The Queen of Hearts,
She made some Tarts,
All on a Summer's Day:
The Knave of Hearts,
He stole those Tarts,
And took them right away.
The King of Hearts,
Called for those Tarts,
And beat the Knave full sore:
The Knave of Hearts,
Brought back those Tarts,
And vowed he'd steal no more.
Sing a Song for Sixpence,
A Pocketful
of Rye;
Four-and-Twenty Blackbirds
Baked
in a Pie.
When the Pie was opened,
The Birds began to sing;
Was not 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 Parlour,
Eating Bread and Honey.
The Maid was in
the Garden,
Hanging out the Clothes;
There came a little Blackbird,
And snapped off her Nose.
But there came a
Jenny Wren
and popped it on again.
