Come and play in the Garden.
Reading edition
Little sister, come away,
And let us in the garden play,
For it is a pleasant day.
On the grass-plat let us sit,
Or, if you please, we’ll play a bit.
And run about all over it.
But the fruit we will not pick,
For that would be a naughty trick,
And, very likely, make us sick.
Nor will we pluck the pretty flow’rs
That grow about the beds and bow’rs,
Because, you know, they are not ours.
We’ll pluck the daisies white and red,
Because mamma has often said,
That we may gather them instead.
And much I hope we always may
Our very dear mamma obey,
And mind whatever she may say.