Old Father Bald Pate,
Ring the bells Aldgate.
Maids in white aprons,
Ring the bells at St. Catherine`s.
Oranges and Lemons,
Ring the bells at St. Clement`s.
When will you pay me?
Ring the bells at the Old Bailey.
When I am rich,
Ring the bells at Fleetditch.
When will that be?
Ring the bells of Stepney.
When I am old,
Ring the great bell at Paul`s.
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Anonymous English Christmas carol, likely based on an older French song
On the first day of Christmas,My true love sent to meA partridge in a pear tree.On the second day of Christmas,My true love sent to meTwo turtle doves, andA partridge in a pear tree.On the third day of Christmas,My true love sent to meThree French hens,Two turtle doves, andA partridge in a pear tree.On the…
THERE lived a wife at Usher’s well,
She had three stout and stalwart sons,And sent them o’er the sea.They hadna been a week from her,A week but barely ane,When word came to the carline wifeThat her three sons were gane.They hadna been a week from her,A week but barely three,When word came to the carline wifeThat her sons she’d never see.‘I wish…
MY Love in her attire doth show her wit,
For every season she hath dressings fit,For Winter, Spring, and Summer.No beauty she doth missWhen all her robes are on:But Beauty’s self she isWhen all her robes are gone.
MARTIAL, the things that do attain
The richesse left, not got with pain;The fruitful ground, the quiet mind;The equal friend; no grudge, no strife;No charge of rule, nor governance;Without disease, the healthful life;The household of continuance;The mean diet, no delicate fare;True wisdom join’d with simpleness;The night discharged of all care,Where wine the wit may not oppress.The faithful wife, without debate;Such sleeps…
There were three ravens sat on a tree,
The one of them said to his mate,‘Where shall we our breakefast take?’‘Downe in yonder greene field,There lies a knight slain under his shield.‘His hounds they lie downe at his feete,So well they can their master keepe.‘His haukes they flie so eagerly,There’s no fowle dare come him nie.’Downe there comes a fallow doe,As great with…
I SAW my Lady weep,
In those fair eyes where all perfections keep.Her face was full of woe;But such a woe (believe me) as wins more heartsThan Mirth can do with her enticing parts.Sorrow was there made fair,And Passion wise; Tears a delightful thing;Silence beyond all speech, a wisdom rare:She made her sighs to sing,And all things with so sweet…