THE auld wife sat at her ivied door,
(_Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese_)
A thing she had frequently done before;
And her spectacles lay on her apron’d knees.
The piper he piped on the hill-top high,
(_Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese_)
Till the cow said “I die,” and the goose ask’d “Why?”
And the dog said nothing, but search’d for fleas.
The farmer he strode through the square farmyard;
(_Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese_)
His last brew of ale was a trifle hard—
The connexion of which with the plot one sees.
The farmer’s daughter hath frank blue eyes;
(_Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese_)
She hears the rooks caw in the windy skies,
As she sits at her lattice and shells her peas.
The farmer’s daughter hath ripe red lips;
(_Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese_)
If you try to approach her, away she skips
Over tables and chairs with apparent ease.
The farmer’s daughter hath soft brown hair;
(_Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese_)
And I met with a ballad, I can’t say where,
Which wholly consisted of lines like these.