The Real Mother Goose eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 48 pages of information about The Real Mother Goose.

COME OUT TO PLAY

Girls and boys, come out to play,
The moon doth shine as bright as day;
Leave your supper, and leave your sleep,
And come with your playfellows into the street. 
Come with a whoop, come with a call,
Come with a good will or not at all. 
Up the ladder and down the wall,
A half-penny roll will serve us all. 
You find milk, and I’ll find flour,
And we’ll have a pudding in half an hour.

IF WISHES WERE HORSES

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. 
If turnips were watches, I would wear one by my side. 
    And if “ifs” and “ands”
    Were pots and pans,
There’d be no work for tinkers!

TO MARKET

To market, to market, to buy a fat pig. 
Home again, home again, jiggety jig. 
To market, to market, to buy a fat hog,
Home again, home again, jiggety jog. 
To market, to market, to buy a plum bun,
Home again, home again, market is done.

OLD CHAIRS TO MEND

If I’d as much money as I could spend,
I never would cry old chairs to mend;
Old chairs to mend, old chairs to mend;
I never would cry old chairs to mend.

If I’d as much money as I could tell,
I never would cry old clothes to sell;
Old clothes to sell, old clothes to sell;
I never would cry old clothes to sell.

ROBIN AND RICHARD

Robin and Richard were two pretty men,
They lay in bed till the clock struck ten;
Then up starts Robin and looks at the sky,
“Oh, brother Richard, the sun’s very high! 
You go before, with the bottle and bag,
And I will come after on little Jack Nag.”

A MAN AND A MAID

    There was a little man,
    Who wooed a little maid,
And he said, “Little maid, will you wed, wed, wed? 
    I have little more to say,
    So will you, yea or nay,
For least said is soonest mended-ded, ded, ded.”

    The little maid replied,
    “Should I be your little bride,
Pray what must we have for to eat, eat, eat? 
    Will the flame that you’re so rich in
    Light a fire in the kitchen? 
Or the little god of love turn the spit, spit, spit?”

HERE GOES MY LORD

      Here goes my lord
A trot, a trot, a trot, a trot,
      Here goes my lady
A canter, a canter, a canter, a canter!

      Here goes my young master
Jockey-hitch, jockey-hitch, jockey-hitch, jockey-hitch! 
      Here goes my young miss
An amble, an amble, an amble, an amble!

The footman lags behind to tipple ale and wine,
And goes gallop, a gallop, a gallop, to make up his time.

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
The Real Mother Goose from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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