OLD MOTHER GOOSE
Old Mother Goose,
When she wanted to wander,
Would ride through the air
On a very fine gander.
Mother Goose had a house,
‘Twas built in a wood,
Where an owl at the door
For a sentinel stood.
When she wanted to wander,
Would ride through the air
On a very fine gander.
Mother Goose had a house,
‘Twas built in a wood,
Where an owl at the door
For a sentinel stood.
BYE, BABY BUNTING
Bye, baby bunting,
Daddy's gone a-hunting,
Gone to get a rabbit skin
To wrap the baby bunting in.
Daddy's gone a-hunting,
Gone to get a rabbit skin
To wrap the baby bunting in.
PAT-A-CAKE
Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man,
Bake me a cake as fast as you can;
Pat it and prick it, and mark it with B,
Put it in the oven for baby and me.
Bake me a cake as fast as you can;
Pat it and prick it, and mark it with B,
Put it in the oven for baby and me.
HUSH, BABY, MY DOLL
Hush, baby, my doll, I pray you don't cry,
And I'll give you some bread and some milk by and by;
Or, perhaps, you like custard, or, maybe, a tart-
Then to either you're welcome, with all my whole heart.
And I'll give you some bread and some milk by and by;
Or, perhaps, you like custard, or, maybe, a tart-
Then to either you're welcome, with all my whole heart.
ROCK-A-BYE BABY
Rock-a-bye, baby,
Thy cradle is green, Father's a nobleman,
Mother's a queen; And Betty's a lady,
And wears a gold ring; And Johnny's a drummer,
And drums for the king.
Thy cradle is green, Father's a nobleman,
Mother's a queen; And Betty's a lady,
And wears a gold ring; And Johnny's a drummer,
And drums for the king.
HUSH-A-BYE BABY
Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,
Down will come baby, cradle, and all.
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,
Down will come baby, cradle, and all.
LULLABY
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Flowers are closed and lambs are sleeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Stars are up, the moon is peeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
While the birds are silence keeping,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Sleep, my baby, fall a-sleeping,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Flowers are closed and lambs are sleeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Stars are up, the moon is peeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
While the birds are silence keeping,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Sleep, my baby, fall a-sleeping,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
THE SONG OF THE FROG
So hushaby, baby, if you'll go to sleep,
I'll give you a pretty red flower to keep.
But if you keep crying, a big ugly frog
Will croak by your side—kerchog! kerchog!
I'll give you a pretty red flower to keep.
But if you keep crying, a big ugly frog
Will croak by your side—kerchog! kerchog!
THIS LITTLE PIG WENT TO MARKET
This little pig went to market,
This little pig stayed at home,
This little pig had roast beef,
This little pig had none,
And this little pig cried, "Wee, wee, wee!"
All the way home.
This little pig stayed at home,
This little pig had roast beef,
This little pig had none,
And this little pig cried, "Wee, wee, wee!"
All the way home.
THIS IS THE WAY THE LADIES RIDE
This is the way the ladies ride,
Nimble, nimble, nimble, nimble!
This is the way the ladies ride,
A-nimble, nimble, nimble!
Nimble, nimble, nimble, nimble!
This is the way the ladies ride,
A-nimble, nimble, nimble!
THIS IS THE WAY THE GENTLEMEN RIDE
Gallop-a-trot, gallop-a-trot!
This is the way the gentlemen ride,
Gallop-a-gallop-a-trot!
This is the way the farmers ride,
Hobbledy-hoy, hobbledy-hoy!
This is the way the farmers ride,
Hobbledy-hobbledy-hoy!
This is the way the gentlemen ride,
Gallop-a-gallop-a-trot!
This is the way the farmers ride,
Hobbledy-hoy, hobbledy-hoy!
This is the way the farmers ride,
Hobbledy-hobbledy-hoy!
RIDE A COCKHORSE
Ride a cockhorse to Banbury Cross,
To see a fine lady upon a white horse;
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
And she shall have music wherever she goes.
To see a fine lady upon a white horse;
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
And she shall have music wherever she goes.
TO MARKET, TO MARKET
To market, to market,
To buy a fat pig,
Home again, home again,
Jiggety-jig.
To market, to market,
To buy a fat hog,
Home again, home again,
Jiggety-jog.
To market, to market,
To buy a plum bun,
Home again, home again,
Market is done.
To buy a fat pig,
Home again, home again,
Jiggety-jig.
To market, to market,
To buy a fat hog,
Home again, home again,
Jiggety-jog.
To market, to market,
To buy a plum bun,
Home again, home again,
Market is done.
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,
Couldn't put Humpty together again.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses,
And all the King's men,
Couldn't put Humpty together again.
LITTLE MISS MUFFET
Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider,
Who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider,
Who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.
THERE WAS AN OLD WOMAN
There was an old woman
Lived under a hill,
And if she's not gone
She lives there still.
Lived under a hill,
And if she's not gone
She lives there still.
I HAD A LITTLE NUT TREE
I had a little nut tree,
Nothing would it bear
But a silver nutmeg
And a golden pear;
Nothing would it bear
But a silver nutmeg
And a golden pear;
THE KING OF SPAIN'S DAUGHTER
Came to visit me,
And all for the sake
Of my little nut tree.
And all for the sake
Of my little nut tree.
ONE MISTY, MOISTY MORNING
One misty, moisty, morning,
When cloudy was the weather,
I chanced to meet an old man
Clothed all in leather;
Clothed all in leather,
With a strap beneath his chin.
How do you do, and how do you do,
And how do you do again?
When cloudy was the weather,
I chanced to meet an old man
Clothed all in leather;
Clothed all in leather,
With a strap beneath his chin.
How do you do, and how do you do,
And how do you do again?
SING A SONG OF SIXPENCE
Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye;
Four and twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened,
The birds began to sing;
Was not that a dainty dish
To set before the king?
The king was in his counting-house,
Counting out his money;
The queen was in the parlor,
Eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden,
Hanging out the clothes;
There came a little blackbird
And snapped off her nose.
But there came a Jenny Wren
And popped it on again.
A pocket full of rye;
Four and twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened,
The birds began to sing;
Was not that a dainty dish
To set before the king?
The king was in his counting-house,
Counting out his money;
The queen was in the parlor,
Eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden,
Hanging out the clothes;
There came a little blackbird
And snapped off her nose.
But there came a Jenny Wren
And popped it on again.
JEREMIAH OBEDIAH
Jeremiah Obediah puffs, puffs, puffs;
When he gets his messages, he snuffs, snuffs, snuffs;
When he goes to school by day, he roars, roars, roars;
And when he goes to bed at night, he snores, snores, snores.
When he gets his messages, he snuffs, snuffs, snuffs;
When he goes to school by day, he roars, roars, roars;
And when he goes to bed at night, he snores, snores, snores.
IT'S RAINING, IT'S POURING
It's raining, it's pouring,
The old man's a-snoring.
He went to bed
And bumped his head
And couldn't get up in the morning.
The old man's a-snoring.
He went to bed
And bumped his head
And couldn't get up in the morning.
WEE WILLIE WINKIE
Wee Willie Winkie
Runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs
In his nightgown,
Rapping at the window,
Crying through the lock,
“Are the children in their beds,
For now it's eight o'clock?"
Runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs
In his nightgown,
Rapping at the window,
Crying through the lock,
“Are the children in their beds,
For now it's eight o'clock?"
DIDDLE, DIDDLE, DUMPLING
Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John,
Went to bed with his trousers on;
One shoe off, and one shoe on,
Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John.
Went to bed with his trousers on;
One shoe off, and one shoe on,
Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John.
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