Ride away, ride away, Johnny shall ride, Tied to one side; Tied to the other, To see his grandmother. Hush-a-bye, baby, lie still with thy daddy, Thy mammy is gone to the mill, So pray, my dear baby, lie still. Little lad, little lad, Where were you born ? Where they sup butter-milk With a ram's horn ; With a yellow rim, Z CAREERSTAN PASISARE KAROSERAMALARINI UNUNU Pretty John Watts, . We are troubled with rats, We have mice too in plenty, That feast in the pantry, Shake a leg, wag a leg, when will you gang? At midsummer, mother, when the days are lang. Ride away, ride away, Johnny shall ride, Tied to one side ; Tied to the other, To see his grandmother. Hush-a-bye, baby, lie still with thy daddy, Thy mammy is gone to the mill, . - EO- Where were you born ? Where they sup butter-milk With a ram's horn ; With a yellow rim, Pretty John Watts, We are troubled with rats, That feast in the pantry, Shake a leg, wag a leg, when will you gang? At midsummer, mother, when the days are lang. See saw, sacradown, sacradown, Tom Brown's two little Indian boys, One ran away, The other would n't stay, Hop away, skip away, my baby wants to play. My baby wants to play every day. |