Yes, sir, yes, sir, Three bags full:

One for my mas-ter, One for my dame, And one for the lit-tle boy That lives in our lane.

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One mis-ty morn-ing, When clou-dy was the wea-ther, I met a lit-tle old man, Cloth-ed all in lea-ther, Cloth-ed all in lea-ther, With a strap be-low his chin.

How do you do? and how do you do?

And how do you do a-gain?

Dee-dle, dee-dle, dump-ling, my son John, He went to bed with his stock-ings on; One shoe off, and one shoe on.

Dee-dle, dee-dle, dump-ling, my son John.

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Swan, swan, over the sea; Swim, swan, swim.

Swan, swan, back again; Well, swan, swam.

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I had a lit-tle Hus-band, no big-ger than my thumb; I put him in a pint-pot, and there I bid him drum.

I bought a lit-tle horse that gal-lop-ed up and down; I sad-dled him and bri-dled him, and sent him out of town.

I gave him some gar-ters, to gar-ter up his hose, And a lit-tle pock-et hand-ker-chief to wipe his pretty nose.

Ma-ry, Ma-ry, quite con-tra-ry, How does your gar-den grow?

Sil-ver bells and coc-kle sh.e.l.ls, And pret-ty maids all in a row.

Hey, my kit-ten, my kit-ten, Hey, my kit-ten, my deary; Such a sweet pet as this Was nei-ther far nor neary.

Here we go up, up, up, Here we go down, down, downy; Here we go back-wards and for-wards, And here we go round, round, roundy.

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Some lit-tle mice sat in a barn to spin.

Pus-sy came by, and she pop-ped her head in; "Shall I come in and cut your threads off?"

"Oh no, kind sir, you will snap our heads off."

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Ding, dong, bell, Pus-sy's in the well.

Who put her in? Lit-tle Tom-my Green.

Who pull-ed her out? Lit-tle Tom-my Trout.

What a naugh-ty boy was that, To drown poor Pus-sy Cat.

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As I was going along, long, long, A singing a comical song, song, song, The lane that I went was so long, long, long, And the song that I sung was so long, long, long, And so I went singing along.

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Dance a baby diddit, What can a mother do with it, But sit in a lap, And give him some pap, Dance a baby diddit.

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Hush, baby, my doll, I pray you, don't cry, And I'll give you some bread, and some milk by-and-bye; Or perhaps you like custard, or, maybe, a tart, Then to either you are welcome, with all my heart.

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Jack Spratt's pig, He was not very little, Nor yet very big; He was not very lean, He was not very fat, He'll do well for a grunt, Says little Jack Sprat.