Little Robin Red-breast
Sat upon a rail,
Niddle noddle went his head,
Wiggle waggle went his tail.

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?

Mary, Mary,
Quite contrary,
How does your garden grow!
Silver bells,
And cockle-shells,
And pretty maids all of a row.

Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,
Guard the bed that I lay on!
Four corners to my bed,
Four angels round my head!
One to watch, one to pray,
And two to bear my soul away!

Old mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard,
To give her poor dog a bone,
But when she came there,
The cupboard was bare,
And so the poor dog had none.

She went to the baker's
To buy him some bread,
And when she came back
The poor dog was dead.

She went to the joiner's
To buy him a coffin,
And when she came back
The poor dog was laughing.

She took a clean dish
To get him some tripe,
And when she came back
He was smoking his pipe.

She went to the alehouse
To get him some beer,
And when she came back
The dog sat in a chair.

She went to the tavern
For white wine and red,
And when she came back
The dog stood on his head.

She went to the hatter's
To buy him a hat,
And when she came back
He was feeding the cat.

She went to the barber's
To buy him a wig,
And when she came back
He was dancing a jig.

She went to the fruiterer's
To buy him some fruit,
And when she came back
He was playing the flute.

She went to the tailor's
To buy him a coat,
And when she came back
He was riding a goat.

She went to the cobbler's
To buy him some shoes,
And when she came back
He was reading the news.

She went to the sempstress
To buy him some linen,
And when she came back
The dog was spinning.

She went to the hosier's
To buy some hose,
And when she came back
He was dressed in his clothes.

The dame made a curtsey,
The dog made a bow,
The dame said, "Your servant,"
The dog said, "Bow, wow."

One, two, buckle my shoe;
Three, four, shut the door;
Five, six, pick up sticks;
Seven, eight, lay them straight;
Nine, ten, a good fat hen;
Eleven, twelve, who will delve?
Thirteen, fourteen, maids a courting;
Fifteen, sixteen, maids in the kitchen;
Seventeen, eighteen, maids a waiting;
Nineteen, twenty, I'm very empty;
Please, Mamma, give me some dinner.

One, two, three, four, five,
  1,      2,      3,       4,       5,
I caught a hare alive,
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten;
  6,      7,      8,       9,       10,
And let it go again.

One misty moisty morning,
When cloudy was the weather,
There I met an old man
Clothed all in leather;
Clothed all in leather,
With cap under his chin,
How do you do, and how do you do,
And how do you do again?

Pat a cake, pat a cake, baker's man,
So I will, master, as fast as I can;
Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with B.