Once in my life I married a wife, And where do you think I found her? On Gretna Green, in velvet sheen, And I took up a stick to pound her. She jumped over a barberry-bush, And I jumped over a timber, I showed her a gay gold ring, And she showed me her finger. Ride a cock horse to Charing-Cross, To see a young woman Jump on a white horse, With rings on her fingers And bells on her toes, And she shall have music Wherever she goes. Johnny shall have a new bonnet, And Johnny shall go to the fair, And Johnny shall have a new ribbon To tie up his bonny brown hair. And why may not I love Johnny, And why may not Johnny love me? And why may not I love Johnny, As well as another body? And here's a leg for a stocking, And here's a foot for a shoe, And he has a kiss for daddy, And two for his mammy also. And why may not I love Johnny? And why, &c. &c. Who comes here? A Grenadier. What do you want? A pot of beer. Where's your money? I forgot. Get you gone, you drunken sot. Smiling girls, rosy boys, Come and buy my little toys, Monkeys made of gingerbread And sugar horses tinted red. There was an old woman, she liv'd in a shoe, She had so many children she didn't know what to do. She gave them some broth without any bread, She whipt them all soundly and put them to bed. Heigh ding a ding, what shall I sing? How many holes in a skimmer? Four and twenty. I'm half starving! Mother, pray give me some dinner. Hey rub-a-dub, ho rub-a-dub, three maids in a tub, And who do you think was there? The butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker, And all of them gone to the fair. TO BE SUNG IN A HIGH WIND. Arthur O'Bower has broken his band, And he comes roaring up the land, King of Scots with all his power Never can turn Sir Arthur O'Bower. Hush-a-bye, baby, upon the tree top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock; When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, Down tumble cradle and baby and all. Daffy-down-dilly is new come to town, With a petticoat green, and a bright yellow gown, And her white blossoms are peeping around. There was an old woman, and what do you think? She liv'd upon nothing--but victuals and drink: Victuals and drink were the chief of her diet, And yet this old lady scarce ever was quiet. The rose is red, the violet is blue, The gillyflower sweet--and so are you. These are the words you have me say For a pair of new gloves on Easter-day. Great A, little a, bouncing B, The Cat's in the cupboard, and she can't see. The little black dog ran round the house, And set the bull a roaring, And drove the monkey in the boat, Who set the oar a rowing, And scared the cock upon the rock, Who cracked his throat with crowing. Oh, what a sweet little white Mouse! Oh, what a dear little bright Mouse! With his eyes of pink, Going winky-wink, Oh, what a sweet little white Mouse.