CCLXXIII. TRIP upon trenchers, and dance upon dishes, Yet didn't you see, yet didn't you see, And spilt the water, And chid her daughter, And kiss'd my sister instead of me. CCLXXIV. I'LL sing you a song: The days are long, The woodcock and the sparrow: The little dog has burnt his tail, And he must be hang'd to-morrow. CCLXXV. THE cat sat asleep by the side of the fire, CCLXXVI. THE SOW came in with the saddle, Call'd the dish-clout a nasty slut : Odds-bobs, says the gridiron, can't you agree? CCLXXVII. AROUND the green gravel the grass grows green, And all the pretty maids are plain to be seen; Wash them with milk, and clothe them with silk, And write their names with a pen and ink. CCLXXVIII. [The song of a boy while passing his hour of solitude in a corn-field.] AWA' birds, away, Take a little and leave a little, And do not come again; For if you do, I will shoot you through, And there is an end of you. CCLXXIX. THOMAS a Didymus, king of the Jews, Jumped into the fire and burned both his shoes. CCLXXX. WHAT care I how black I be, CCLXXXI. A LITTLE old man and I fell out; How shall we bring this matter about? Get you gone, you little old man ! CCLXXXII. BOBBY SHAFT is gone to sea, With silver buckles at his knee; When he'll come home he'll marry me, Bobby Shaft is fat and fair, Combing down his yellow hair; He's my love for evermore! Pretty Bobby Shaft! CCLXXXIII. RIDE, baby, ride, Pretty baby shall ride, And have little puppy-dog tied to her side, And away she shall ride to see her grandmother. To see her grandmother. CCLXXXIV. THE rose is red, the violet's blue, CCLXXXV. ONE misty moisty morning, When cloudy was the weather, There I met an old man Clothed all in leather; Clothed all in leather, With cap under his chin. How do you do, and how do you do, And how do you do again? CCLXXXVI. I LOVE sixpence, pretty little sixpence, Oh, my little fourpence, pretty little fourpence, Oh, my little twopence, my pretty little twopence, I spent a penny of it, I spent another, Oh, my little nothing, my pretty little nothing, What will nothing buy for my wife? I have nothing, I spend nothing, I love nothing better than my wife. CCLXXXVII. Of all the gay birds that e'er I did see, |