January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes loud and shrill,
Stirs the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.
May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy dams.
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children's hands with posies.
Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gillyflowers.
August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm September brings the fruit,
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Fresh October brings the pheasant,
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves are whirling fast.
Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire and Christmas treat.
The moon and the weather
May change together;
But change of the moon
Does not change the weather;
If we'd no moon at all,
And that may seem strange,
We still should have weather
That's subject to change.
Autumn wheezy, sneezy, freezy;
Winter slippy, drippy, nippy;
Spring showery, flowery, bowery;
Summer hoppy, croppy, poppy.
As I sat under a sycamore tree, sycamore tree, sycamore tree,
I looked me out upon the sea,
A Christmas day in the morning.
I saw three ships a sailing there, sailing there, sailing there,
The Virgin Mary and Christ they bare,
A Christmas day in the morning.
He did whistle and she did sing, she did sing, she did sing,
And all the bells on earth did ring,
A Christmas day in the morning.
And now we hope to taste your cheer, taste your cheer, taste your
cheer,
And wish you all a happy New Year,
A Christmas day in the morning.
The rose is red, the violet blue,
The gillyflower sweet, and so are you;
These are the words you bade me say,
For a pair of new gloves on Easter-day.