Who killed Cock Robin?
Who killed Cock Robin?
“I”, said the Sparrow,
“With my bow and arrow.
I killed Cock Robin.”
Who saw him die?
“I”, said the Fly,
“With my little eye,
I saw him die.”
Who caught his blood?
“I”, said the Fish,
“With my little dish,
I caught his blood.”
Who’ll make the shroud?
“I”, said the Beetle,
“With my thread and my needle,
I’ll make the shroud.”
Who’ll dig his grave?
“I”, said the Owl,
“With my pick and shovel,
I’ll dig his grave.”
Who’ll be the parson?
“I”, said the Rook,
“With my little book,
I’ll be the parson.”
Who’ll be the clerk?
“I” said the Lark,
“If it’s not in the dark,
I’ll be the clerk.”
Who’ll carry the link?
“I”, said the Linnet,
“I’ll fetch it in a minute,
I’ll carry the link.”
Who’ll be chief mourner?
“I”, said the Dove,
“I mourn for my love,
I’ll be chief mourner.”
Who’ll carry the coffin?
“I”, said the Kite,
“If it’s not through the night,
I’ll carry the coffin.”
Who’ll bear the pall?
“We”, said the Wren,
Both the cock and the hen,
“We’ll bear the pall.”
Who’ll sing a psalm?
“I”, said the Thrush,
As she sat on a bush,
“I’ll sing a psalm.”
Who’ll toll the bell?
“I”, said the Bull,
“Because I can pull,
I’ll toll the bell.”
All the birds of the air,
Fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,
When they heard the bell toll,
For poor Cock Robin.
Who Is So Merry
OH who is so merry, so merry, heigh ho!
As the light- hearted fairy, heigh ho, heigh ho?
He dances and sings
To the sound of his wings,
With a hey, and a heigh, and a ho!
Oh, who is so merry, so merry, heigh ho!
As the light-hearted fairy, heigh ho, heigh ho?
His nectar he sips
From a primrose’s lips,
With a hey and a heigh, and a ho!
Who Are You
Who are you? A dirty old man.
I’ve always been so since the day I began.
Mother and Father were dirty before me,
Hot or cold water has never come o’er me.
White Bird Featherless
White bird featherless
Flew from Paradise,
pitched on the castle wall.
Along came Lord Landless,
Took it up handless,
And rode away horseless to the King’s white hall.
Whistle
“Whistle, daughter, whistle;
Whistle, daughter dear.”
“I cannot whistle, mammy,
I cannot whistle clear.”
“Whistle, daughter, whistle;
Whistle for a pound.”
“I cannot whistle, mammy,
I cannot make a sound.”
Which Loved Best
“I love you, Mother, said little John;
Then, forgetting his work, his cap went on.
And he was off to the garden swing,
Leaving his mother the wood to bring.
“I love you, Mother, said rosy Nell,
“I love you better than tongue can tell.”
Then she teased and pouted full half the day.
Till her mother was glad when she went to play.
I love you, Mother,” said little Fan,
“To-day I’ll help you all that I can;
How glad I am that school doesn’t keep!”
So she rocked the babe till he fell asleep.
Then stepping softly, she took the broom,
And swept the floor, and dusted the room.
Busy and happy all day was she;
Helpful and happy as a child could be.
“I love you, Mother,” again they said,
Three little children going to bed.
How do you think that mother guessed
Which of them really loved her best?
Where Go the Boats?
Dark brown is the river,
Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,
With trees on either hand.
Green leaves a-floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating,
Where will all come home?
On goes the river
And out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill.
Away down the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other little children
Shall bring my boats ashore.
Where are You Going to my Pretty Maid?
“Where are you going to, my pretty maid?”
“I’m going a-milking, sir,” she said.
“May I go with you, my pretty maid?”
“You’re kindly welcome, sir,” she said.
“What is your father, my pretty maid?”
“My father’s a farmer, sir,” she said.
“What is your fortune, my pretty maid?”
“My face is my fortune, sir,” she said.
“Then I can’t marry you, my pretty maid.”
When the Snow Is On the Ground
When the snow is on the ground,
Little Robin redbreast grieves.
For no berries can be found,
And on the trees there are no leaves.
The air is cold, the worms are hid.
For this poor bird what can be done?
We’ll strew him here some crumbs of bread,
And then he’ll live till the snow is gone.
When Jenny Wren Was Young
‘Twas once upon a time, when Jenny Wren was young,
So daintily she danced and so prettily she sung,
Robin Redbreast lost his heart, for he was a gallant bird.
So he doffed his hat to Jenny Wren, requesting to be heard.
“Oh, dearest Jenny Wren, if you will but be mine,
You shall feed on cherry pie and drink new currant wine,
I’ll dress you like a goldfinch or any peacock gay,
So, dearest Jen, if you’ll be mine, let us appoint the day.”
Jenny blushed behind her fan and thus declared her mind:
“Since dearest Bob I love you well, I’ll take your offer kind.
Cherry pie is very nice and so is currant wine,
But I must wear my plain brown gown
and never go too fine.
When Icicles Hang
When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail;
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail:
When blood is nipt, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit to-who.
A merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson’s saw:
The birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian’s nose looks red and raw:
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit to-who.
A merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When I Was A Little Boy
When I was a little boy,
I had but little wit;
It is some time ago,
And I’ve no more yet.
Nor ever, ever shall,
Until that I die;
For the longer I live
The more fool am I.
When Daisies Pied and Violets Blue
When daisies pied, and violets blue,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue:
And lady-smocks all silver white,
Do paint the meadow with delight.
The cuckoo then on every tree,
Mocks married men, for this sings he,
Cuckoo; cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear,
Appeasing to a married ear.
When Clouds Appear
When clouds appear
Like rocks and towers,
The earth’s refreshed
By frequent showers.
When
When I was a bachelor
I lived by myself;
And all the bread and cheese I got
I laid up on the shelf.
The rats and the mice
They made such a strife,
I was forced to go to London
To buy me a wife.
The streets were so bad,
And the lanes were so narrow,
I was forced to bring my wife home
In a wheelbarrow.
The wheelbarrow broke,
And my wife had a fall;
Down came wheelbarrow,
Little wife and all.
What’s Your Name
What’s your name?
Pudden Tame.
What’s your other?
Bread and Butter.
Where do you live?
In a sieve.
What’s your number?
Cucumber.
What Polly Found In Her Stocking
With the first pale glimmer,
Of the morning red,
Polly woke delighted
And flew out of bed.
To the door she hurried,
Never stopped for clothes,
Though Jack Frost’s cold fingers
Nipt her little toes.
There it hung! the stocking,
Long and blue and full;
Down it quickly tumbled
With a hasty pull.
Back she capered, laughing,
Happy little Polly;
For from out the stocking
Stared a splendid dolly!
Next, what most she wanted,
In a golden nut,
With a shining thimble,
Scissors that would cut.
Then a book all pictures,
“Children in the Wood.”
And some scarlet mittens
Like her scarlet hood.
Next a charming jump-rope,
New and white and strong;
(Little Polly’s stocking
Though small was very long,)
In the heel she fumbled,
“Something soft and warm,”
A rainbow ball of worsted
Which could do no harm.
In the foot came bon-bons,
In the toe a ring,
And some seeds of mignonette
Ready for the spring.
There she sat at daylight
Hugging close dear dolly;
Eating, looking, laughing,
Happy little Polly!
What Might Have Been
The little birds are singing
Above their speckled eggs,
The daddy long-legs talks about
His children’s lovely legs.
The red cow thinks her little calf
The best that there can be,
And my papa and my mamma
Are very proud of me!
And yet I might have been a bird,
And slept within a nest,
Or been a daddy-long-legs,
With scarcely any chest.
Or been a little calf or pig,
And grown to beef or ham;
I’m very, very, very glad
That I am what I am!
What Did I Dream
What did I dream? I do not know:
The fragments fly like chaff.
Yet strange, my mind was tickled so
I cannot help but laugh.
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