Rain before seven, Quit before eleven.
Evening red and morning gray Sets the traveler on his way; Evening gray and morning red, Brings down rain upon his head.
When the fog goes up the hill, Then the rain comes down by the mill.
When the bees all homeward fly, Flowers will not long be dry.
1, 2, 3, 4, Mary at the cottage door; 5, 6, 7, 8, Eating cherries off a plate.
Naught, one, Work is done; Two, three, Jubilee; Four, five, Ducks are alive; Six, seven, Stars shine up in heaven; Eight, nine, Queen, Queen Caroline, Wash your face in turpentine, Monkey-shine, monkey-shine, Queen, Queen Caroline.
In fourteen hundred and ninety-two Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November; All the rest have thirty-one, Excepting February alone, Which has twenty-eight in line, Till leap-year gives it twenty-nine.
Birds of a feather Flock together.
He that would thrive Must rise at five; He that has thriven May rise at seven.
Little strokes Fell great oaks.
See a pin and pick it up, All the day you"ll have good luck.
See a pin and let it lay, You"ll have bad luck all the day.
For every evil under the sun, There is a remedy, or there is none; If there be one, try and find it, If there be none, never mind it.
Pease porridge hot, Pease porridge cold, Pease porridge in the pot, Nine days old.
Some like it hot, Some like it cold, Some like it in the pot, Nine days old.
Hot-cross buns, Hot-cross buns, One a penny, two a penny, Hot-cross buns.
Hot-cross buns, Hot-cross buns, If you have no daughters, Give them to your sons.
SOME CHILDREN"S POETS
William Blake
PIPING DOWN THE VALLEYS WILD
Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me:--
"Pipe a song about a lamb:"
So I piped with merry cheer.
"Piper, pipe that song again:"
So I piped: he wept to hear.
"Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe, Sing thy songs of happy cheer!"
So I sang the same again, While he wept with joy to hear.
"Piper, sit thee down and write In a book, that all may read--"
So he vanished from my sight; And I plucked a hollow reed,
And I made a rural pen, And I stained the water clear, And I wrote my happy songs Every child may joy to hear.
THE LAMB