Volume I Part 11 (2/2)

Little Lamb, G.o.d bless thee.

William Blake [1757-1827]

LITTLE RAINDROPS

Oh, where do you come from, You little drops of rain, Pitter patter, pitter patter, Down the window-pane?

They won't let me walk, And they won't let me play, And they won't let me go Out of doors at all to-day.

They put away my playthings Because I broke them all, And then they locked up all my bricks, And took away my ball.

Tell me, little raindrops, Is that the way you play, Pitter patter, pitter patter, All the rainy day?

They say I'm very naughty, But I've nothing else to do But sit here at the window; I should like to play with you.

The little raindrops cannot speak, But ”pitter, patter pat”

Means, ”We can play on this side: Why can't you play on that?”

”MOON, SO ROUND AND YELLOW”

Moon, so round and yellow, Looking from on high, How I love to see you s.h.i.+ning in the sky.

Oft and oft I wonder, When I see you there, How they get to light you, Hanging in the air:

Where you go at morning, When the night is past, And the sun comes peeping O'er the hills at last.

Sometime I will watch you Slyly overhead, When you think I'm sleeping Snugly in my bed.

Matthias Barr [1831-?]

THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT

This is the house that Jack built.

This is the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the rat That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat That killed the rat That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog That worried the cat That killed the rat That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn That tossed the dog That worried the cat That killed the rat That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

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