On the wind of January Down flits the snow, Travelling from the frozen North As cold as it can blow. Poor robin redbreast,

Rosy maiden Winifred, With a milkpail on her head, Tripping through the corn, While the dew lies on the wheat In the sunny morn.

She sat alway thro’ the long day Spinning the weary thread away; And ever said in undertone: ‘Come, that I be no more alone.’ From early dawn to set of sun

What do the stars do Up in the sky, Higher than the wind can blow, Or the clouds can fly? Each star in its own glory

Mix a pancake, Stir a pancake, Pop it in the pan; Fry the pancake, Toss the pancake, —

I nursed it in my bosom while it l… I hid it in my heart when it was d… In joy I sat alone, even so I gri… Alone and nothing said. I shut the door to face the naked…

It is over. What is over? Nay, now much is over truly!— Harvest days we toiled to sow for; Now the sheaves are gathered newly… Now the wheat is garnered duly.

Once in a dream I saw the flowers That bud and bloom in Paradise; More fair they are than waking eye… Have seen in all this world of our… And faint the perfume—bearing rose…

Lullaby, oh, lullaby! Flowers are closed and lambs are s… Lullaby, oh, lullaby! Stars are up, the moon is peeping; Lullaby, oh, lullaby!

A white hen sitting On white eggs three: Next, three speckled chickens As plump as plump can be. An owl, and a hawk,

The dog lies in his kennel, And Puss purrs on the rug, And baby perches on my knee For me to love and hug. Pat the dog and stroke the cat,

Long ago and long ago, And long ago still, There dwelt three merry maidens Upon a distant hill. One was tall Megan,