Ye Baker
Ye Baker
Ye school-boy on his way to schoolYe bake-shop doth espy,Where men of gingerbread in stateWith eyes of currants lie.Ye good-wife takes her Sunday roastWhere his great ovens yawn,And fragrant odors fill ye airAt noon, and night, and morn.All this was many years ago,Before Ye Canner came,With Fifty-nine VarietiesTo advertise his name.
Ye school-boy on his way to schoolYe bake-shop doth espy,Where men of gingerbread in stateWith eyes of currants lie.Ye good-wife takes her Sunday roastWhere his great ovens yawn,And fragrant odors fill ye airAt noon, and night, and morn.All this was many years ago,Before Ye Canner came,With Fifty-nine VarietiesTo advertise his name.
Ye school-boy on his way to school
Ye bake-shop doth espy,
Where men of gingerbread in state
With eyes of currants lie.
Ye good-wife takes her Sunday roast
Where his great ovens yawn,
And fragrant odors fill ye air
At noon, and night, and morn.
All this was many years ago,
Before Ye Canner came,
With Fifty-nine Varieties
To advertise his name.
gingerbread men