Читать книгу The Nursery Rhyme Book - Lang Andrew, May Kendall - Страница 5

TO make your candles last for a',

You wives and maids give ear-o!

To put 'em out's the only way,

Says honest John Boldero.

ST. SWITHIN's day, if thou dost rain,

For forty days it will remain:

St. Swithin's day, if thou be fair,

For forty days 'twill rain na mair.

IF wishes were horses,

Beggars would ride;

If turnips were watches,

I would wear one by my side.

NATURE requires five,

Custom gives seven!

Laziness takes nine,

And Wickedness eleven.      [Hours of Sleep.

SEE a pin and pick it up,

All the day you'll have good luck;

See a pin and let it lay,

Bad luck you'll have all the day!

NEEDLES and pins, needles and pins.

When a man marries his trouble begins.

BOUNCE buckram, velvet's dear;

Christmas comes but once a year.

A MAN of words and not of deeds,

Is like a garden full of weeds;

And when the weeds begin to grow,

It's like a garden full of snow;

And when the snow begins to fall,

It's like a bird upon the wall;

And when the bird away does fly,

It's like an eagle in the sky;

And when the sky begins to roar,

It's like a lion at the door;

And when the door begins to crack,

It's like a stick across your back;

And when your back begins to smart,

It's like a penknife in your heart;

And when your heart begins to bleed,

You're dead, and dead, and dead, indeed.

IF you sneeze on Monday, you sneeze for danger;

Sneeze on a Tuesday, kiss a stranger;

Sneeze on a Wednesday, sneeze for a letter;

Sneeze on a Thursday, something better;

Sneeze on a Friday, sneeze for sorrow;

Sneeze on a Saturday, see your sweetheart to-morrow.

WHEN the wind is in the east,

'Tis neither good for man nor beast;

When the wind is in the north,

The skilful fisher goes not forth;

When the wind is in the south,

It blows the bait in the fishes' mouth;

When the wind is in the west,

Then 'tis at the very best.

HE that would thrive

Must rise at five;

He that hath thriven

May lie till seven;

And he that by the plough would thrive,

Himself must either hold or drive.

A SWARM of bees in May

Is worth a load of hay;

A swarm of bees in June

Is worth a silver spoon;

A swarm of bees in July

Is not worth a fly.

Is not worth a fly.

YEOW mussent sing a' Sunday,

Becaze it is a sin,

But yeow may sing a' Monday