The Drummer-Boy and the Sheperdess
Drummer-boy, drummer-boy, where is your drum?
And why do you weep, sitting here on your thumb?
The soldiers are out, and the fifes we can hear;
But where is the drum of the young grenadier?
“My dear little drum it was stolen away
Whilst I was asleep on a sunshiny day;
It was all through the drone of a big bumblebee,
And sheep and a shepherdess under a tree.”
Shepherdess, shepherdess, where is your crook?