1, 2, 3, 4, 5,
I caught a hare alive;
6, 7, 8, 9, 10,
I let her go again.
Here stands a fist,
Who set it there?
A better man than you,
Touch him if you dare.
A little old man and I fell out,
How shall we bring this matter about?
Bring it about as well as you can,
Get you gone, you little old man!
Little boy, pretty boy, where was you born?
In Lincolnshire, master: come blow the cow's horn.
A halfpenny pudding, a penny pye,
A shoulder of mutton, and that love I.
The man in the moon
Came tumbling down,
And ask'd his way to Norwich.
He went by the south,
And burnt his mouth,
With supping hot pease porridge.