There was a little man,

And he woo'd a little maid,

And he said, "little maid, will you wed, wed, wed?

I have little more to say,

Than will you, yea or nay,

For least said is soonest mended-ded, ded, ded."

The little maid replied,

Some say a little sighed,

"But what shall we have for to eat, eat, eat?

Will the love that you're so rich in

Make a fire in the kitchen?

Or the little god of Love turn the spit, spit, spit?"

There was a little boy and a little girl

Lived in an alley;

Says the little boy to the little girl,

"Shall I, oh! shall I?"

Says the little girl to the little boy,

"What shall we do?"

Says the little boy to the little girl,

"I will kiss you."

A cow and a calf,

An ox and a half,

Forty good shillings and three;

Is that not enough tocher

For a shoe-maker's daughter,

A bonny lass with a black e'e?

O the little rusty, dusty, rusty miller!

I'll not change my wife for either gold or siller.

As Tommy Snooks and Bessy Brooks

Were walking out one Sunday,

Says Tommy Snooks to Bessy Brooks,

"To-morrow will be Monday."

Little Jack Jingle,

He used to live single:

But when he got tired of this kind of life,

He left off being single, and liv'd with his wife.

When shall we be married,

My dear Nicholas Wood?

We will be married on Monday,

And will not that be very good?

What, shall we be married no sooner?

Why sure the man's gone wood!*

What shall we have for our dinner,

My dear Nicholas Wood?

We will have bacon and pudding,

And will not that be very good?

What, shall we have nothing more?

Why sure the man's gone wood!

Who shall we have at our wedding,

My dear Nicholas Wood?

We will have mammy and daddy,

And will not that be very good?

What, shall we have nobody else?

Why sure the man's gone wood!

Tommy Trot, a man of law,

Sold his bed and lay upon straw:

Sold the straw and slept on grass,

To buy his wife a looking-glass.

We're all dry with drinking on't.

We're all dry with drinking on't;

The piper spoke to the fiddler's wife,

And I can't sleep for thinking on't.

"John, come sell thy fiddle,

And buy thy wife a gown."

"No, I'll not sell my fiddle,

For ne'er a wife in town."

Up hill and down dale;

Butter is made in every vale,

And if that Nancy Cook

Is a good girl,

She shall have a spouse,

And make butter anon,

Before her old grandmother

Grows a young man.

Jack in the pulpit, out and in;

Sold his wife for a minikin pin.

Did you see my wife, did you see, did you see,

Did you see my wife looking for me?

She wears a straw bonnet, with white ribbands on it,

And dimity petticoats over her knee.

Rosemary green,

And lavender blue,

Thyme and sweet marjoram,

Hyssop and rue.

"Little maid, pretty maid, whither goest thou?"

"Down in the forest to milk my cow."

"Shall I go with thee?" "No, not now;

When I send for thee, then come thou."

I am a pretty wench,

And I come a great way hence,

And sweethearts I can get none:

But every dirty sow,

Can get sweethearts enow,

And I, pretty wench, can get never a one.

Birds of a feather flock together,

And so will pigs and swine;

Rats and mice will have their choice,

And so will I have mine.

Hemp-seed I set,

Hemp-seed I sow,

The young man that I love,

Come after me and mow!

Jack Sprat could eat no fat,

His wife could eat no lean;

And so, betwixt them both, you see,

They lick'd the platter clean.

Little Jack Dandy-prat was my first suitor;

He had a dish and a spoon, and he'd some pewter;

He'd linen and woollen, and woollen and linen,

A little pig in a string cost him five shilling.

Oh, madam, I will give you the keys of Canterbury,

To set all the bells ringing when we shall be merry,

If you will but walk abroad with me,

If you will but walk with me.

Sir, I'll not accept of the keys of Canterbury,

To set all the bells ringing when we shall be merry;

Neither will I walk abroad with thee,

Neither will I talk with thee!

Oh, madam, I will give you a fine carved comb,

To comb out your ringlets when I am from home,

If you will but walk with me, &c.

Sir, I'll not accept, &c.

Oh, madam, I will give you a pair of shoes of cork,*

One made in London, the other made in York,

If you will but walk with me, &c.

Sir, I'll not accept, &c.

Madam, I will give you a sweet silver bell,†

To ring up your maidens when you are not well,

If you will but walk with me, &c.

Sir, I'll not accept, &c.

Oh, my man John, what can the matter be?

I love the lady and the lady loves not me!

Neither will she walk abroad with me,

Neither will she talk with me.

Oh, master dear, do not despair,

The lady she shall be, shall be your only dear,

And she will walk and talk with thee,

And she will walk with thee!

Oh, madam, I will give you the keys of my chest,

To count my gold and silver when I am gone to rest,

If you will but walk abroad with me,

If you will but talk with me.

Oh, sir, I will accept of the keys of your chest,

To count your gold and silver when you are gone to rest,

And I will walk abroad with thee,

And I will talk with thee!

He.   If you with me will go, my love,

You shall see a pretty show, my love,

Let dame say what she will:

If you will have me, my love,

I will have thee, my love,

So let the milk-pail stand still.

She.   Since you have said so, my love,

Longer I will go, my love,

Let dame say what she will:

If you will have me, my love,

I will have thee, my love,

So let the milk-pail stand still.

On Saturday night,

Shall be all my care

To powder my locks

And curl my hair.

On Sunday morning

My love will come in,

When he will marry me

With a gold ring.

Master I have, and I am his man,

Gallop a dreary dun;

Master I have, and I am his man,

And I'll get a wife as fast as I can;

With a heighly gaily gamberally,

Higgledy piggledy, niggledy, niggledy,

Gallop a dreary dun.

I doubt, I doubt my fire is out,

My little wife isn't at home;

I'll saddle my dog, and I'll bridle my cat,

And I'll go fetch my little wife home.

Young Roger came tapping at Dolly's window,

Thumpaty, thumpaty, thump!

He asked for admittance, she answered him "No!"

Frumpaty, frumpaty, frump!

"No, no, Roger, no! as you came you may go!"

Stumpaty, stumpaty, stump!

Thomas and Annis met in the dark.

"Good morning," said Thomas.

"Good morning," said Annis.

And so they began to talk.

"I'll give you," says Thomas,

"Give me," said Annis;

"I prithee, love, tell me what?"

"Some nuts," said Thomas.

"Some nuts," said Annis;

"Nuts are good to crack."

"I love you," said Thomas.

"Love me!" said Annis;

"I prithee love tell me where?"

"In my heart," said Thomas.

"In your heart!" said Annis;

"How came you to love me there?"

"I'll marry you," said Thomas.

"Marry me!" said Annis;

"I prithee, love, tell me when?"

"Next Sunday," said Thomas.

"Next Sunday," said Annis;

"I wish next Sunday were come."

Saw ye aught of my love a coming from ye market!

A peck of meal upon her back,

A babby in her basket;

Saw ye aught of my love a coming from the market?

I had a little husband,

No bigger than my thumb;

I put him in a pint pot,

And there I bid him drum.

I bought a little horse,

That galloped up and down;

I bridled him, and saddled him,

And sent him out of town.

I gave him some garters,

To garter up his hose,

And a little handkerchief,

To wipe his pretty nose.

Can you make me a cambric shirt,

Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;

Without any seam or needlework?

And you shall be a true lover of mine.

Can you wash it in yonder well,

Parsley, &c.

Where never sprung water, nor rain ever fell?

And you, &c.

Can you dry it on yonder thorn,

Parsley, &c.

Which never bore blossom since Adam was born?

And you, &c.

Now you have ask'd me questions three,

Parsley, &c.

I hope you'll answer as many for me,

And you, &c.

Can you find me an acre of land,

Parsley, &c.

Between the salt water and the sea sand?

And you, &c.

Can you plough it with a ram's horn,

Parsley, &c.

And sow it all over with one pepper-corn?

And you, &c.

Can you reap it with a sickle of leather,

Parsley, &c.

And bind it up with a peacock's feather?

And you, &c.

When you have done and finish'd your work,

Parsley, &c.

Then come to me for your cambric shirt,

And you, &c.

Where have you been to-day, Billy, my son?

Where have you been to-day, my only man!

I've been a-wooing, mother; make my bed soon,

For I'm sick at heart, and fain would lay down.

What have you ate to-day, Billy, my son?

What have you ate to-day, my only man?

I've ate an eel-pie, mother; make my bed soon,

For I'm sick at heart, and shall die before noon!

I married my wife by the light of the moon,

A tidy housewife, a tidy one;

She never gets up until it is noon,

And I hope she'll prove a tidy one.

And when she gets up, she is slovenly laced,

A tidy, &c.

She takes up the poker to roll out the paste,

And I hope, &c.

She churns her butter in a boot,

A tidy, &c.

And instead of a churnstaff she puts in her foot,

And I hope, &c.

She lays her cheese on the scullery shelf,

A tidy, &c.

And she never turns it till it turns itself.

And I hope, &c.

There was a little maid, and she was afraid,

That her sweetheart would come unto her;

So she went to bed, and cover'd up her head

And fasten'd the door with a skewer.

"Madam, I am come to court you,

If your favour I can gain."

"Ah, Ah!" said she, "you are a bold fellow,

If I e'er see your face again!"

"Madam, I have rings and diamonds,

Madam, I have houses and land,

Madam, I have a world of treasure,

All shall be at your command."

"I care not for rings and diamonds,

I care not for houses and lands,

I care not for a world of treasure,

So that I have but a handsome man."

"Madam, you think much of beauty,

Beauty hasteneth to decay,

For the fairest of flowers that grow in summer

Will decay and fade away."

Up street, and down street,

Each window's made of glass;

If you go to Tommy Tickler's house,

You'll find a pretty lass.

Oh! mother, I shall be married to Mr. Punchinello.

To Mr. Punch,

To Mr. Joe,

To Mr. Nell,

To Mr. Lo.

Mr. Punch, Mr. Joe,

Mr. Nell, Mr. Lo,

To Mr. Punchinello.

Little John Jiggy Jag,

He rode a penny nag,

And went to Wigan to woo;

When he came to a beck,

He fell and broke his neck,—

Johnny, how dost thou now?

I made him a hat,

Of my coat-lap,

And stockings of pearly blue.

A hat and a feather,

To keep out cold weather;

So, Johnny, how dost thou now?

Bonny lass, canny lass, willta be mine?

Thou'se neither wesh dishes, nor sarrah (serve) the swine,

Thou sall sit on a cushion, and sew up a seam,

And thou sall eat strawberries, sugar, and cream!

Bessy Bell and Mary Gray,*

They were two bonny lasses:

They built their house upon the lea,

And covered it with rashes.

Bessy kept the garden gate,

And Mary kept the pantry:

Bessy always had to wait,

While Mary lived in plenty.

Jack and Jill went up the hill,

To fetch a pail of water;

Jack fell down, and broke his crown,

And Jill came tumbling after.

Little Tom Dandy

Was my first suitor,

He had a spoon and dish,

And a little pewter.

There was a little pretty lad,

And he lived by himself,

And all the meat he got

He put upon a shelf.

The rats and the mice

Did lead him such a life,

That he went to Ireland

To get himself a wife.

The lanes they were so broad,

And the fields they were so narrow,

He couldn't get his wife home

Without a wheelbarrow.

The wheelbarrow broke,

My wife she got a kick,

The deuce take the wheelbarrow,

That spared my wife's neck.

Rowley Powley, pudding and pie,

Kissed the girls and made them cry;

When the girls begin to cry,

Rowley Powley runs away.

 Margaret wrote a letter,

  Seal'd it with her finger,

  Threw it in the dam

  For the dusty miller.

  Dusty was his coat,

  Dusty was the siller,

  Dusty was the kiss

  I'd from the dusty miller.

  If I had my pockets

  Full of gold and siller,

  I would give it all

  To my dusty miller.

Chorus. O the little, little,

Rusty, dusty, miller.

Love your own, kiss your own.

Love your own mother, hinny,

For if she was dead and gone,

You'd ne'er get such another, hinny.

Here comes a lusty wooer,

My a dildin, my a daldin;

Here comes a lusty wooer,

Lily bright and shine a'.

Pray, who do you woo,

My a dildin, my a daldin?

Pray, who do you woo,

Lily bright and shine a'?

For your fairest daughter,

My a dildin, my a daldin;

For your fairest daughter,

Lily bright and shine a'.

Then there she is for you,

My a dildin, my a daldin;

Then there she is for you,

Lily bright and shine a'.

O rare Harry Parry,

When will you marry?

When apples and pears are ripe.

I'll come to your wedding,

Without any bidding,

And dance and sing all the night.

Blue eye beauty,

Grey eye greedy,

Black eye blackie,

Brown eye brownie.

Curly locks! curly locks! wilt thou be mine?

Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor yet feed the swine;

But sit on a cushion and sow a fine seam,

And feed upon strawberries, sugar, and cream!

he cuckoo's a fine bird,

He sings as he flies;

He brings us good tidings,

He tells us no lies.

He sucks little birds' eggs,

To make his voice clear;

And when he sings "cuckoo!"

The summer is near.

The cuckoo's a vine bird,

A zengs as a vlies;

A brengs us good tidins,

And tells us no lies;

A zucks th' smael birds' eggs,

To make his voice clear;

And the mwore a cries "cuckoo!"

The zummer draws near.

I had a little dog, and his name was Blue Bell,

I gave him some work, and he did it very well;

I sent him up stairs to pick up a pin,

He stepped in the coal-scuttle up to the chin;

I sent him to the garden to pick some sage,

He tumbled down and fell in a rage;

I sent him to the cellar to draw a pot of beer,

He came up again and said there was none there.

The cat sat asleep by the side of the fire,

The mistress snored loud as a pig:

Jack took up his fiddle, by Jenny's desire,

And struck up a bit of a jig.

I had a little hobby-horse, and it was well shod,

It carried me to the mill-door, trod, trod, trod;

When I got there I gave a great shout,

Down came the hobby-horse, and I cried out.

Fie upon the miller, he was a great beast,

He would not come to my house, I made a little feast,

I had but little, but I would give him some,

For playing of his bag-pipes and beating his drum.

Pit, Pat, well-a-day,

Little Robin flew away;

Where can little Robin be?

Gone into the cherry tree.

Little Poll Parrot

Sat in his garret,

Eating toast and tea;

A little brown mouse,

Jumped into the house,

And stole it all away.

Snail, snail, come out of your hole,

Or else I will beat you as black as a coal.

Sneel, snaul,

Robbers are coming to pull down your wall;

Sneel, snaul,

Put out your horn,

Robbers are coming to steal your corn,

Coming at four o'clock in the morn.

Burnie bee, burnie bee,

Tell me when your wedding be?

If it be to-morrow day,

Take your wings and fly away.

Some little mice sat in a barn to spin;

Pussy came by, and popped her head in;

"Shall I come in, and cut your threads off?"

"Oh! no, kind sir, you will snap our heads off?"

The sow came in with the saddle,

The little pig rock'd the cradle

The dish jump'd over the table

To see the pot with the ladle.

The broom behind the butt

Call'd the dish-clout a nasty slut:

Oh! Oh! says the gridiron, can't you agree?

I'm the head constable,—come along with me.

"What do they call you?"

"Patchy Dolly."

"Where were you born?"

"In the cow's horn."

"Where were you bred?"

"In the cow's head."

"Where will you die?"

"In the cow's eye."

As I went over the water,

The water went over me.

I saw two little blackbirds sitting on a tree:

The one called me a rascal,

The other called me a thief;

I took up my little black stick,

And knocked out all their teeth.

Four and twenty tailors went to kill a snail,

The best man among them durst not touch her tail;

She put out her horns like a little Kyloe cow,

Run, tailors, run, or she'll kill you all e'en now.

'Twas the twenty-ninth of May, 'twas a holiday,

Four and twenty tailors set out to hunt a snail;

The snail put forth his horns, and roared like a bull,

Away ran the tailors, and catch the snail who wull.

Croak! said the Toad, I'm hungry, I think,

To-day I've had nothing to eat or to drink,

I'll crawl to a garden and jump through the pales,

And there I'll dine nicely on slugs and on snails;

Ho, ho! quoth the Frog, is that what you mean?

Then I'll hop away to the next meadow stream,

There I will drink, and eat worms and slugs too,

And then I shall have a good dinner like you.

Gray goose and gander,

Waft your wings together,

And carry the good king's daughter

Over the one strand river.

Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, where have you been?

I've been up to London to look at the queen.

Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, what did you there?

I frighten'd a little mouse under the chair.

I had a little dog, and they called him Buff;

I sent him to the shop for a hap'orth of snuff;

But he lost the bag, and spill'd the snuff,

So take that cuff, and that's enough.

All of a row,

Bend the bow,

Shot at a pigeon,

And killed a crow.

The cock doth crow,

To let you know,

If you be wise,

'Tis time to rise.

There was an owl lived in an oak,

Wisky, wasky, weedle;

And every word he ever spoke

Was fiddle, faddle, feedle.

A gunner chanced to come that way,

Wisky, wasky, weedle;

Says he, "I'll shoot you, silly bird."

Fiddle, faddle, feedle.

When the snow is on the ground,

Little Robin Red-breast 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.

A pie sate on a pear-tree,

A pie sate on a pear-tree,

A pie sate on a pear-tree,

Heigh O, heigh O, heigh O!

Once so merrily hopp'd she,

Twice so merrily hopp'd she,

Thrice so merrily hopp'd she,

Heigh O, heigh O, heigh O!

There was an old crow

Sat upon a clod:

There's an end of my song,

That's odd!

Cuckoo, Cuckoo,

What do you do?

In April

I open my bill;

In May

I sing night and day;

In June

I change my tune;

In July

Away I fly;

In August

Away I must.

"Robert Barnes, fellow fine,

Can you shoe this horse of mine?"

"Yes, good sir, that I can,

As well as any other man:

There's a nail, and there's a prod,

And now, good sir, your horse is shod."