94

92

The man in the moon
Came tumbling down,
And asked the way to Norwich;
He went by the south
And burned his mouth
With supping cold pease porridge.

93

The north wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will the robin do then?
Poor thing!

He will sit in a barn,
And to keep himself warm,
Will hide his head under his wing,
Poor thing!

The Queen of Hearts she made some tarts,
All on a summer's day.
The Knave of Hearts he stole those tarts,
And hid them clean away.
The King of Hearts he missed those tarts,
And beat the Knave right sore,
The Knave of Hearts brought back the tarts,
And vowed he'd steal no more.