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There was an old woman

Sold puddings and pies,

She went to the mill,

And the dust flew in her eyes.

While through the streets,

To all she meets,

She ever cries,

Hot Pies Hot Pies.

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The little Robin grieves

When the snow is on the ground,

For the trees have no leaves,

And no berries can be found.

The air is cold, the worms are hid,
For Robin here what can be done?
Let's strow around some crums of bread,

And then he'll live till snow is gone.

Little Jack Nory
Told me a story
How he tried

Cock-horse toride, Sword and scabbard by his side, Saddle, leaden spurs and switches,

His pocket tight

With cents all bright,

Marbles, tops, puzzles, props,

Now he's put in jacket and breeches.

There were two blackbirds sitting on a hill,
One name Jack, and the other name Jill;
Fly away, Jack — fly away, Jill,

Come again, Jack-come again, Jill.

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Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs in his night gown;
Tapping at the window, crying at the lock,
"Are the babes in their beds, for it's now ten o'clock?"

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