One misty, moisty morning, I chanced to meet an old man clothed all in leather. And how do you do again? In April's sweet month, When the leaves 'gin to spring, Little lambs skip like fairies, And birds build and sing. There was an old woman tost up in a blanket, What she did there, I cannot tell you, Old woman, old woman, old woman, said I, Shoe the horse, and shoe the mare, 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, Where was a sugar and spicey? 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. |