Part 2 — FIRST YEAR

Hark, hark, The dogs do bark, The beggars are coming to town; Some in tags, Some in rags, And some in velvet gowns.

Pease porridge hot, Pease porridge cold, Pease porridge in the pot, nine days old. Some like it hot, Some like it cold, Some like it in the pot, nine days old.

"Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?" "I've been to London to look at the Queen." "Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there?" "I frightened a little mouse under a chair."

Three mice went into a hole to spin; Puss passed by and Puss looked in: "What are you doing, my little men?" "Weaving coats for gentlemen." "Please let me help you to wind off your threads." "Ah, no, Mistress Pussy, you'd bite off our heads."

Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn, The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn. Where's the boy that looks after the sheep? He's under the haycock, fast asleep. "Will you wake him?" "No, not I; For if I do, he'll be sure to cry."

Sleep, baby, sleep! Our cottage vale is deep: The little lamb is on the green, With snowy fleece so soft and clean. Sleep, baby, sleep! Sleep, baby, sleep! Thy rest shall angels keep: While on the grass the lamb shall feed, And never suffer want or need. Sleep, baby, sleep!

Hush thee, my babby, Lie still with thy daddy, Thy mammy has gone to the mill, To grind thee some wheat To get thee some meat, And so, my dear babby, lie still.

Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town, Upstairs and downstairs, in his nightgown, Rapping at the window, crying through the lock, "Are the children in their beds? now it's eight o'clock."

Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep, And can't tell where to find them; Leave them alone and they'll come home, And bring their tails behind them. Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep, And dreamt she heard them bleating; But when she awoke she found it a joke, For still they all were fleeting. Then up she took her little crook, Determined for to find them; She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed, For they'd left all their tails behind 'em. —Mother Goose.

I saw a ship a-sailing, A-sailing on the sea; And, oh! it was all laden With pretty things for thee. There were comfits in the cabin, And apples in the hold; The sails were made of silk, And the masts were made of gold. The four-and-twenty sailors That stood between the decks Were four-and-twenty white mice, With chains about their necks. The captain was a duck, With a packet on his back; And when the ship began to move, The captain said, "Quack! quack!" —Mother Goose.

The world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.

The rain is raining all around, It falls on field and tree, It rains on the umbrellas here, And on the ships at sea.

Of speckled eggs the birdie sings And nests among the trees; The sailor sings of ropes and things In ships upon the seas. The children sing in far Japan, The children sing in Spain; The organ with the organ man Is singing in the rain. —Robert Louis Stevenson.

Boats sail on the rivers, And ships sail on the seas; But clouds that sail across the sky Are prettier far than these. There are bridges on the rivers, As pretty as you please; But the bow that bridges heaven And overtops the trees, And builds a road from earth to sky, Is prettier far than these. —Christina G. Rossetti.

Who has seen the wind? Neither I nor you; But when the leaves hang trembling The wind is passing through. Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I; But when the trees bow down their heads The wind is passing by. —Christina G. Rossetti.

The friendly cow all red and white I love with all my heart; She gives me milk with all her might, To eat with apple tart. She wanders lowing here and there, And yet she cannot stray, All in the pleasant open air, The pleasant light of day. And blown by all the winds that pass, And wet with all the showers, She walks among the meadow grass And eats the meadow flowers. —Robert Louis Stevenson.

Whenever the moon and stars are set, Whenever the wind is high, All night long in the dark and wet, A man goes riding by. Late in the night when the fires are out, Why does he gallop and gallop about? Whenever the trees are crying aloud, And ships are tossed at sea, By, on the highway, low and loud, By at the gallop goes he. By at the gallop he goes, and then By he comes back at the gallop again. —Robert Louis Stevenson.

In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle light; In summer, quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day. I have to go to bed and see The birds still hopping on the tree; Or hear the grown-up people's feet Still going past me in the street. And does it not seem hard to you, When all the sky is clear and blue, And I should like so much to play, To have to go to bed by day? —Robert Louis Stevenson.

What does little birdie say, In her nest at peep of day? Let me fly, says little birdie, Mother, let me fly away. Birdie, rest a little longer, Till the little wings are stronger. So she rests a little longer, Then she flies away. What does little baby say, In her bed at peep of day? Baby says, like little birdie, Let me rise and fly away. Baby, sleep a little longer, Till the little limbs are stronger. If she sleeps a little longer, Baby too shall fly away. —Alfred Lord Tennyson.

Sleep, baby, sleep. Thy father is tending the sheep: Thy mother is shaking the dreamland tree, And down comes a little dream on thee. Sleep, baby, sleep. Sleep, baby, sleep. The large stars are the sheep: The little stars are the lambs, I guess, And the bright moon is the shepherdess. Sleep, baby, sleep. Sleep, baby, sleep. Our Saviour loves His sheep: He is the Lamb of God on high, Who for our sakes came down to die. Sleep, baby, sleep. —From the German by Caroline Southey.