Three wise men of Gotham
Went to sea in a bowl,
And if the bowl had been stronger
My song had been longer.
Wash me and comb me
And lay me down softly,
And set me a bank to dry,
That I may look pretty,
When some one comes by.
Up in the green orchard there is a green tree,
The finest of pippins that ever you see;
The apples are ripe, and ready to fall,
And Reuben and Robin shall gather them all.
Harry cum Parry, when will you marry?
When apples and pears are ripe.
I'll come to our wedding without any bidding,
And stay with the bride all night.
Jog on, jog on, the footpath way,
And merrily jump the style, boys,
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad one tires in a mile, boys.
I will sing you a song
Of the days that are long,
Of the woodcock and the sparrow,
Of the little dog that burnt his tail,
And he shall be whipt to-morrow.