Rub-A-Dub-Dub
Rub-a-dub-dub,
Three men in a tub,
And who do you think they be?
The butcher, the baker,
The candlestick-maker,
Turn ’em out, knaves all three.
Who Killed Cock Robin?
Who Killed Cock Robin?
Who killed Cock Robin?
I, said the Sparrow,
With my bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin.
Who saw him die?
I, said the Fly,
With my little eye,
I saw him die.
Who caught his blood?
I, said the Fish,
With my little dish,
I caught his blood.
Who’ll make his shroud?
I, said the Beetle,
With my thread and needle,
I’ll make his shroud.
Who’ll dig his grave?
I, said the Owl,
With my pick and shovel,
I’ll dig the grave.
Who’ll be the parson?
I, said the Rook,
With my little book,
I’ll be the parson.
Who’ll be the clerk?
I, said the Lark,
If it’s not in the dark,
I’ll be the clerk.
Who’ll carry the link?
I, said the Linnet,
I’ll fetch it in a minute,
I’ll carry the link.
Who’ll be the chief mourner?
I, said the Dove,
I’ll mourn for my love,
I’ll be chief mourner.
Who’ll carry the coffin?
I, said the Kite,
If it’s not through the night,
I’ll carry the coffin.
Who’ll bear the pall?
We, said the Wren,
Both the cock and the hen,
We’ll bear the pall.
Who’ll sing a psalm?
I, said the Thrush,
As I sit on a bush,
I’ll sing a psalm.
Who’ll toll the bell?
I, said the Bull,
Because I can pull,
So Cock Robin, farewell.
All the birds of the air
Fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,
When they heard the bell toll
For poor Cock Robin.
My Mother Said
My Mother Said
My mother said that I never should
Play with the gypsies in the wood.
The wood was dark, the grass was green;
By came Sally with a tambourine.
I went to sea—no ship to get across;
I paid ten shillings for a blind white horse.
I upped on his back and was off in a crack,
Sally, tell my mother I shall never come back.
About the Bush
About the Bush
About the bush, Willie,
about the bee-hive,
About the bush, Willie,
I’ll meet thee alive.
The Clock
The Clock
There’s a neat little clock—
In the schoolroom it stands—
And it points to the time
With its two little hands.
And may we, like the clock,
Keep a face clean and bright,
With hands every ready
To do what is right.
Rock-A-Bye
Rock-A-Bye
Rock-a-bye, Baby,
Upon the tree top,
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks
The cradle will fall,
Down tumbles cradle,
Baby and all.
Also known as Hush-A-Bye, this song can be either a lullaby (though slightly disturbing at that) or an action song (much more fitting). As an action song, hold the infant or child cradled in your arms. Gently rock the little one back and forth as the wind blows. The when the cradle falls and down tumbles baby, gently lower your arms quickly, and “catch” your little one. Older preschoolers love this song and you can be a little more active in your actions.
Other rhymes that use this melody:
Dreams
Dreams
Friday night’s dream,
on Saturday told,
Is sure to come true,
be it never so old.
Billy, Billy
Billy, Billy
“Billy, Billy, come and play,
While the sun shines bright as day.”
“Yes, my Polly, so I will,
For I love to please you still.”
“Billy, Billy, have you seen
Sam and Betsy on the green?”
“Yes, my Polly, I saw them pass,
Skipping o’er the new-mown grass.”
Old Mother Goose
Old Mother Goose
Old Mother Goose, when
she wanted to wander,
Would ride through the air
On a very fine gander.
Mother Goose had a house,
‘Twas built in a wood.
An owl at the door
For a porter stood.
She had a son Jack,
A plain-looking lad.
He was not very good,
Nor yet very bad.
She sent him to market,
A live goose he bought.
“Here! Mother,” says he,
“It will not go for naught.”
Jack’s goose and her gander
Grew very fond;
They’d both eat together,
Or swim in the pond.
Jack found one morning,
As I have been told,
His goose had laid him
An egg of pure gold.
Jack rode to his mother,
The news for to tell.
She called him a good boy
And said it was well.
And Old Mother Goose
The goose saddled soon,
And mounting its back,
Flew up to the moon.
Little Bo-Peep
Little Bo-Peep
Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep
And doesn’t know where to find them;
Leave them alone,
And they’ll come home,
Wagging their tails behind them.
Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep,
And dreamt she heard them bleating;
But when she awoke she found it a joke,
for still they all were fleeting.
Then up she took her little crook,
Determined for to find them.
She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,
For they’d left all their tails behind ’em!
It happened one day, as Bo-Peep did stray
Unto a meadow hard by—
There she espied their tails, side by side,
All hung on a tree to dry.
She heaved a sigh and wiped her eye,
And over the hillocks she raced;
And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should,
That each tail should be properly placed.
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