There Was a Little Man
There was a little man, and he had a little gun,
And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead;
He went to the brook, and saw a little duck,
And shot it through the head, head, head.
He carried it home to his old wife Joan,
And bade her a fire to make, make, make;
To roast the little duck he had shot in the brook,
And he’d go and fetch the drake, drake, drake.
Little Bo-Peep
Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep,
And can’t tell where to find them;
Leave them alone, and they’ll come home,
And bring their tails behind them.
Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep,
And dreamed she heard them bleating;
But when she awoke, she found it a joke,
For they were still a-fleeting.
Then up she took her little crook,
Determined for to find them;
She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,
For they’d left all their tails behind ‘em.
Girls and Boys
Girls and boys, come out and play,
The moon doth shine as bright as day;
Leave your supper, and leave your sleep,
And come with your playfellows into the street.
Come with a whoop, come with a call,
Come with a good will or not at all.
Up the ladder and down the wall,
A halfpenny roll will serve us all.
You find milk, and I’ll find flour,
And we’ll make a pudding in half an hour.
The Man in the Moon
The man in the moon
Came tumbling down,
And asked his way to Norwich;
He went by the south,
And burnt his mouth,
With supping cold pease-porridge.
Oranges and Lemons
Gay go up and gay go down,
To ring the bells of London town.
Bull’s-eyes and targets,
Say the bells of St. Marg’ret’s.
Brickbats and tiles,
Say the bells of St. Giles’.
Halfpence and farthings,
Say the bells of St. Martin’s.
Oranges and lemons,
Say the bells of St. Clement’s.
Pancakes and fritters,
Say the bells of St. Peter’s.
Two sticks and an apple,
Say the bells of Whitechapel.
Old Father Baldpate,
Say the slow bells at Aldgate.
Poker and tongs,
Say the bells of St. John’s.
Kettles and pans,
Say the bells of St. Ann’s.
You owe me ten shillings!
Say the bells of St. Helen’s.
When will you pay me?
Say the bells at Old Bailey.
When I grow rich,
Say the bells of Shoreditch.
Pray, when will that be?
Say the bells of Stepney.
I am sure I don’t know,
Says the great bell of Bow. Here comes a candle to light you to bed,
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head.
Little Tom Tucker
Little Tom Tucker sings for his supper;
What shall he eat? White bread and butter.
How shall he cut it without e’er a knife?
How will he be married without e’er a wife?
Little Miss Muffet
Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating of curds and whey;
There came a great spider,
And sat down beside her,
And frightened
Miss Muffet away.
My Lady Wind, My Lady Wind
My Lady Wind, my Lady Wind,
Went round about the house to find
A chink to get her foot in.
She tried the key-hole in the door,
She tried the crevice in the floor,
And drove the chimney soot in.
And then one night, when it was dark,
She blew up such a tiny spark
That all the house was bothered;
From it she raised up such a flame
As flamed away to Belting Lane,
And White Cross folks were smothered.
And thus when once my little dears,
A whisper reaches itching ears,
The same will come, you’ll find;
Take my advice, restrain the tongue,
Remember what old Nurse has sung
Of busy Lady Wind.
As I was Going Up Pippen Hill
As I was going up Pippen Hill, —
Pippen Hill was dirty, —
There I met a pretty Miss,
And she dropped me a curtesy.
Little Miss, pretty Miss,
Blessings light upon you!
If I had a half-a-crown a day,
I’d spend it all upon you.
A Frog He Would a-Wooing Go
A Frog he would a-wooing go,
Sing heigho, says Rowley,
Whether his mother would let him or no,
With a rowley, powley, gammon, and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley.
So off he marched with his opera-hat,
Heigho, says Rowley;
And on the way he met with a rat,
With a rowley, powley, gammon, and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley.
And when they came to Mouse’s Hall
Heigho, says Rowley,
They gave a loud knock and they gave a loud call,
With a rowley, powley, gammon, and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley.
“Pray, Mrs. Mouse, are you within?”
Heigho, says Rowley;
“Yes, kind sir, I am sitting to spin,”
With a rowley, powley, gammon, and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley.
“Pray, Mrs. Mouse, will you give us some beer?”
Heigho, says Rowley;
“For Froggy and I are fond of good cheer,”
With a rowley, powley, gammon, and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley.
Now while they all were a-merrymaking,
Heigho, says Rowley,
The cat and her kittens came tumbling in,
With a rowley, powley, gammon, and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley.
The cat she seized the rat by the crown,
Heigho, says Rowley;
The kittens they pulled the little mouse down,
With a rowley, powley, gammon, and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley.
This put poor Frog in a terrible fright,
Heigho, says Rowley;
So he took up his hat and wished them good-night,
With a rowley, powley, gammon, and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley.
But as Froggy was crossing over a brook,
Heigho, says Rowley,
A lily-white duck came and gobbled him up.
With a rowley, powley, gammon, and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley.
So there was an end of one, two, and three,
Heigho, says Rowley;
The rat, the mouse, and the little Frog-ee!
With a rowley, powley, gammon, and spinach,
Heigho, says Anthony Rowley.
Humpty Dumpty
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall;
All the King’s horses and
all the King’s men
Cannot put Humpty
together again.
Hot-Cross Buns
Hot-cross buns!
Hot-cross buns!
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot-cross buns!
Hot-cross buns!
Hot-cross buns!
If ye have no daughters,
Give them to your sons.
Monday’s Child
Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace,
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go,
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child works hard for its living;
And a child that is born on Christmas Day
Is fair, and wise, and good, and gay.
A Dillar, a Dollar
A dillar, a dollar,
A ten-o’clock scholar,
What makes you come so soon?
You used to come at ten o’clock,
And now you come at noon.
Tom, Tom, the Piper’s Son
Tom, Tom, the piper’s son,
He learned to play when he was young;
But the only tune that he could play
Was “Over the hills and far away.”
Over the hills, and a great way off,
And the wind will blow my top-knot off.
