What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
a3eyn bien blisse blod bote bounte brede bryht bryng Catskin chyld Crist cuer dame dance deth Dieu drynke femme fere feyr ffor fust Godes grete hath haveth hevene hire honde huerte Jack Horner JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL Jhesu John John Crowder JOHN PAYNE COLLIER joie king kyng lady levedy loke londe lord lordys love thou Lucy Locket lyht maid Mary mede merry mete molt myht namore no3t noht nout nowell nyht old woman Percy Society Quar Richard to Robin Robin to Bobbin rode ry3t sauntz says Richard says Robin schalle shal shalbe shulde sing sone song sore speke stonde suete Suete Jhesu sunne syng thah ther thoht thou art thow thre thyng tiel trewe tyme wife WILLIAM CHAPPELL withouten Wolcum wolde wylle yf thou
Page 179 - OLD King Cole was a merry old soul, And a merry old soul was he; He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl, And he called for his fiddlers three.
Page 132 - One, two, Buckle my shoe; Three, four, Shut the door; Five, six, Pick up sticks; Seven, eight, Lay them straight; Nine, ten, A good fat hen; Eleven, twelve, Who will delve?
Page 27 - The boar's head in hand bear I, Bedeck'd with bays and rosemary ; And I pray you, my masters, be merry Quot estis in convivio. Caput apri defero, Reddens laudes domino.
Page 63 - SO now is come our joyful'st feast; Let every man be jolly, Each room with ivy leaves is drest, And every post with holly. Though some churls at our mirth repine, Round your foreheads garlands twine, Drown sorrow in a cup of wine, And let us all be merry. Now, all our neighbours...
Page 5 - Then came the Holy One, blessed be He ! And killed the Angel of Death, That killed the butcher, That slew the ox, That drank the water, That quenched the fire, That burned the staff, That beat the dog, That bit the cat, That ate the kid That my father bought For two pieces of money: A kid, a kid.
Page 95 - As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives, Every wife had seven sacks, Every sack had seven cats, Every cat had seven kits— Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, How many were going to St. Ives?
Page 46 - Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye; Four and twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie. When the pie was opened, The birds began to sing; Wasn't that a dainty dish To set before the king?
Page 64 - Young men and maids, and girls and boys, Give life to one another's joys; And you anon shall by their noise Perceive that they are merry.