My Maid Mary
My maid Mary
She minds her dairy,
While I go a-hoeing and mowing each morn.
Merrily runs the reel
And the little spinning-wheel
While I am singing and mowing my corn.
Beggars Are Come to Town
Hark! Hark!
The dogs do bark!
The beggars are come to town;
Some in rags,
Some in jags,
And some in velvet gowns.
Blow, Wind, Blow!
Blow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go!
That the miller may grind his corn;
That the baker may take it,
And into rolls make it,
And send us some hot in the morn.