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."
Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace, Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for its living, But the child that's born on the Sabbath day Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
What are little boys made of, made of? What are little boys made of? "Snaps and snails, and puppy-dogs' tails; And that's what little boys are made of."
What are little girls made of, made of? What are little girls made of? "Sugar and spice, and all that's nice; And that's what little girls are made of."
'Twas once upon a time, when Jenny Wren was young, So daintily she danced and so prettily she sung, Robin Redbreast lost his heart, for he was a gallant bird. So he doffed his hat to Jenny Wren, requesting to be heard.
"Oh, dearest Jenny Wren, if you will but be mine, You shall feed on cherry pie and drink new currant wine, I'll dress you like a goldfinch or any peacock gay, So, dearest Jen, if you'll be mine, let us appoint the day."
Jenny blushed behind her fan and thus declared her mind: "Since, dearest Bob, I love you well, I'll take your offer kind. Cherry pie is very nice and so is currant wine, But I must wear my plain brown gown and never go too fine."
"Where are you going, my pretty maid?" "I'm going a-milking, sir," she said. "May I go with you, my pretty maid?" "You're kindly welcome, sir," she said. "What is your father, my pretty maid?" "My father's a farmer, sir," she said. "What is your fortune, my pretty maid?" "My face is my fortune, sir," she said. "Then I can't marry you, my pretty maid." "Nobody asked you, sir," she said.
"Whistle, daughter, whistle; Whistle, daughter dear." "I cannot whistle, mammy, I cannot whistle clear." "Whistle, daughter, whistle; Whistle for a pound." "I cannot whistle, mammy, I cannot make a sound."
"Willy boy, Willy boy, where are you going? I will go with you, if that I may." "I'm going to the meadow to see them a-mowing, I'm going to help them to make the hay."
There dwelt an old woman at Exeter; When visitors came it sore vexed her, So for fear they should eat, She locked up all her meat, This stingy old woman of Exeter.
If I'd as much money as I could tell, I never would cry young lambs to sell; Young lambs to sell, young lambs to sell; I never would cry young lambs to sell.
Wee Willie Winkie, What Are Little Boys Made Of, A Walnut, Wee Willie Winkie, A Week of Birthdays, A Well, What Do I See, When Jenny Wren was Young, When The Snow is On The Ground, Wee Willie Winkie, Where Are You Going, When, Whistle, Why I Love Johnny, Willy Boy, Willy Willy, Winter, Wee Willie Winkie, Winters Day, The Woman of Exetor, The Winds,
