All of a row, bend the bow;
Shot at a pigeon and killed a crow.

You shall have a fish, in a little dish,
You shall have a fish, when the boat comes in.

Robin and Richard were two pretty men,
They laid in bed till the clock struck ten;
Then up starts Robin, and looks in the sky,
“Oh, brother Richard, the sun’s very high! 
The bull’s in the barn threshing the corn;
The cocks on the hayrick blowing his horn.”

The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts,
     All on a summer’s day;
The knave of Hearts, he stole the tarts,
     And took them clean away.

Sing a song of sixpence, a bag full of Rye,
Four-and-twenty Blackbirds baked in a Pie;
When the Pie was opened, the Birds began to sing,
Was not that a dainty dish to set before a King?

Young lambs to sell, young lambs to sell;
If I had as much money as I could tell,
I never would cry, young lambs to sell. 
Young lambs to sell, young lambs to sell,
I never would cry, young lambs to sell.

Ding, dong, bell; Pussy’s in the well. 
Who put her in?  Little Tommy Green. 
Who pulled her out?  Little Tommy Trout. 
What a naughty boy was that,
To drown poor Pussy Cat.

Polly, put the kettle on,
Polly, put the kettle on,
Polly, put the kettle on,
     And let’s drink tea. 
Sukey, take it off again,
Sukey, take it off again,
Sukey, take it off again,
     They’re all gone away.

Pussy-cat, Pussy-cat where have you been? 
I’ve been to London to look at the Queen. 
Pussy-cat, Pussy-cat, what did you there? 
I frightened a little mouse under a chair.

Blow, wind blow—­
And go, mill, go—­
That the miller
May grind his corn;
That the baker may take it,
And into rolls make it,
And bring us some hot in the morn.

Mary had a pretty bird,
Feathers bright and yellow,
Slender legs upon my word
He was a pretty fellow. 
The sweetest notes he always sung,
Which much delighted Mary;
And near the cage she’d often sit
To hear her own canary.

Tom, he was a piper’s son. 
He learned to play when he was young. 
But all the tunes that he could play,
Was “Over the hills and far away.” 
Tom with his pipe did play with such skill,
That those who heard him could never keep still;
Whenever they heard him they began to dance,
Even pigs on their hind legs would after him prance.

I saw a ship a-sailing,
A-sailing on the sea
And, oh! it was all laden
With pretty things for thee. 
There were comfits in the cabin
And apples in the hold,
The sails were made of silk,
The masts were made of gold.

What’s the news of the day, good neighbour, I pray? 
They say the balloon is gone up to the moon.