And all the dogs in our town shall have a bit.
[Saturday night shall be my whole care]
To powder my locks and curl my hair;
On Sunday morning my love will come in
And marry me then with a pretty gold ring.
| [Dear Sensibility, O la!] I heard a little lamb cry, baa! Says I, “So you have lost mamma?” “Ah!” The little lamb, as I said so, Frisking about the fields did go, And, frisking, trod upon my toe. “Oh!” |
[Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold,]
Pease porridge in the pot nine days old.