WILLY boy, Willy boy, where are you going? 
I’ll go with you, if I may. 
“I’m going to the meadow to see them a mowing;
I’m going to help them, make hay.”

THE girl in the lane, that couldn’t speak plain,
Cried, “Gobble, gobble, gobble.” 
The man on the hill, that couldn’t stand still,
Went hobble, hobble, hobble.

HINK, minx! the old witch winks,
The fat begins to fry: 
There’s nobody at home but little jumping Joan,
Father, mother, and I.

HANNAH BANTRY in the pantry,
Eating a mutton bone;
How she gnawed it, how she clawed it,
When she found she was alone!

LITTLE Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating of curds and whey;
There came a spider,
And sat down beside her,
And frightened Miss Muffet away.

WHAT are little boys made of, made of;
What are little boys made of? 
“Snaps and snails, and puppy-dogs’ tails;
And that’s what little boys are made of, made of.”

What are little girls made of, made of, made of;
What are little girls made of? 
“Sugar and spice, and all that’s nice;
And that’s what little girls are made of, made of.”

WHAT’S the news of the day,
Good neighbour, I pray? 
“They say the balloon
Is gone up to the moon.”

KING’S SUTTON is a pretty town,
And lies all in a valley;
There is a pretty ring of bells,
Besides a bowling-alley: 
Wine and liquor in good store,
Pretty maidens plenty;
Can a man desire more? 
There ain’t such a town in twenty.

COME, let’s to bed,
Says Sleepy-head;
“Tarry a while,” says Slow;
“Put on the pot,”
Says Greedy-gut,
“Let’s sup before we go.”

Girls and boys, come out to play;
The moon doth shine as bright as day;
Leave your supper, and leave your sleep,
And come with your playfellows into the street. 
Come with a whoop, come with a call,
Come with a good will or not at all. 
Up the ladder and down the wall,
A halfpenny roll will serve us all. 
You find milk, and I’ll find flour,
And we’ll have a pudding in half-an-hour.

HOW many days has my baby to play? 
Saturday, Sunday, Monday,
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday,
Saturday, Sunday, Monday.

AROUND the green gravel the grass grows green,
And all the pretty maids are plain to be seen;
Wash them with milk, and clothe them with silk,
And write their names with a pen and ink.

AS I was going to sell my eggs,
I met a man with bandy legs,
Bandy legs and crooked toes;
I tripped up his heels, and he fell on his nose.

MY little old man and I fell out;
I’ll tell you what ’twas all about: 
I had money, and he had none,
And that’s the way the row begun.

DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY has come up to town
In a yellow petticoat and a green gown.

          DARBY and Joan were dress’d in black,
          Sword and buckle behind their back;
          Foot for foot, and knee for knee,
          Turn about Darby’s company.

          IF all the seas were one sea,
          What a great sea that would be! 
          And if all the trees were one tree,
          What a great tree that would be! 
          And if all the axes were one axe,
          What a great axe that would be! 
          And if all the men were one man,
          What a great man he would be! 
          And if the great man took the great axe,
          And cut down the great tree,
          And let it fall into the great sea,
          What a splish splash that would be!

          RAIN, rain, go away;
          Come again another day;
          Little Arthur wants to play.

          BARBER, barber, shave a pig;
          How many hairs will make a wig? 
          “Four-and-twenty, that’s enough:” 
          Give the barber a pinch of snuff.

          LITTLE Tom Tucker
          Sings for his supper;
          What shall he eat? 
          White bread and butter. 
          How shall he cut it,
          Without e’er a knife? 
          How will he be married
          Without e’er a wife?

WHO comes here? 
“A grenadier.” 
“What do you want?”
“A pot of beer.” 
“Where is your money?”
“I’ve forgot.” 
“Get you gone,
You drunken sot!”

TO market, to market, to buy a plum-cake;
Back again, back again, baby is late;
To market, to market, to buy a plum-bun,
Back again, back again, market is done.

          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 send us some hot in the morn.

A MAN went a hunting at Reigate,
And wished to leap over a high gate;
Says the owner, “Go round,
With your gun and your hound,
For you never shall leap over my gate.”

THERE was a little nobby colt,
His name was Nobby Gray;
His head was made of pouce straw,
His tail was made of hay. 
He could ramble, he could trot,
He could carry a mustard-pot,
Round the town of Woodstock,
Hey, Jenny, hey!

WE’RE all in the dumps,
For diamonds are trumps;
The kittens are gone to St. Paul’s! 
The babies are bit,
The moon’s in a fit,
And the houses are built without walls.