One misty, moisty morning, I chanced to meet an old man clothed all in eather. There was an old woman tost up in a blanket, What she did there, I cannot tell you, The north wind doth blow, And what will poor robin do then? And keep himself warm, Poor thing! And hide his head under his wing, Poor thing! Cold and raw the north winds blow All the hills are covered with snow, And winter's now come fairly. Here we go backward and forward, And vex his own baby will he? Here we go up, up, up, And here we go down, down, downy, And here we go backward and forward, And here we go round, round, roundy. The two grey Kits, And the grey Kits' mother, All went over The bridge together. The bridge broke down, They all fell in, May the rats go with you, C P |