The Nursery Rhymes of England - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Bye, O my baby!
When I was a lady, O then my poor baby did'nt cry!
But my baby is weeping, For want of good keeping, Oh, I fear my poor baby will die!
CCCXCIII.
Hush-a-bye, a ba lamb, Hush-a-bye a milk cow, You shall have a little stick To beat the naughty bow-wow.
CCCXCIV.
Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree top, When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, When the bough bends, the cradle will fall, Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all.
CCCXCV.
Ride, baby, ride, Pretty baby shall ride, And have a little puppy-dog tied to her side, And little p.u.s.s.y-cat tied to the other, And away she shall ride to see her grandmother, To see her grandmother, To see her grandmother.
CCCXCVI.
Bye, baby bunting, Daddy's gone a hunting, To get a little hare's skin To wrap a baby bunting in.
CCCXCVII.
Give me a blow, and I'll beat 'em, Why did they vex my baby?
Kissy, kiss, kissy, my honey, And cuddle your nurse, my deary.
CCCXCVIII.
My dear c.o.c.kadoodle, my jewel, my joy, My darling, my honey, my pretty sweet boy; Before I do rock thee with soft lullaby, Give me thy dear lips to be kiss'd, kiss'd, kiss'd.
CCCXCIX.
[A favourite lullaby in the north of England fifty years ago, and perhaps still heard. The last word is p.r.o.nounced _bee_.]
Hush-a-bye, lie still and sleep, It grieves me sore to see thee weep, For when thou weep'st thou wearies me, Hush-a-bye, lie still and _bye_.
CCCC.
[From _Yorks.h.i.+re_ and _Ess.e.x_. A nursery-cry.--It is also sometimes sung in the streets by boys who have small figures of wool, wood, or gypsum, &c. of lambs to sell.]
Young Lambs to sell!
Young Lambs to sell!
If I'd as much money as I can tell, I never would cry--Young Lambs to sell!
CCCCI.
[From _Yorks.h.i.+re_. A nursery-cry.]
Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit-Pie!
Come, my ladies, come and buy; Else your babies they will cry.
CCCCII.
To market, to market, To buy a plum cake; Home again, home again, Ne'er a one baked; The baker is dead and all his men, And we must go to market again.
CCCCIII.
Rock well my cradle, And "bee baa," my son; You shall have a new gown, When ye lord comes home.
Oh! still my child, Orange, Still him with a bell; I can't still him, ladie, Till you come down yoursell!
CCCCIV.
Where was a sugar and fretty?
And where was jewel and spicy?
Hush-a-bye, babe in a cradle, And we'll go away in a tricy!
CCCCV.
I'll buy you a tartan bonnet, And some feathers to put on it, Tartan trews and a phillibeg, Because you are so like your daddy.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
[Ill.u.s.tration]
THIRTEENTH CLa.s.s--JINGLES.
CCCCVI.
[The first line of the following is the burden of a song in the 'Tempest,' act i, sc. 2. and also of one in the 'Merchant of Venice, act iii, sc. 2.]
Ding dong bell, p.u.s.s.y's in the well!
Who put her in?-- Little Tommy Lin.
Who pulled her out?-- Dog with long snout.
