basin,Mr Rice asked the price,Mr Hicks fell in his tricks,And bounced the basin on the bricks.
GRAVESEND
Hab can nab,The two-pound crab,The twopenny ha’penny lobster,Trot over to France,To see the cat dance,And could not come back to his master.
DORSET
I’ve come a-shrovin’Vor a little pankaikA bit of bread o’ your baikin’,Or a little truckle cheese o’ your maikin’,If you’ll gie me a little I’ll ax no more,If you don’t gie me nothin’ I’ll rottle your door.
As I was going along, long, long,Singing a comical song, song, song,The way that I went was so long, long, long,And the song that I sang was as long, long, long,And so I went singing along.
What’s in the cupboard?Says Mr Hubbard.A knuckle of veal,Says Mr Beal.Is that all?Says Mr Ball.And enough too,Says Mr Glue;And away they all flew.
Won’t be my father’s Jack,Won’t be my mother’s Gill;I will be the fiddler’s wife,And have music when I will.T’other little tune,T’other little tune;Pr’ythee, love, play meT’other little tune.
Daddy Neptune one day to Freedom did say:“If ever I lived upon dry land,The spot I should hit on would be little Britain,”Says Freedom: “Why, that’s my own island!Oh, it’s a snug little island,A right little, tight little island,Search all the globe round, there’s none can be foundSo happy as this little island!”
Did you ever see the Devil,With his little spade and shovel,Digging ’taties by the dozenWith his tail cocked up?
The man in the moon as hard as your hat,He stole some bushes out of a gap,If he’d went by, and let ’em alie,He’d never been man in the moon so high.
One to make ready,Two to prepare,Three to be off,And four to be there.
Rum-ti-tum-tum,The soldiers are come,With a great piece of beef,And a bottle of rum.
If wishes were horses,Beggars would ride,And all the worldBe drowned in pride.
First take an old woman and toast her,And then rub her over with cheese,Then lay her out on a frosty night,And ten to one but she’ll freeze;Next, bring her in in the morning,And rub her all over with straw,Then lay her down by a good coal fire,And ten to one but she’ll thaw.
“Fire! fire!” says the Crier,“Where? where?” says Lord Mayor.“In the town,” says Billy Brown.“Has it done much damage?” says Billy Cabbage.“Only burnt a few fellows,” says Billy Bellows,“Is that all?” says Billy Ball.“Yes, and plenty, too,” says Billy Blue.
To market ride the gentlemen,So do we, so do we;Then comes the country clown,Hobbledy gee! hobbledy gee!First go to the ladies, nim, nim, nim!Next comes the gentlemen, trim, trim, trim!Then come the country clowns, gallop-a-trot!
LEICESTERSHIRE RIME
If all the waters was wan sea,And all the trees was wan tree,And this here tree should fall into that there sea,Moy, sirs! what a splish-splash there’d be!
He that will fish for a Lancashire lad,At any time or tide,Must bait his hook with a good egg py,Or an apple with a red side.
ESSEX
Gaffer Grey one summer day,Was digging in the garden,Beneath a stone he found a bone,And in the bone a farden.
ESSEX
Pink and white’s the lad’s delight,Blue and white they follow,Green and white’s forsaken quite,The devil take the yellow!
Julius Cæsar made a law,Augustus Cæsar signed it,That every one that made a sneezeShould run away and find it.
There was a man and his name was Cob;He had a wife and her name was Mob;He had a dog and his name was Bob;She had a cat and her name was Chitterbob;“Bob,” says Cob,“Chitterbob,” says Mob,Cob’s dog was Bob,Mob’s cat was Chitterbob,Cob, Mob, Bob, and Chitterbob.
DRIVING MAXIMS
Up the hill urge him not;Down the hill drive him not;Cross the flat spare him not;To the hostler trust him not.
IRISH SONG
My Land
She is a rich and rare land!Oh! she’s a fresh and fair land!She is a dear and rare land,This native land of mine.
No men than her’s are braver,Her women’s hearts ne’er waver;I’d freely die to save her,And think my lot divine.
She’s not a dull or cold land,No! she’s a warm and bold land,Oh! she’s a true and old land,This native land of mine.
Oh! she’s a fresh and fair land,Oh! she’s a true and rare land,Yes! she’s a rare and fair land,This native land of mine.