- Published on
Wash On Monday
Wash on Monday,
Iron on Tuesday,
Bake on Wednesday,
Brew on Thursday,
Churn on Friday,
Mend on Saturday,
Go to meeting on Sunday.
By Author Unknown
The words of the rhyme ‘Wash on Monday’ reflect the English tradition of washing clothes on Mondays. When the women of the oceangoing vessel the Mayflower came ashore on Monday 13 November 1620, the first thing they did was the washing, bringing the English tradition to America.
Continue scrolling down this website page to read the rest of the article, or click or tap on these words to read Laundry Gathered By David Hugh Beaumont.
Wash on Monday,
Iron on Tuesday,
Bake on Wednesday,
Brew on Thursday,
Churn on Friday,
Mend on Saturday,
Go to meeting on Sunday.
By Author Unknown
The words of the rhyme ‘Wash on Monday’ reflect the English tradition of washing clothes on Mondays. When the women of the oceangoing vessel the Mayflower came ashore on Monday 13 November 1620, the first thing they did was the washing, bringing the English tradition to America.
Continue scrolling down this website page to read the rest of the article, or click or tap on these words to read Laundry Gathered By David Hugh Beaumont.
- Published on
Mary’s Lamb
Mary had a little lamb
Its fleece was white as snow,
And everywhere that Mary went
The lamb was sure to go;
He followed her to school one day -
That was against the rule,
It made the children laugh and play,
To see a lamb at school.
And so the Teacher turned him out,
But still he lingered near.
And waited patiently about,
Till Mary did appear;
And then he ran to her, and laid
His head upon her arm,
As if he said - ‘I’m not afraid -
You’ll keep me from all harm.’
‘What makes the lamb love Mary so?’
The eager children cry -
‘O, Mary loves the lamb, you know.’
The Teacher did reply;
‘And you each gentle animal
In confidence may bind,
And make them follow at your call,
If you are always kind.’
By Sarah Hale: “Poems for Our Children” (1830)
Shown above is what is believed to be the true and original version of the poem “Mary’s Lamb.” When first published in 1830, it became an immediate success. It was printed on silk handkerchiefs and sold in Boston bookstores. Currier and Ives made a print of Mary and her lamb. Mrs. Hale later set the words to music and published it in her “School Song Book” (1834). The poem was published as a lesson in “The First Eclectic Reader” (1844), by its writer and editor, William Holmes McGuffey, without attribution to Sarah Josepha Hale, and so mistakenly became known as a ‘Mother Goose Rhyme.’ In 1877, Thomas Alva Edison made a phonograph recording, uttering the first ever recording of human speech, as “Mary had a little lamb.”
A variation of the poem exists as a nursery rhyme, shortened to eight lines and titled, “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” as shown below.
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went
The lamb was sure to go.
It followed her to school one day,
Which was against the rule.
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school.
By Author Unknown
Another variation of the poem exists as a song, as shown below.
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Lyrics:
Mary had a little lamb,
little lamb, little lamb,
Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went,
Mary went, Mary went,
and everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go.
It followed her to school one day
school one day, school one day,
It followed her to school one day, which was against the rules.
It made the children laugh and play,
laugh and play, laugh and play,
it made the children laugh and play to see a lamb at school.
And so the teacher turned it out,
turned it out, turned it out,
And so the teacher turned it out, but still it lingered near,
And waited patiently about,
patiently about, patiently about,
And waited patiently about till Mary did appear.
“Why does the lamb love Mary so?”
Love Mary so? Love Mary so?
“Why does the lamb love Mary so,” the eager children cry.
“Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know.”
The lamb, you know, the lamb, you know,
“Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know,” the teacher did reply.
By Author Unknown
Sarah Josepha Hale (maiden name Buell) was born on 24 October 1788 in Newport, New Hampshire, United States of America. She was a writer and an editor (1837 - 1877) for “Godey’s Lady Book” magazine, a poet, and a book author. She campaigned successfully to have Thanksgiving made into an American national holiday. Sarah Joseph Hale passed on at 90 years of age on 30 April 1879 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States of America.
Mary had a little lamb
Its fleece was white as snow,
And everywhere that Mary went
The lamb was sure to go;
He followed her to school one day -
That was against the rule,
It made the children laugh and play,
To see a lamb at school.
And so the Teacher turned him out,
But still he lingered near.
And waited patiently about,
Till Mary did appear;
And then he ran to her, and laid
His head upon her arm,
As if he said - ‘I’m not afraid -
You’ll keep me from all harm.’
‘What makes the lamb love Mary so?’
The eager children cry -
‘O, Mary loves the lamb, you know.’
The Teacher did reply;
‘And you each gentle animal
In confidence may bind,
And make them follow at your call,
If you are always kind.’
By Sarah Hale: “Poems for Our Children” (1830)
Shown above is what is believed to be the true and original version of the poem “Mary’s Lamb.” When first published in 1830, it became an immediate success. It was printed on silk handkerchiefs and sold in Boston bookstores. Currier and Ives made a print of Mary and her lamb. Mrs. Hale later set the words to music and published it in her “School Song Book” (1834). The poem was published as a lesson in “The First Eclectic Reader” (1844), by its writer and editor, William Holmes McGuffey, without attribution to Sarah Josepha Hale, and so mistakenly became known as a ‘Mother Goose Rhyme.’ In 1877, Thomas Alva Edison made a phonograph recording, uttering the first ever recording of human speech, as “Mary had a little lamb.”
A variation of the poem exists as a nursery rhyme, shortened to eight lines and titled, “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” as shown below.
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went
The lamb was sure to go.
It followed her to school one day,
Which was against the rule.
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school.
By Author Unknown
Another variation of the poem exists as a song, as shown below.
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Lyrics:
Mary had a little lamb,
little lamb, little lamb,
Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went,
Mary went, Mary went,
and everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go.
It followed her to school one day
school one day, school one day,
It followed her to school one day, which was against the rules.
It made the children laugh and play,
laugh and play, laugh and play,
it made the children laugh and play to see a lamb at school.
And so the teacher turned it out,
turned it out, turned it out,
And so the teacher turned it out, but still it lingered near,
And waited patiently about,
patiently about, patiently about,
And waited patiently about till Mary did appear.
“Why does the lamb love Mary so?”
Love Mary so? Love Mary so?
“Why does the lamb love Mary so,” the eager children cry.
“Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know.”
The lamb, you know, the lamb, you know,
“Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know,” the teacher did reply.
By Author Unknown
Sarah Josepha Hale (maiden name Buell) was born on 24 October 1788 in Newport, New Hampshire, United States of America. She was a writer and an editor (1837 - 1877) for “Godey’s Lady Book” magazine, a poet, and a book author. She campaigned successfully to have Thanksgiving made into an American national holiday. Sarah Joseph Hale passed on at 90 years of age on 30 April 1879 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States of America.
- Published on
Lullaby
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Flowers are closed and lambs are sleeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Stars are up, the moon is peeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
While the birds are silence keeping,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Sleep, my baby, fall a-sleeping,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
By Christina G. Rossetti: “Sing-Song: A Nursery Rhyme Book” (1893), page 134
Christina Georgina Rossetti was born on 5 December 1830 in London, England. She became a poet. She is known for “Goblin Market” and “Remember,” among other works. Christina Georgina Rossetti passed on at 64 years of age on 29 December 1894 in London, England.
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Flowers are closed and lambs are sleeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Stars are up, the moon is peeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
While the birds are silence keeping,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Sleep, my baby, fall a-sleeping,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
By Christina G. Rossetti: “Sing-Song: A Nursery Rhyme Book” (1893), page 134
Christina Georgina Rossetti was born on 5 December 1830 in London, England. She became a poet. She is known for “Goblin Market” and “Remember,” among other works. Christina Georgina Rossetti passed on at 64 years of age on 29 December 1894 in London, England.
- Published on
The Clever Hen
I had a little hen, the prettiest ever seen,
She washed me the dishes and kept the house clean;
She went to the mill to fetch me some flour,
She brought it home in less than an hour;
She baked me my bread, she brewed me my ale,
She sat by the fire and told many a fine tale.
By Author Unknown
I had a little hen, the prettiest ever seen,
She washed me the dishes and kept the house clean;
She went to the mill to fetch me some flour,
She brought it home in less than an hour;
She baked me my bread, she brewed me my ale,
She sat by the fire and told many a fine tale.
By Author Unknown
- Published on
All The Pretty Horses
Hush-a-bye don’t you cry,
Go to sleep-y, little baby.
When you wake you shall have
All the pretty little horses.
Blacks and bays, dapple grays,
Coach and six white horses.
Hush-a-bye don’t you cry,
Go to sleep-y, little baby.
By Author Unknown
Hush-a-bye don’t you cry,
Go to sleep-y, little baby.
When you wake you shall have
All the pretty little horses.
Blacks and bays, dapple grays,
Coach and six white horses.
Hush-a-bye don’t you cry,
Go to sleep-y, little baby.
By Author Unknown
- Published on
There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe
There was an old woman
who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children
she didn’t know what to do;
She gave them some broth
without any bread;
Then whipped them all soundly
and put them to bed.
by Author Unknown: as published in Joseph Ritson (1752 - 1803), author and editor: “Gammer Gurton’s Garland, or the Nursery Parnassus” (1784)
There was an old woman
who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children
she didn’t know what to do;
She gave them some broth
without any bread;
Then whipped them all soundly
and put them to bed.
by Author Unknown: as published in Joseph Ritson (1752 - 1803), author and editor: “Gammer Gurton’s Garland, or the Nursery Parnassus” (1784)
- Published on
The Farmer in the Dell ¹
The farmer in the dell,
The farmer in the dell,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o, ²
The farmer in the dell.
The farmer takes a wife,
The farmer takes a wife,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The farmer takes a wife.
The wife takes the child,
The wife takes the child,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The wife takes the child.
The child takes the nurse,
The child takes the nurse,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The child takes the nurse.
The nurse takes the cow,
The nurse takes the cow,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The nurse takes the cow.
The cow takes the dog,
The cow takes the dog,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The cow takes the dog.
The dog takes the cat,
The dog takes the cat,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The dog takes the cat.
The cat takes the mouse,
The cat takes the mouse,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The cat takes the mouse.
The mouse takes the cheese,
The mouse takes the cheese,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The mouse takes the cheese.
The cheese stands alone,
The cheese stands alone,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The cheese stands alone.
by Author Unknown
¹ Dell: A wooded valley.
² Derry: Officially called Londonderry, it is the second-largest city in Northern Ireland and the fourth-largest city on the island of Ireland. Despite the official name being Londonderry, the city is commonly called by the shorter ‘Derry,’ which is an Anglicization of the Old Irish ‘Daire’ (modern Irish ‘Doire’), which translates as ‘oak-grove’ or ‘oak-wood.’ The name is derived from the settlement’s earliest name ‘Daire Calgaich’ meaning ‘oak-grove of Calgach.’
The farmer in the dell,
The farmer in the dell,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o, ²
The farmer in the dell.
The farmer takes a wife,
The farmer takes a wife,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The farmer takes a wife.
The wife takes the child,
The wife takes the child,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The wife takes the child.
The child takes the nurse,
The child takes the nurse,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The child takes the nurse.
The nurse takes the cow,
The nurse takes the cow,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The nurse takes the cow.
The cow takes the dog,
The cow takes the dog,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The cow takes the dog.
The dog takes the cat,
The dog takes the cat,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The dog takes the cat.
The cat takes the mouse,
The cat takes the mouse,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The cat takes the mouse.
The mouse takes the cheese,
The mouse takes the cheese,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The mouse takes the cheese.
The cheese stands alone,
The cheese stands alone,
Heigh-ho, the Derry-o,
The cheese stands alone.
by Author Unknown
¹ Dell: A wooded valley.
² Derry: Officially called Londonderry, it is the second-largest city in Northern Ireland and the fourth-largest city on the island of Ireland. Despite the official name being Londonderry, the city is commonly called by the shorter ‘Derry,’ which is an Anglicization of the Old Irish ‘Daire’ (modern Irish ‘Doire’), which translates as ‘oak-grove’ or ‘oak-wood.’ The name is derived from the settlement’s earliest name ‘Daire Calgaich’ meaning ‘oak-grove of Calgach.’
- Published on
Humpty Dumpty’s Song
In winter, when the fields are white,
I sing this song for your delight.
In Spring, when woods are getting green,
I’ll try and tell you what I mean.
In Summer, when the days are long,
Perhaps you’ll understand the song.
In Autumn, when the leaves are brown,
Take pen and ink, and write it down.
I sent a message to the fish:
I told them, “This is what I wish.”
The little fishes of the sea,
They sent an answer back to me.
The little fishes’ answer was,
“We cannot do it, Sir, because -”
I sent to them again to say,
“It will be better to obey.”
The fishes answered, with a grin,
“Why, what a temper you are in!”
I told them once, I told them twice:
They would not listen to advice.
I took a kettle large and new,
Fit for the deed I had to do.
My heart went hop, my heart went thump:
I filled the kettle at the pump.
Then someone came to me and said,
“The little fishes are in bed.”
I said to him, I said it plain,
“Then you must wake them up again.”
I said it very loud and clear:
I went and shouted in his ear.
But he was very stiff and proud:
He said, “You needn’t shout so loud!”
And he was very proud and stiff:
He said, “I’d go and wake them, if -”
I took a corkscrew from the shelf:
I went to wake them up myself.
And when I found the door was locked,
I pulled and pushed and kicked and knocked.
And when I found the door was shut,
I tried to turn the handle, but -
by Lewis Carroll
Lewis Carroll is a pseudonym of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, who was born on 27 January 1832 in England. He became a writer, a mathematician, a logician, an Anglican deacon, and a photographer. His is known for the books, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” (1865) and its sequel, “Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There” (1871), as well as the poems, “The Hunting of the Snark” and “Jabberwocky,” all examples of the genre of literary nonsense. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson passed on at 65 years of age on 14 January 1898.
In winter, when the fields are white,
I sing this song for your delight.
In Spring, when woods are getting green,
I’ll try and tell you what I mean.
In Summer, when the days are long,
Perhaps you’ll understand the song.
In Autumn, when the leaves are brown,
Take pen and ink, and write it down.
I sent a message to the fish:
I told them, “This is what I wish.”
The little fishes of the sea,
They sent an answer back to me.
The little fishes’ answer was,
“We cannot do it, Sir, because -”
I sent to them again to say,
“It will be better to obey.”
The fishes answered, with a grin,
“Why, what a temper you are in!”
I told them once, I told them twice:
They would not listen to advice.
I took a kettle large and new,
Fit for the deed I had to do.
My heart went hop, my heart went thump:
I filled the kettle at the pump.
Then someone came to me and said,
“The little fishes are in bed.”
I said to him, I said it plain,
“Then you must wake them up again.”
I said it very loud and clear:
I went and shouted in his ear.
But he was very stiff and proud:
He said, “You needn’t shout so loud!”
And he was very proud and stiff:
He said, “I’d go and wake them, if -”
I took a corkscrew from the shelf:
I went to wake them up myself.
And when I found the door was locked,
I pulled and pushed and kicked and knocked.
And when I found the door was shut,
I tried to turn the handle, but -
by Lewis Carroll
Lewis Carroll is a pseudonym of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, who was born on 27 January 1832 in England. He became a writer, a mathematician, a logician, an Anglican deacon, and a photographer. His is known for the books, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” (1865) and its sequel, “Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There” (1871), as well as the poems, “The Hunting of the Snark” and “Jabberwocky,” all examples of the genre of literary nonsense. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson passed on at 65 years of age on 14 January 1898.
- Published on
To Market
To market, to market, to buy a fat pig.
Home again, home again, jiggety jig.
To market, to market, to buy a fat hog,
Home again, home again, jiggety jog.
To market, to market, to buy a plum bun,
Home again, home again, market is done.
by Author Unknown
To market, to market, to buy a fat pig.
Home again, home again, jiggety jig.
To market, to market, to buy a fat hog,
Home again, home again, jiggety jog.
To market, to market, to buy a plum bun,
Home again, home again, market is done.
by Author Unknown
- Published on
The Little Bird
Once I saw a little bird
Come hop, hop, hop;
So I cried, “Little bird,
Will you stop, stop, stop?”
And was going to the window
To say, “How do you do?”
But he shook his little tail,
And far away he flew.
by Author Unknown
Once I saw a little bird
Come hop, hop, hop;
So I cried, “Little bird,
Will you stop, stop, stop?”
And was going to the window
To say, “How do you do?”
But he shook his little tail,
And far away he flew.
by Author Unknown
