Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, Pease porridge in the pot, nine days old; Some like it hot, some like it cold, Some like it in the pot, nine days old |
Little Boy Blue poem A Little Boy Blue come blow your horn, The sheep's in the meadow the cow's in the corn. But where's the boy who looks after the sheep? He's under a haystack fast asleep. Will you wake him? No, not I - for if I do, he's sure to cry Hey! diddle, diddle, The cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon; The little dog laughed To see such sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon. |
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