Anonymous

To market, to market, to buy a fat pig, Home again, home again, jiggety-jig.

Sing, sing! What shall I sing? The cat’s run away with the pudding-bag string.

In fir tar is, In oak none is. In mud eel is, In clay none is. Goats eat ivy. Mares eat oats.

The man in the wilderness asked of me How many strawberries grew in the sea. I answered him as I thought good, “As many as red herrings grow in the wood.”

Shoe the horse, shoe the mare, But let the little colt go bare.

A dillar, a dollar, A ten o’clock scholar, What makes you come so soon? You used to come at ten o’clock, And now you come at noon.

Diddle diddle dumpling, my son John, He went to bed with his stockings on; One shoe off, one shoe on; Diddle diddle dumpling, my son John.

Fe fi fo fum! I smell the blood of an Englishman; Be he alive or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.

Curlylocks, Curlylocks, Wilt thou be mine? Thou shalt not wash dishes Nor yet feed the swine, But sit on a cushion And sew a fine seam, And feed upon strawberries, Sugar and cream.

There was an old woman Lived under a hill; And if she’s not gone, She lives there still.

All day they hunted, And nothing did they find, But a ship a-sailing, A-sailing with the wind.

Jack, be nimble, Jack, be quick, Jack, jump over the candlestick.

There was a crooked man, and he went a crooked mile, He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile; He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse, And they all lived together in a little crooked house.

There were two blackbirds, Sitting on a hill, The one named Jack, The other named Jill; Fly away, Jack! Fly away, Jill! Come again, Jack! Come again, Jill!

Sukey, take it off again, They’ve all gone away.

One misty, moisty morning, When cloudy was the weather, I chanced to meet an old man Clothed all in leather; He began to compliment, And I began to grin— “How do you do?” and “How do you do?” And “How do you do?” again!

I had a little pony, His name was Dapple Gray; I lent him to a lady To ride a mile away. She whipped him, she slashed him, She rode him through the mire; I would not lend my pony now For all the lady’s hire.

Little Tom Tucker Sings for his supper; What shall he eat? White bread and butter. How will he cut it Without e’er a knife? How will he be married Without e’er a wife?

Polly, put the kettle on, We’ll all have tea.

Solomon Grundy, Born on a Monday, Christened on Tuesday, Married on Wednesday, Took ill on Thursday, Worse on Friday, Died on Saturday, Buried on Sunday: This is the end Of Solomon Grundy.

There was a man in our town, And he was wondrous wise; He jumped into a bramble bush And scratched out both his eyes.

What are little girls made of? Sugar and spice, and everything nice; That’s what little girls are made of.

Hark! Hark! The dogs do bark, The beggars are coming to town; Some in rags, some in tags, And some in velvet gowns.

What are little boys made of? Snips and snails, and puppy dogs’ tails; That’s what little boys are made of.

Little Tommy Tittlemouse Lived in a little house; He caught fishes In other men’s ditches.

When good King Arthur ruled this land, He was a goodly king, He bought three pecks of barley meal, To make a bag pudding.

One flew east, one flew west, One flew over the cuckoo’s nest.

Rain, rain, go away, Come again another day.

This is the farmer sowing the corn, That kept the cock that crowed in the morn, That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tattered and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn, That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog That worried the cat That killed the rat That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

O do you know the muffin man, The muffin man, the muffin man, O do you know the muffin man, That lives in Drury Lane?

Monday’s child is fair of face, Tuesday’s child is full of grace, Wednesday’s child is full of woe, Thursday’s child has far to go, Friday’s child is loving and giving, Saturday’s child has to work for its living, But a child that’s born on the Sabbath day Is fair and wise and good and gay.

Rub-a-dub-dub, Three men in a tub, And who do you think they be? The butcher, the baker, The candlestick-maker; And all of them went to sea!

Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly, lavender’s green; When I am king, dilly dilly, you shall be queen.

Little Miss Muffet Sat on a tuffet, Eating some curds and whey. Along came a spider, And sat down beside her, And frightened Miss Muffet away.

The farmer in the dell, the farmer in the dell, Heigho! the derry oh, the farmer in the dell.

There was a little man, and he had a little gun, And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead; He went to the brook, and saw a little duck, And shot it through the head, head, head.