'Sing a song of sixpence' a pocket full of rye, Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie when the pie was opened the birds began to sing. Oh wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king ? The king was in his counting house counting out his money; The queen was in the parolur eating bread and hony. The maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes, when down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose !...

The Blackbird...
Ov all the birds upon the wing
Between the sunny show'rs o' spring,-
Vor all the lark, a-swingen high.
Mid zing below a cloudless sky,
An' sparrows, clust'ren roun' the bough,
Mid chatter to the men at plough,-
The blackbird, whisslen in among
The boughs, do zing the gayest zong...