Nursery Rhyme. DXXXVIII. Natural History.

    All of a row,
    Bend the bow,
    Shot at a pigeon,
    And killed a crow.

    Little cock robin peep'd out of his cabin,
    To see the cold winter come in,
            Tit, for tat, what matter for that,
            He'll hide his head under his wing!

    There was an owl lived in an oak,
        Wisky, wasky, weedle;
    And every word he ever spoke
        Was fiddle, faddle, feedle.

    A gunner chanced to come that way,
        Wisky, wasky, weedle;
    Says he, "I'll shoot you, silly bird."
        Fiddle, faddle, feedle.

    See, saw, Margery Daw,
    The old hen flew over the malt house,
    She counted her chickens one by one,
    Still she missed the little white one,
    And this is it, this is it, this is it.

    Once I saw a little bird,
    Come hop, hop, hop;
    So I cried, little bird,
    Will you stop, stop, stop?
    And was going to the window,
    To say how do you do?
    But he shook his little tail,
    And far away he flew.

    Bobbin-a-Bobbin bent his bow,
    And shot at a woodcock and kill'd a yowe:
    The yowe cried ba, and he ran away,
    But never came back 'till midsummer-day.