Robert Barns, fellow fine,
  Can you shoe this horse of mine,
  So that I may cut a shine? 
    Yes, good sir, and that I can,
    As well as any other man;
There a nail, and here a prod,
And now, good sir, you horse is shod.

Hey ding a ding, ding, I heard a bird sing,
The parliament soldiers are gone to the king.

Pibroch of Donnel Dhu,
  Pibroch of Donnel,
Wake thy voice anew,
  Summon Clan-Connel. 
Come away, come away,
  Hark to the summons! 
Come in your war array,
  Gentles and commons!

      Come as the winds come,
          When forests are rended,
      Come as the waves come,
          When navies are stranded. 
Faster come, faster come, faster and faster,
      Chief, vassal, page and groom,
          Tenent and master.

      Fast they come, fast they come,
          See how they gather! 
Wide waves the eagle plume blended with heather. 
      Cast your plaids, draw your blades,
          Forward each man set! 
Pibroch of Donnel Dhu, now for the onset!

Jack Sprat could eat no fat;
  His wife could eat no lean;
So ’twixt them both they cleared the cloth,
  And lick’d the platter clean.

There was a little boy went into a barn,
  And lay down on some hay;
A calf came out and smelt about,
  And the little boy ran away.

  The sow came in with the saddle,
  The little pig rock’d the cradle,
  The dish jump’d up on the table
  To see the pot swallow the ladle. 
The spit that stood behind the door
Threw the pudding-stick on the floor. 
    Odsplut! said the gridiron,
        Can’t you agree? 
    I’m the head constable,
        Bring them to me.

Little Tommy Tucker,
  Sing for your supper: 
What shall I sing? 
  White bread and butter. 
How shall I cut it
  Without any knife? 
How shall I marry
  Without any wife?

I would, if I could; if I couldn’t, how could I? 
I couldn’t without I could, could I? 
Could you without you could, could ye? could ye? could ye? 
You couldn’t without you could, could ye?

Oh that I were where I would be! 
  Then should I be where I am not;
But where I am, there I must be,
  And where I would be I can not.

        Hiccory, diccory, dock,
    The mouse run up the clock;
The clock struck one, and down he run,
        Hiccory, diccory, dock.

Jacky, come give me your fiddle,
  If ever you mean to thrive. 
Nay, I’ll not give my fiddle
  To any man alive.

If I should give you my fiddle,
  They’ll think that I’m gone mad,
For many a joyful day
  My fiddle and I have had.

There was a Piper had a Cow,
  And he had naught to give her,
He pull’d out his pipes and play’d her a tune,
  And bade the cow consider.