O Mary, O Mary, your true love is dead!
He sent you a letter to turn round your head.
O mother, O mother, do you think it is true?
O yes, O yes, and what shall I do?
I’ll wash you in milk, and dress you in silk,
And write down your name with a gold pen and ink.
SINGING GAME
Rosy apple, lemon, and pear,
Bunch of roses she shall wear,
Gold and silver by her side,
Choose the one to be your bride.
Take her by the lily-white hand,
Lead her across the water,
Give her kisses, one, two, three,
Mrs Rose’s daughter.
APPLE PIPS
One I love, two I love, three I love, I say
Four I love with all my heart, five I cast away;
Six he loves, seven she loves, eight they both love;
Nine he comes, ten he tarries,
Eleven he courts, and twelve he marries.