Young Canada's Nursery Rhymes

(An Egg)
In marble walls as white as milk,
Lined with a skin as soft as silk,
Within a fountain crystal clear,
A golden apple doth appear,
No doors there are to this stronghold,
Yet things break in and steal the gold.

Little Cock Robin peeped out of his nest,
To see the cold winter come in,
Tit for tat, what matter for that,
He'll hide his head under his wing!

Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November;
February has twenty-eight alone;
All the rest have thirty-one,
Excepting leap-year—that's the time
When February's days are twenty-nine.

The man in the wilderness asked me,
How many strawberries grew in the sea;
I answered him, as I thought good,
As many as red herrings grew in the wood.

Molly, my sister, and I fell out,
And what do you think it was about?
She loved coffee and I loved tea,
And that was the reason we could not agree.

My maid Mary, she minds her dairy,
While I go hoeing and mowing each morn;
Merrily run the reel and the little spinning wheel,
Whilst I am singing and mowing my corn.

A little boy went into a barn,
And lay down on some hay;
An owl came out and flew about,
And the little boy ran away.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
Silver bells, and cockle shells and pretty maids all in a row.

Little girl, little girl, where have you been?
Gathering roses to give to the Queen.
Little girl, little girl, what gave she you?
She gave me a diamond as big as my shoe.

Diddley, Diddley, Dumpty;
The cat ran up the plum tree.
I'll wager a crown
I'll fetch you down;
Sing, Diddledy, Diddledy, Dumpty.

I'll sing you a song
Though not very long
Yet I think it
As pretty as any.
Put your hand in your purse
You'll never be worse
An give the poor singer
A penny.

Rain, rain go away,
Come again some April day,
Little Johnny wants to play.

Little Betty Blue, lost her holiday shoe;
What can little Betty do?
Give her another to match the other,
And then she may walk in two.

Here am I, little jumping Joan;
When nobody's with me,
I am always alone.

Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday,
Christened on Tuesday, married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday, worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday, buried on Sunday,
This is the end of Solomon Grundy.

The man in the moon came tumbling down,
And asked his way to Norwich,
He went by the south, and burnt his mouth
With supping cold pease-porridge.

The North Wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will poor Robin do then?
He will hop to a barn,
And to keep himself warm
Will hide his head under his wint,
Poor thing.

(Coals)
Black we are, but much admired;
Men seek for us till they are tired.
We tire the horse, but comfort the man;