THE OLD WOMAN TOSSED UP IN A BLANKET

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There was an old woman tossed up in a blanket,
Seventeen times as high as the moon;
Where she was going I could not 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 sweep the cobwebs from the sky,
And I’ll be with you by-and-by!”

BUY A BROOM

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From Deutschland I come with my light wares all laden,
To dear happy England in summer’s gay bloom;
Then listen, fair lady, and young pretty mädchen,
Come buy of the wandering Baierin a broom;
A large one for the lady, and a small one for the baby,
Come buy ye, pretty lady, come buy ye a broom.