"Margery Brown, on the top of the hill,

Why are you standing, idle still?"

"Oh, I'm looking over to London town;

Shall I see the horsemen if I go down?"

"Margery Brown, on the top of the hill,

Why are you standing, listening still?"

"Oh, I hear the bells of London ring,

And I hear the men and the maidens sing."

"Margery Brown, on the top of the hill,

Why are you standing, waiting still?"

"Oh, a knight is there, but I can't go down,

For the bells ring strangely in London town."

Little wind, blow on the hill-top,

Little wind, blow down the plain;

Little wind, blow up the sunshine,

Little wind, blow off the rain.

"Little Polly, will you go a-walking to-day?"

"Indeed, little Susan, I will, if I may."

"Little Polly, your mother has said you may go;

She was nice to say 'Yes;' she should never say 'No.'"

"A rook has a nest on the top of the tree—

A big ship is coming from over the sea:

Now, which would be nicest, the ship or the nest?"

"Why, that would be nicest that Polly likes best."

As I was walking up the street,

The steeple bells were ringing;

As I sat down at Mary's feet,

The sweet, sweet birds were singing.

As I walked far into the world,

I met a little fairy;

She plucked this flower, and, as it's sweet,

I've brought it home to Mary.

Five little sisters walking in a row;

Now, isn't that the best way for little girls to go?

Each had a round hat, each had a muff,

And each had a new pelisse of soft green stuff.

Five little marigolds standing in a row;

Now, isn't that the best way for marigolds to grow?

Each with a green stalk, and all the five had got

A bright yellow flower, and a new red pot.

In go-cart so tiny

My sister I drew;

And I've promised to draw her

The wide world through.

We have not yet started—

I own it with sorrow—

Because our trip's always

Put off till to-morrow.

Some geese went out a-walking,

To breakfast and to dine;

They craned their necks, and plumed themselves—

They numbered four from nine;

With their cackle, cackle, cackle!

They thought themselves so fine.

A dame went walking by herself,

A very ancient crone;

She said, "I wish that all you geese

Were starved to skin and bone!

Do stop that cackle, cackle, now,

And leave me here alone."