When the wind is in the south, It blows the bait in the fishes' mouth; Then 'tis at the very best. Hearts, like doors, will ope with ease And don't forget that two of these, If wishes were horses, If turnips were watches, Cross-patch, Draw the latch, Sit by the fire and spin; Take a cup, And drink it up, Then call your neighbors in. For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; For want of the horse, the rider was lost; Monday's child is fair of face, My Lady Wind, my Lady Wind, She tried the keyhole in the door, And drove the chimney soot in. And then one night when it was dark, That all the town was bothered; From it she raised such flame and smoke That many in great terror woke, And many more were smothered. And thus when once, my little dears, A whisper reaches itching ears The same will come, you'll find: Take my advice, restrain the tongue, Remember what old nurse has sung Of busy Lady Wind. |