Once I knew a little girl,
Who wouldn't go to bed,
And in the morning always had
A very sleepy head.
At night she'd stop upon the stairs,
And hold the railings tight
Then with a puff she'd try to blow
Out Mary Ann's rushlight.
The bed at last they tuck'd her in,
The light she vow'd to keep;
Left in the dark she roar'd and cried;
Till tired she went to sleep.