Away, birds, away
Away, birds, away!
Take a little and leave a little,
And do not come again;
For if you do,
I will shoot you through,
And there will be an end of you.
As I was going to St. Ives
As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives,
Each wife had seven sacks, each sack had seven cats,
Each cat had seven kits: kits, cats, sacks and wives,
How many were going to St. Ives?
As I went over Lincoln Bridge
As I went over Lincoln Bridge,
I met Mister Rusticap;
Pins and needles on his back,
A-going to Thorney Fair.
As I was going along, along
As I was going along, along,
A-singing a comical song, song, song,
The lane that I went was so long, long, long,
And the song that I sang was so long, long, long,
And so I went singing along.
Around the green gravel the grass grows green
Around the green gravel the grass grows green,
And all the pretty maids are plain to be seen;
Wash them with milk, and clothe them with silk,
And write their names with a pen and ink.
An equal
Read my riddle, I pray.
What God never sees,
What the king seldom sees,
What we see every day.
An apple a day keeps the doctor away
An apple a day keeps the doctor away,
Apple in the morning - Doctor’s warning,
Roast apple at night - starves the doctor outright,
Eat an apple going to bed - knock the doctor on the head,
Three each day, seven days a week - ruddy apple, ruddy cheek.
The Alphabet
A, B, C, and D,
Pray, playmates, agree.
E, F, and G,
Well, so it shall be.
J, K, and L,
In peace we will dwell.
M, N, and 0,
To play let us go.
P, Q, R, and S,
Love may we possess.
W, X, and Y,
Will not quarrel or die.
Z, and ampersand,
Go to school at command.
A wise old owl lived in an oak
A wise old owl lived in an oak;
The more he saw the less he spoke.
The less he spoke the more he heard.
Why can’t we all be like that wise old bird?
A week of birthdays
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,
But the child that’s born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
A wasted journey
Hie to the market
Jenny came trot,
Spilt her buttermilk
Every drop ;every drop
And every dram,
Jenny came home
With an empty can.
A was a archer lyric
A was a archer and shot an arrow
B was a big baker eating bread and buns
C was a captain with curly hair
D was a dreamer who rode a donkey
E was an esquire and his elegant elephant
F was a farmer having fun following his plough
G was a goat and a goose was her friend
H was a hunter and he hunted a hare
I was an idler and he would do nothing
J was a jovial judge who liked jumping a lot
K was a king who made me a knight
L was a lion leaping through the leaves
M was a merchant going to the market
N was a nanny nursing a little child
O was an onion growing under an oak
P was a pig who was smoking a pipe
Q was a quarrel with two boys of the town
R was a rat who ate poor Richard’s hat
S was a sheep who was sweet but silly
T was a thoughtful tinker mending a pot
U was my uncle, who had a unicorn
V is a veteran who tells of his valour
W is a watchman who is watching his watch
X was an extravagant but exact xylophone
Y was a yawning youth who did not like yachting
Z was a zigzagging zany, a silly fool
A was an apple pie
A was an apple pie,
B bit it,
C cut it,
D dealt it,
E eat it,
F fought for it,
G got it,
H had it,
I inspected it,
J jumped for it,
K kept it,
L longed for it,
M mourned for it,
N nodded at it,
O opened it,
P peeped in it,
Q quartered it,
R ran for it,
S stole it,
T took it,
U upset it,
V viewed it,
W wanted it,
X, Y, Z and ampersand,
All wished for a piece in hand.
A tisket, a tasket
A tisket, a tasket,
A green and yellow basket,
I wrote a letter to my love,
And on the way I dropped it.
I dropped it, I dropped it,
And on the way I dropped it.
A little boy picked it up
And put it in his pocket.
A though
It is very nice to think
The world is full of meat and drink,
With little children saying grace
In every Christian kind of place.
A swarm of bees in May
A swarm of bees in May,
Is worth a load of hay.
A swarm of bees in June,
Is worth a silver spoon.
A swarm of bees in July,
Isn’t worth a fly.
A sure test
If you are to be a gentleman,
As I suppose you’ll be,
You’ll neither laugh nor smile,
For a tickling of the knee.
A strange thing
I know a little girl called Ruth,
With laughing eyes blue as the sky.
Alas S She never tells the truth,
And yet she never told a lie.
But if you ask what is the cause
Of this strange thing. I quickly say–
She cannot talk at all because
She’s only one year old to-day.
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