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قراءة كتاب Traditional Nursery Songs of England With Pictures by Eminent Modern Artists
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Traditional Nursery Songs of England With Pictures by Eminent Modern Artists
The Home Treasury.
TRADITIONAL NURSERY SONGS
of
ENGLAND.
with
PICTURES BY EMINENT MODERN ARTISTS.
EDITED BY
FELIX SUMMERLY.
LONDON: JOSEPH CUNDALL, 12, OLD BOND STREET.
1843
The Copyright of these Works is registered pursuant to Statute 5 and 6 Vic. c. 45.
PREFACE.
So my dear Madam, you think Nursery Songs mere trash, not worth utterance or remembrance, and beneath the dignity of the "march of mind" of our days! I would bow to your judgment, but you always talk so loud in the midst of a song; look grave at a joke—and the leaves of that copy of Wordsworth's Poems, presented to you on your birthday—I will not say how many years ago, still remain uncut. Facts like these, and others constantly occurring, prove that your ear cannot relish melody; and that poetry does not touch your feelings. Besides, you are still unmarried, and you say, I record it with regret, "you hate children." Doubtless you were never born a child yourself.
It is to mothers, sisters, kind-hearted aunts, and even fathers, who are summoned to become unwilling vocalists at break of day by young gentlemen and ladies of two years old; and to all having the charge of children, who are alive to the importance of cultivating their natural keenness for rhyme, rhythm, melody, and instinctive love for fun, that I offer this first part of a collection of Traditional Nursery Songs. This Collection has been in progress for more than ten years, and it is now published, after a revision, with all the editions by Ritson, and others, that I have been able to meet with.
The Pictures, though made especially for the benefit of my young audience, will not, I feel pretty sure, be uninteresting to more advanced connoisseurs. I am not at liberty to mention the names of the artists who in their kind sympathies for children have obliged me with them. It is a mystery to be unravelled by the little people themselves, who, as they advance in a knowledge and love of beauty, will not fail to recognize in the works of some of the best of our painters of familiar life, the pencils of those who gave them early lessons in genuine art.
TRADITIONAL NURSERY SONGS.
A diller, a dollar,
A ten o'clock scholar,
What makes you come so soon?
You used to come at ten o'clock,
And now you come at noon.
A long tailed pig, or a short tailed pig,
Or a pig without a tail,
A sow pig, or a boar pig,
Or a pig with a curly tail.
As I was going up Pippen hill,
Pippen hill was dirty;
There I met a pretty Miss,
And she dropt me a curtsey.
Little Miss, pretty Miss,
Blessings light upon you,
If I had half a crown a day,
I'd spend it all upon you.
Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool?
Yes, marry, have I, three bags full;
One for my master, and one for my dame,
And one for the little boy that lives in the lane.
Bless you, bless you, bonnie bee:
Say, when will your wedding be?
If it be to-morrow day,
Take your wings and fly away.
Bonnie lass! bonnie lass! wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt neither wash dishes nor serve the swine,
But sit on a cushion and sow up a seam,
And thou shalt have strawberries, sugar, and cream.
BYE. O MY BABY
Bye baby bunting,
Father's gone a hunting,
To get a little rabbit-skin,
To lap his little baby in.
Bye, O my baby,
When I was a lady,
Oh then my poor babe didn't cry;
But my baby is weeping,
For want of good keeping,
Oh! I fear my poor baby will die.
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
My dame has lost her shoe,
Master's broke his fiddle-stick,
And don't know what to do.
Cold and raw the north wind doth blow,
Bleak in the morning early;
All the hills are covered with snow,
And winter's now come fairly.
"Come, let's to bed," says Sleepy-head,
"Let's stay awhile," says Slow,
"Put on the pot," says Greedy-gut,
"We'll sup before we go."
Cross Patch, draw the latch,
Sit by the fire and spin;
Take a cup, and drink it up,
And call your neighbours in.
Cushy Cow bonny, let down thy milk,
And I will give thee a gown of silk!
A gown of silk and a silver tee,
If thou will let down thy milk to me.
Daffy-down-dilly has come up to town,
In a yellow petticoat, and a green gown.
"COME, LET'S GO TO BED," SAYS SLEEPY-HEAD,
"LET'S STAY AWHILE," SAYS SLOW,
"PUT ON THE POT," SAYS GREEDY-GUT,
"WE'LL SUP BEFORE WE GO."