Hey, my kitten, my kitten,
  And hey my kitten my deary,
Such a sweet pet as this
  Was neither far nor neary.

Here we go up, up, up,
  And here we go down, down, downy,
Here we go backward and forward,
  And here we go round, round, roundy.

Where was a jewel and pretty,
  Where was a sugar and spicey? 
Hush a bye babe in the cradle,
  And we’ll go abroad in a tricey.

Did his papa torment it? 
  And vex his own baby will he? 
Give me a hand and I’ll beat him,
  With your red coral and whistle.

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,
    Says Tom Bolin.

Hark! hark! the dogs do bark,
  The beggars have come to town;
Some in rags, and some in tags,
  And some in velvet gowns.

Diddle diddle dumpling, my son John
Went to bed with his breeches on,
One stocking off, and one stocking on,
Diddle diddle dumpling, my son John.

As I was going to Derby upon a market day,
I met the finest ram, sir, that ever fed on hay,
         On hay, on hay, on hay,
I met the finest ram, sir, that ever fed on hay.

This ram was fat behind, sir; this ram was fat before;
This ram was ten yards round, sir; indeed he was not more. 
         No more, no more, no more;
This ram was ten yards round, sir; indeed he was no more.

The horns grew on his head, sir, they were so wondrous high,
As I’ve been plainly told, sir, they reached up to the sky. 
         The sky, the sky, the sky,
As I’ve been plainly told, sir, they reached up to the sky.

The tail grew on his back, sir, was six yards and an ell,
And it was sent to Derby to toll the market bell,
         The bell, the bell, the bell,
And it was sent to Derby to toll the market bell.

Hogs in the garden, catch ’em, Towser;
Cows in the corn-field, run boys, run,
Cats in the cream-pot, run girls, run girls;
Fire on the mountains, run boys, run.

The Cuckoo is a bonny bird,
  She sings as she flies,
She brings us good tidings,
  And tells us no lies.

She sucks little bird’s eggs
  To make her voice clear,
And never cries Cuckoo! 
  Till Spring of the year.

Lavender blue, and Rosemary green,
When I am king, you shall be queen,
Call up my maids at four of the clock,
Some to the wheel, and some to the rock,
Some to make hay, and some to shell corn,
And you and I shall keep the bed warm.

The lion and the Unicorn
  Were fighting for the crown—­
The lion beat the unicorn
  All about the town. 
Some gave them white bread,
  And some gave them brown,
Some gave them plum-cake,
  And sent them out of town.