Hush thee, my babby, Lie still with thy daddy, Thy mammy has gone to the mill, To grind thee some wheat, To make thee some meat, And so, my dear babby, lie still. CCCLXXXVIII. Hey, my kitten, my kitten, And hey, my kitten, my deary! Such a sweet pet as this Was neither far nor neary. Here we go up, up, up, And here we go down, down, downy; And here we go backwards and forwards, And here we go round, round, roundy. CCCLXXXIX. I won't be my father's Jack, I won't be my mother's Gill, I will be the fiddler's wife, And have music when I will. T'other little tune, T'other little tune, Pr'ythee, love, play me T'other little tune. CCCXC. Danty baby diddy, What can a mammy do wid'e, But sit in a lap, And give 'un a pap? Sing danty baby diddy. CCCXCI. Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green; Father's a nobleman, mother's a queen; And Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring; And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the king. CCCXCII. Bye, O my baby! When I was a lady, O then my poor baby did'nt cry! But my baby is weeping, For want of good keeping, Oh, I fear my poor baby will die! CCCXCIII. Hush-a-bye, a ba lamb, Hush-a-bye a milk cow, You shall have a little stick To beat the naughty bow-wow. CCCXCIV. Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree top, When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, When the bough bends, the cradle will fall, Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all. CCCXCV. Ride, baby, ride, Pretty baby shall ride, And have a little puppy-dog tied to her side, And little pussy-cat tied to the other, And away she shall ride to see her grandmother, To see her grandmother, To see her grandmother. CCCXCVI. Bye, baby bunting, Daddy's gone a hunting, To get a little hare's skin To wrap a baby bunting in. CCCXCVII. Give me a blow, and I'll beat 'em, Why did they vex my baby? Kissy, kiss, kissy, my honey, And cuddle your nurse, my deary. CCCXCVIII. My dear cockadoodle, my jewel, my joy, My darling, my honey, my pretty sweet boy; Before I do rock thee with soft lullaby, Give me thy dear lips to be kiss'd, kiss'd, kiss'd. CCCXCIX. [A favourite lullaby in the north of England fifty years ago, and perhaps still heard. The last word is pronounced _bee_.] Hush-a-bye, lie still and sleep, It grieves me sore to see thee weep, For when thou weep'st thou wearies me, Hush-a-bye, lie still and _bye_. CCCC. [From _Yorkshire_ and _Essex_. A nursery-cry.--It is also sometimes sung in the streets by boys who have small figures of wool, wood, or gypsum, &c. of lambs to sell.] Young Lambs to sell! Young Lambs to sell! If I'd as much money as I can tell, I never would cry--Young Lambs to sell! CCCCI. [From _Yorkshire_. A nursery-cry.]