Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb. Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow. Everywhere that Mary went, Mary went, Mary went. 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
Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn, The sheep’s in the meadow, the cow’s in the corn. Where’s the little boy who looks after the sheep? Under the 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. Incoming story terms:hey diddle diddle
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; She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O. And on his farm he had a cow, E-I-E-I-O. With a moo, moo here and a moo, moo there, Here a moo, there a moo, Everywhere a moo-moo, Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O. Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O And on his farm he had a pig, E-I-E-I-O With an oink, oink here and an oink, oink
Little Miss Muffet, sat on a tuffet, Eating her curds and whey; Along came a spider, who sat down beside her And frightened Miss Muffet away.
Baa baa, Black Sheep, Have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir, Three bags full: One for my master, One for my dame, And one for the little boy That lives in the lane!
What are little boys made of? Snips and snails, and puppy dogs tails, That’s what little boys are made of. What are little girls made of? Sugar and spice and all things nice, That’s what little girls are made of.
One, two, buckle my shoe, Three, four, knock at the door. Five, six, pick-up sticks, Seven, eight, lay them straight. Nine, ten, a big fat hen, Eleven, twelve, dig and delve. Thirteen, fourteen, maids are courting, Fifteen, sixteen, maids in the kitchen. Seventeen, eighteen, maids in waiting, Nineteen, twenty, my plate’s empty.
Jack and Jill went up the hill, To fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after. Up Jack got and home he ran, As fast as he could caper. There his mother bound his head, With vinegar and brown paper.