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LITTLE Jack Jelf

Was put on the shelf

Because he would not spell pie;
When his aunt, Mrs. Grace,
Saw his sorrowful face,

She could not help saying, O fie!

And since Master Jelf

Was put on the shelf

Because he would not spell pie,
Let him stand there so grim,

And no more about him,
For I wish him a very good-bye'


OF all the birds that ever I see,

The owl is the fairest in her degree:

For all the day long she sits in a tree,
And when the night comes, away flies she!
Te whit, te whow!

Sir knave to thou!

This song is well sung, I make you a vow,
And he is a knave that drinketh now.

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a song of sixpence,
A bag full of rye;
Four-and-twenty blackbird
Baked in a pie.

When the pie was open'd,
The birds began to sing;
Was not that a dainty dish
To set before the king?

The king was in his counting-house,
Counting out his money;
The queen was in the parlour,

Eating bread and honey;
The maid was in the garden,

Hanging out the clothes;

By came a little bird,

And snapp'd off her nose.

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OCK-A-BYE, baby, thy cradle is green;
Father's a nobleman, mother's a queen;
And Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring;
And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the king.


THE girl in the lane, that couldn't speak plain,
Cried, gobble, gobble, gobble;

The man on the hill, that could n't stand still,
Went hobble, hobble, hobble.



ERE'S a poor widow from Babylon,
With six poor children all alone;

One can bake, and one can brew,

One can shape, and one can sew,

One can sit at the fire and spin,

One can bake a cake for the king:

Come choose you east, come choose you west,

Come choose the one that you love best.

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