Sing a song of six-pence, a pock-et full of Rye,
Four and twen-ty Black-birds baked in a Pie;
When the Pie was o-pen-ed, the Birds be-gan to sing;
Was not that a dain-ty dish to set before a King?
The King was in the Count-ing-house, count-ing out his mo-ney;
The Queen was in the Par-lour, eat-ing bread and ho-ney;
The Maid was in the Gar-den, hang-ing out the clothes.
By came a Black-bird, and snap-ped off her nose.
A diller, a dollar,
A ten o’clock scholar,
What makes you come so soon?
You used to come at ten o’clock,
But now you come at noon.