Little Songs | Page 4

barn door creaking,?The brook is babbling,?The geese are gabbling?Mercy on us, what a noise!
The sheep are ba-a-ing,?The boys ha-ha-ing,?The swallows twittering,?The girls are tittering,?Father is calling,?The cook is bawling;?I'm nigh crazy with the noise.
Nabby is churning,?The grindstone's turning,?John is sawing,?Charles hurrahing,?Old Dobson's preaching,?The peacock's screeching;?Who can live in such a noise!
FROLIC IN THE SNOW.
"See the snow! see the snow!?Hear the winter wind blow;?Make the fire burn bright;?Shut the doors up tight;?Let it storm, let it storm;?My Willy shall be warm."
"Dear mother, let me go?And frolic in the snow;?Tis so soft and so light,?So beautiful and white,?'Twill not hurt me I know;?Let me go, let me go."
"I don't mind the cold;?I am three years old;?Look at little Rover;?He is powdered all over:?Let me go, let me go,?And frolic in the snow."
"I can do what Rover can;?I am your little man;?Let it storm, let it storm;?I don't want to be warm;?Dear mother, let me go,?And frolic in the snow."
SWING SWONG.
Swing swong,?Here we go;?Sing a song,?Hurrah ho!
Swing swong,?Here we go;?Hold in strong,?Hurrah ho!
Swing swong,?Here we go;?Fly along,?Hurrah ho!
WORK AND PLAY.
Come let us take a walk,--?The rain has gone away,--?And have some pleasant talk,?And laugh, and sing, and play.
The old hen dries her wings,?The young lambs frisk away?The merry sparrow sings;?Come let us go and play.
The brook runs gayly on?As though it were in play,?And says to every one,?"Let's have some fun to-day."
The little busy bee?Doth sing and work all day,?And teaches you and me?To work as well as play.
The world is full of flowers;?Put up your work, I say;?Let's use these limbs of ours?And have some real play.
LITTLE MARY.
Little Mary was good;?The weather was fair;?She went with her mother?To taste the fresh air.
The birds they were singing;?Mary chatted away;?And she was as happy?And merry as they.
IT CAN'T BE SO.
A boy once went the world around,?Till he a golden castle found;?Then laughed the boy,?Then thought the boy,?"O, were that golden castle mine,?How brightly then my house would shine!"?O, no! O, no! O, no!?My little boy, it can't be so.
Again he went the world around,?Till he a flying pony found;?Then laughed the boy,?Then thought the boy,?"O, were that flying pony mine,?Then I should be a horseman fine."?O, no! O, no! O, no!?My little boy, it can't be so.
WHEN EVENING IS COME.
When evening is come,?And father's at home,?Mother says that we may?Have a go-to-bed play.?A book he will bring us,?A song he will sing us,?A story he'll tell us,?He'll make believe sell us.?And we will cut papers,?And all sorts of capers,?And laugh, dance, and play,?And frolic away,?When evening is come,?And father's at home.
RINGELY RINGELY.
Ringely ringely dah-re-roon,?My baby has slept till almost noon,?Ringely ringely dah-re-roon,?My baby shall have his breakfast soon.
Ringely ringely dah-re-roon,?Here is his milk and here is his spoon,?Ringely ringely dah-re-roon,?He'll be a month older when comes next moon.
CHARLIE BOY.
O, look at my hat;?How nicely it suits!?O, look at my feet;?I've got on new boots!
Hurrah! for Charlie boy.
My boots they are stiff,?My boots they are tall,?And they hold me up straight,?So I cannot fall.
Hurrah! for Charlie boy.
I'll do mother's errands?As well as I can;?I've got on new boots,?And so I'm a man.
Hurrah! for Charlie boy.
THE BABY'S BIRTHDAY.
Come, Charles, blow the trumpet,?And George, beat the drum,?For this is the baby's birthday!?Little Annie shall sing,?And Jemmy shall dance,?And father the jews-harp will play.?Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te?Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.
Come toss up the ball,?And spin the hum top;?We'll have a grand frolic to-day;?Let's make some soap bubbles,?And blow them up high,?And see what the baby will say.?Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te?Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.
We'll play the grand Mufti;?Let's all make a ring;?The tallest the Mufti shall play;?You must look in his face,?And see what he does,?And mind what the Mufti shall say.?Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te?Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.
And now we'll play soldiers;?All hold up your heads!?Don't you know 'tis the baby's birthday?You must turn out your toes,?And toss your feet high;?There! this, boys and girls, is the way.?Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te?Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.
THE POOR MAN.
The poor man is old,?He is hungry and cold,?Let us give him some bread to eat;?Let him come to the fire,?Let us build it up higher,?Let us give the poor man a warm seat.
The poor man is weak;?How pale is his cheek!?Perhaps he has met with some sorrow;?Let us give him a bed,?Where his poor weary head?May rest, and feel better to-morrow.
DING DONG! DING DONG!
Ding dong! ding dong!?I'll sing you a song;?'Tis about a little bird;
He sat upon a tree,?And he sang to me,?And I never spoke a word.
Ding dong! ding dong!?I'll sing you a song;?'Tis about a little mouse;?He looked very cunning,?As I saw him running?About my father's house.
Ding dong! ding dong!?I'll sing you a song?About my little Kitty;?She's speckled all over,?And I know you'll love her,?For she is very pretty.
Ding dong! ding dong!?I have sung my song;?Now give