There was an old woman, and what do you think?
She lived upon nothing but victuals and drink;
Victuals and drink were the chief of her diet,
Yet this grumbling old woman could never be quiet.
There was a little man,
And he had a little gun,
And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead;
He went to the brook,
And saw a little duck,
And he shot it through the head, head, head.
He carried it home
To his old wife Joan,
And bid her a fire for to make, make, make;
To roast the little duck
He had shot in the brook,
And he’d go and fetch her the drake, drake, drake.
| I had a little pony, His name was Dapple Gray, I lent him to a lady, To ride a mile away. She whipp’d him, She lash’d him, She rode him Through the mire; I would not lend My pony now For all the lady’s hire. |
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Jack Sprat would eat no fat,
His wife would eat no lean;
Now was not this a pretty trick
To make the platter clean?
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
A cat came fiddling out of a barn,
With a pair of bagpipes under her arm;
She could sing nothing but “Fiddle de dee,
The mouse has married the humble bee.”
| Remember, remember, The fifth of November, Gunpowder treason and plot; I see no reason Why gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot. Hurrah! |