Sing-Song: Under the Ivy Bush

Under the ivy bush
One sits sighing,
And under the willow tree
One sits crying:—

Under the ivy bush

Under the ivy bush
Cease from your sighing,
But under the willow tree
Lie down a-dying.

I am a King

I am a King,
Or an Emperor rather,
I wear crown-imperial
And prince’s-feather;
Golden-rod is the sceptre
I wield and wag,
And a broad purple flag-flower
Waves for my flag.

Elder the pithy

Elder the pithy
With old-man and sage,
These are my councillors
Green in old age;
Lords-and-ladies in silence
Stand round me and wait,
While gay ragged-robin
Makes bows at my gate.

There is one that has a head without an eye

There is one that has a head without an eye,
And there’s one that has an eye without a head:
You may find the answer if you try;
And when all is said,
Half the answer hangs upon a thread!

If a mouse could fly

If a mouse could fly,
Or if a crow could swim,
Or if a sprat could walk and talk,
I’d like to be like him.

If a mouse could fly,
He might fly away;
Or if a crow could swim,
It might turn him grey;
Or if a sprat could walk and talk,
What would he find to say?

Sing me a song—

Sing me a song—
What shall I sing?—
Three merry sisters
Dancing in a ring,
Light and fleet upon their feet
As birds upon the wing.

Tell me a tale—

Tell me a tale—
What shall I tell?—
Two mournful sisters,
And a tolling knell,
Tolling ding and tolling dong,
Ding dong bell.

The lily has an air

The lily has an air,
And the snowdrop a grace,
And the sweetpea a way,
And the heartsease a face,—
Yet there’s nothing like the rose
When she blows.