Five currant buns

Five currant buns in a bakerā??s shop.
Big and round with a cherry on the top,
Along came a boy with a penny one day,
Bought a currant bun and took it away.

Four currant buns in a bakerā??s shop.
Big and round with a cherry on the top,
Along came a boy with a penny one day,
Bought a currant bun and took it away.

Three currant buns in a bakerā??s shop.
Big and round with a cherry on the top,
Along came a boy with a penny one day,
Bought a currant bun and took it away.

Two currant buns in a bakerā??s shop.
Big and round with a cherry on the top,
Along came a boy with a penny one day,
Bought a currant bun and took it away.

One currant bun in a bakerā??s shop.
Big and round with a cherry on the top,
Along came a boy with a penny one day,
Bought the currant bun and took it away.

Fingers and toes

Every lady in this land
Has twenty nails, upon each hand
Five, and twenty on hands and feet:
All this is true, without deceit.

Fiddle-de dee

FIDDLE-de-dee, Fiddle-de dee,
The Fly has married the humble bee
Says the fly, says he,
Will you marry me ,
And live with me, sweet humble bee?
Says the bee, says she,
Iā??ll under your wing
And youā??ll never know that I carry a sting
REPEAT FIDDLE DE DEE THE FLY
HAS MARRIED THE HUMBLE BEE

So, when the parson
Had joined the pair,
They both went out
To take the air.
REPEAT FIDDLE DE DEE THE FLY
HAS MARRIED THE HUMBLE BEE

And the flies did buzz,
And the bells did ring;
Did ever you hear
So merry a thing?
REPEAT FIDDLE DE DEE THE FLY
HAS MARRIED THE HUMBLE BEE

And then to think
That of all the flies,
The humble bee
Should carry the prize!
REPEAT FIDDLE DE DEE THE FLY
HAS MARRIED THE HUMBLE BEE.

Fee, Fie, Foh, Fum!

Fee, Fie, Foh, Fum!
I smell the blood of an Englishman:
Be he alive or be he dead,
Iā??ll grind his bones to make my bread.

Father William

“You are old, Father William,” the young man said,
“And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head–
Do you think, at your age, it is right?”

“In my youth,” Father William replied to his son,
“I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I’m perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again.”

“You are old,” said the youth, “as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door–
Pray, what is the reason of that?”

“In my youth,” said the sage, as he shook his gray locks,
“I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment - one shilling the box -
Allow me to sell you a couple?”

“You are old,” said the youth, “and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak-
Pray, how did you manage to do it?”

“In my youth,” said his father, “I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw
Has lasted the rest of my life.”

“You are old,” said the youth, “one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose–
What made you so awfully clever?”

“I have answered three questions, and that is enough,”
Said his father; “don’t give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I’ll kick you down-stairs!”

Father father

Father! Father! Where are you going?
O do not walk so fast.
Speak, father, speak to your little boy,
Or else I shall be lost.

The night was dark, no father was there;
The child was wet with dew;
The mire was deep, & the child did weep,
And away the vapour flew.

Farewell to the Farm

The coach is at the door at last;
The eager children, mounting fast
And kissing hands, in chorus sing:
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

To house and garden, field and lawn,
The meadow-gates we swang upon,
To pump and stable, tree and swing,
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

And fare you well for evermore,
O ladder at the hayloft door,
O hayloft where the cobwebs cling,
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

Crack goes the whip, and off we go;
The trees and houses smaller grow;
Last, round the woody turn we sing:
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

Falling snow

See the pretty snowfakes
Falling from the sky;
On the wall and housetops
Soft and thick they lie.

On the window ledges,
On the branches bare;
Now how fast they gather,
Filling all the air.

Look into the garden,
Where the grass was green;
Covered by the snowflakes,
Not a blade is seen.

Now the bare black bushes
All look soft and white,
Every twig is laden,
What a pretty sight!

Fairy Bread

Come up here, O dusty feet!
Here is fairy bread to eat.
Here in my retiring room,
Children, you may dine
On the golden smell of broom
And the shade of pine;
And when you have eaten well,
Fairy stories hear and tell.

Fair maiden

Fair maiden white and red,
Comb me smooth, and stroke my head:
And thou shalt have some cockle bread.
Gently dip, but not too deep,
For fear thou make the golden beard to weep.

Fair maid, white and red,
Comb me smooth, and stroke my head;
And every hair, a sheaf shall be,
And every sheaf a golden tree.

Face play

Knock at the door (Forehead Tap)
Ring the bell, (A Little Tug At Each Ear)
Lift the latch, (Eye Lids Raised)
Walk in, (Open Mouth And Pop A Finger Inside)
Take a chair, (Touch Right Cheek)
Sit down, (Touch Left Cheek)
Good morning, Sir! (Finger On Chin).

Fa, Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum!

Fa, Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum!
I smell the blood of an Englishman:
Be he alive, or be he dead,
I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.