| Run William to the baker's man, And quick to him apply; I know he'll give you, if he can, A smoking hot mince-pie. |
| Ah! poor little Red Riding Hood, You never once dreamt, When you met the Wolf in the wood, Of his cruel intent. |
| Oh! ask me not to be your bride, Oh! do not call me fair; For I have thrown the wreath aside, I once was proud to wear. |
| Away went Gilpin neck or nought; Away went hat and wig; He little dreamt when he set out, Of running such a rig. |
