She wouldn't have on her naughty bib!
She wouldn't get into her naughty crib!
She wouldn't do this, and she wouldn't do that,
And she would put her foot in her Sunday hat.
She wouldn't look over her picture-book!
She wouldn't run out to help the cook!
She wouldn't be petted or coaxed or teased,
And she would do exactly whatever she pleased.
She wouldn't have naughty rice to eat!
She wouldn't be gentle and good and sweet!
She wouldn't give me one single kiss,
And pray what could we do with a girl like this?
We tickled her up, and we tickled her down,
From her toddling toes to her curling crown.
And we kissed her and tossed her, until she was fain
To promise she wouldn't say "wouldn't" again.
[WILL-O'-THE-WISP.]
"Will-o'-the-wisp! Will-o'-the-wisp!
Show me your lantern true!
Over the meadow and over the hill,
Gladly I'll follow you.
Never I'll murmur nor ask to rest,
And ever I'll be your friend,
If you'll only give me the pot of gold
That lies at your journey's end."
Will-o'-the-wisp, Will-o'-the-wisp,
Lighted his lantern true;
Over the meadow and over the hill,
Away and away he flew.
And away and away went the poor little boy,
Trudging along so bold,
And thinking of naught but the journey's end,
And the wonderful pot of gold.
Will-o'-the-wisp, Will-o'-the-wisp,
Flew down to a lonely swamp;
He put out his lantern and vanished away
In the evening chill and damp.
And the poor little boy went shivering home,
Wet and tired and cold;
He had come, alas! to his journey's end,
But where was the pot of gold?