SONGS. 91. [This is the version generally given in nursery collections, but is some. what different in the "Pills to Purge Melancholy," 1719, vol. iv. p. 148.] 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! 92. THERE was a man in our toone, in our toone, in our toone, There was a man in our toone, and his name was Billy Pod; And he played upon an old razor, an old razor, an old razor, And he played upon an old razor, with my fiddle fiddle fe fum fo. And his hat it was made of the good roast beef, the good roast beef, the good roast beef, And his hat it was made of the good roast beef, and his name was Billy Pod; And he played upon an old razor, &c. And his coat it was made of the good fat tripe, the good fat tripe, the good fat tripe, And his coat it was made of the good fat tripe, and his name was Billy Pod; And he played upon an old razor, &c. And his breeks were made of the bawbie baps, the bawbie baps, the bawbie baps, And his breeks were made of the bawbie baps, and his name was Billy Pod; And he played upon an old razor, &c. And there was a man in tither toone, in tither toone, in tither toone, And there was a man in tither toone, and his name was Edrin Drum; And he played upon an old laadle, an old laadle, an old laadle, And he played upon an old laadle, with my fiddle fiddle fe fum fo. And he eat up all the good roast beef, the good roast beef, &c. &c. And he eat up all the good fat tripe, the good fat tripe, &c. &c. And he eat up all the bawbie baps, &c. and his name was Edrin Drum. 93. JOHN COOK had a little gray mare; he, haw, hum! Her back stood up, and her bones they were bare; he, haw, hum! John Cook was riding up Shuter's bank; he, haw, hum! And there his nag did kick and prank; he, haw, hum! John Cook was riding up Shuter's hill; he, haw, hum! His mare fell down, and she made her will; he, haw, hum ! The bridle and saddle were laid on the shelf; he, haw, hum! If you want any more you may sing it yourself; he haw, hum! 94. A CARRION Crow sat on an oak, Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do, Wife, bring me my old bent bow, Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do, The tailor he shot and missed his mark, Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do; And shot his own sow quite through the heart ; Sing heigh ho, the carrion crow, Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do. Wife, bring brandy in a spoon; Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do, Sing heigh ho, the carrion crow, [Another version from MS. Sloan, 1489, fol. 17, written in the reign of Charles I.] Hic hoc, the carrion crow, For I have shot something too low: I have quite missed my mark, And shot the poor sow to the heart; Or else the poor sow's heart will down. * F |