Sing-Song: If a Pig Wore a Wig

If a pig wore a wig,
What could we say?
Treat him as a gentleman,
And say “Good day.”
If his tail chanced to fail,
What could we do?—
Send him to the tailoress
To get one new.

Seldom “can’t,”

Seldom “can’t,”
Seldom “don’t”
Never “shan’t,”
Never “won’t.”

What will you give me for my pound?

What will you give me for my pound?
Full twenty shillings round.
What will you give me for my shilling?
Twelve pence to give I’m willing.
What will you give me for my penny?
Four farthings, just so many.

January cold desolate

January cold desolate;
February all dripping wet;
March wind ranges;
April changes;
Birds sing in tune
To flowers of May,
And sunny June
Brings longest day;
In scorched July
The storm-clouds fly
Lightning-torn;
August bears corn,
September fruit;
In rough October
Earth must disrobe her;
Stars fall and shoot
In keen November;
And night is long
And cold is strong
In bleak December.

What is pink? a rose is pink

What is pink? a rose is pink
By the fountain’s brink.
What is red? a poppy’s red
In its barlev bed.
What is blue? the sky is blue
Where the clouds float thro’.
What is white? a swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow: pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow. What is green? the grass is green.
With small flowers between.
What is violet? clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? why, an orange,
Just an orange!

Mother shake the cherry-tree

Mother shake the cherry-tree,
Susan catch a cherry;
Oh how funny that will be,
Let’s be merry!
One for brother, one for sister,
Two for mother more,
Six for father, hot and tired,
Knocking at the door.

A pin has a head, but has no hair

A pin has a head, but has no hair;
A clock has a face, but no mouth there
Needles have eyes, but they cannot see;
A fly has a trunk without lock or key;
A timepiece may lose, but cannot win;
A corn-field dimples without a chin;
A hill has no leg, but has a foot;
A wine-glass a stem, but not a root;
A watch has hands, but no thumb or finger
A boot has a tongue, but is no singer;
Rivers run, though they have no feet;
A saw has teeth, but it does not eat;
Ash-trees have keys, yet never a lock;
And baby crows, without being a cock.

Hopping frog, hop here and be seen

Hopping frog, hop here and be seen,
I’ll not pelt you with stick or stone:
Your cap is laced and your coat is green;
Good bye, we’ll let each other alone.

Plodding toad, plod here and be looked at

Plodding toad, plod here and be looked at,
You the finger of scorn is crooked at:
But though you’re lumpish, you’re harmless too;
You won’t hurt me, and I won’t hurt you.

Where innocent bright-eyed daisies are

Where innocent bright-eyed daisies are,
With blades of grass between,
Each daisy stands up like a star
Out of a sky of green.