Where she was going I couldn't but ask it,
For in her hand she carried a broom.
Old woman, old woman, old woman, quoth I,
O whither, O whither, O whither, so high?
To brush the cobwebs off the sky!
Shall I go with thee? Aye, by and by.
CCLXII.
There was an old man who liv'd in Middle Row,
He had five hens and a name for them, oh!
Bill and Ned and Battock,