The Nursery Rhyme Book. Lang Andrew

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу The Nursery Rhyme Book - Lang Andrew страница 6

The Nursery Rhyme Book - Lang Andrew

Скачать книгу

the floor,

      And drove the chimney soot in.

      And then one night when it was dark,

      She blew up such a tiny spark,

      That all the house was pothered:

      From it she raised up such a flame,

      As flamed away to Belting Lane,

      And White Cross folks were smothered.

      And thus when once, my little dears,

      A whisper reaches itching ears,

      The same will come, you'll find:

      Take my advice, restrain the tongue,

      Remember what old nurse has sung

      Of busy lady Wind.

      PUNCH and Judy

      Fought for a pie;

      Punch gave Judy

      A sad blow on the eye.

      TAFFY was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief;

      Taffy came to my house and stole a piece of beef:

      I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was not at home;

      Taffy came to my house and stole a marrow-bone.

      I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was not in;

      Taffy came to my house and stole a silver pin:

      I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was in bed,

      I took up a poker and flung it at his head.

      LITTLE Tommy Tittlemouse

      Lived in a little house;

      He caught fishes

      In other men's ditches.

      LITTLE Jack Horner sat in a corner,

      Eating a Christmas pie;

      He put in his thumb, and he pulled out a plum,

      And said, "What a good boy am I!"

      SOLOMON GRUNDY,

      Born on a Monday,

      Christened on Tuesday,

      Married on Wednesday,

      Took ill on Thursday,

      Worse on Friday,

      Died on Saturday,

      Buried on Sunday:

      This is the end

      Of Solomon Grundy.

      IV. Proverbs

      TO make your candles last for a',

      You wives and maids give ear-o!

      To put 'em out's the only way,

      Says honest John Boldero.

      ST. SWITHIN's day, if thou dost rain,

      For forty days it will remain:

      St. Swithin's day, if thou be fair,

      For forty days 'twill rain na mair.

      IF wishes were horses,

      Beggars would ride;

      If turnips were watches,

      I would wear one by my side.

      NATURE requires five,

      Custom gives seven!

      Laziness takes nine,

      And Wickedness eleven.      [Hours of Sleep.

      SEE a pin and pick it up,

      All the day you'll have good luck;

      See a pin and let it lay,

      Bad luck you'll have all the day!

      NEEDLES and pins, needles and pins.

      When a man marries his trouble begins.

      BOUNCE buckram, velvet's dear;

      Christmas comes but once a year.

      A MAN of words and not of deeds,

      Is like a garden full of weeds;

      And when the weeds begin to grow,

      It's like a garden full of snow;

      And when the snow begins to fall,

      It's like a bird upon the wall;

      And when the bird away does fly,

      It's like an eagle in the sky;

      And when the sky begins to roar,

      It's like a lion at the door;

      And when the door begins to crack,

      It's like a stick across your back;

      And when your back begins to smart,

      It's like a penknife in your heart;

      And when your heart begins to bleed,

      You're dead, and dead, and dead, indeed.

      IF you sneeze on Monday, you sneeze for danger;

      Sneeze on a Tuesday, kiss a stranger;

      Sneeze on a Wednesday, sneeze for a letter;

      Sneeze on a Thursday, something better;

      Sneeze on a Friday, sneeze for sorrow;

      Sneeze on a Saturday, see your sweetheart to-morrow.

      WHEN the wind is in the east,

      'Tis neither good for man nor beast;

      When the wind is in the north,

      The skilful fisher goes not forth;

      When the wind is in the south,

      It blows the bait in the fishes' mouth;

      When the wind is in the west,

      Then 'tis at the very best.

      HE that would thrive

      Must rise at five;

      He that hath thriven

      May lie till seven;

      And he that by the plough would thrive,

      Himself must either hold or drive.

      A SWARM of bees in May

      Is worth a load of hay;

      A swarm of bees in June

      Is worth a silver spoon;

      A swarm of bees in July

      Is not worth a fly.

      Is not worth a fly.

      YEOW mussent sing a' Sunday,

      Becaze it is a sin,

      But yeow may sing a' Monday

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона,

Скачать книгу