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PEACH PITS
oh,pik a pock of peach pits,pockets full of pie,foreign twenty black bords,baked until thay cry



ROBIN
''robin-a-bobbin
he bent his bow,
shot at a pigeon and killed a crow;
shot at a nother and killed his brother,
did robin-a-bobbin
who bent his bow''


LUCY
wretched richard,richened sweet,
by the fingers of his feet,
toted tuppence with his toes.
nodding nimbly next his nose.
the mist must myrtle on the way
where last the mistral minstrel lay.


COW
''sing heigh diddle diddle
the cat and the fiddle
the cow jumped over the moon-o
the dog,he laughed
to see such a craft
and the maid made off with the spoon-o''

LINES
whither the starling?
and wither the crow?
and wither the weather
when wither the snow?
right over and under,
and yonder the goths.

BO PEEP!
oh to reap in the weep
of the golden ripe reap!
all the sheep in the fold all asleep in the gold
of the ripe we reap.
wipe the reap from
your reap
ripe,reap,ripe,weep
ripe the weep of the reap
wipe weep,ripe reap.