Tell me, little rain-drops,
Is that the way you play,
Pitter patter, pitter patter,
All the rainy day?

They say I'm very naughty,
But I've nothing else to do
But sit here at the window;
I should like to play with you.

The little rain-drops cannot speak,
But "pitter patter pat

Means, "We can play on this side, Why can't you play on that?"

OH LOOK AT THE MOON!

OH! look at the moon,

She is shining up there;
Oh! mother, she looks.
Like a lamp in the air.

Last week she was smaller,
And shaped like a bow;
But now she's grown bigger,
And round as an O.

Pretty moon, pretty moon,

How you shine on the door, And make it all bright

On my nursery floor!

You shine on my playthings, And show me their place, And I love to look up

At your pretty bright face.

And there is a star

Close by you, and may be That small twinkling star

COME HERE, LITTLE ROBIN.

COME here, little Robin, and don't be afraid,

I would not hurt even a feather;

Come here, little Robin, and pick up some bread, To feed you this very cold weather.

I don't mean to hurt you, you poor little thing, And pussy-cat is not behind me ;

So hop about pretty, and put down

your wing, And pick up the crumbs, and don't mind me!

Cold Winter is come, but it will not last long,
And Summer we soon shall be greeting;
Then remember, sweet Robin, to sing me a song,
In return for the breakfast you're eating!

ANNIE'S GARDEN.

IN little Annie's garden

Grew all sorts of posies;

There were pinks, and mignonette,
And tulips, and roses.

Sweet peas, and morning glories,

A bed of violets blue,

And marygolds, and asters,

In Annie's garden grew.

There the bees went for honey;

There the birds sipp'd the dew; And there the pretty butterflies, And the lady-birds flew.

And there among her flowers,
Every bright and pleasant day,
In her own pretty garden,
Little Annie went to play.

MY LITTLE DOLL ROSE.

I HAVE a little doll,

I take care of her clothes,
She has soft flaxen hair;
And her name is Rose.

She has pretty blue eyes,
And a very small nose,
And a cunning little mouth;
And her name is Rose.

I have a little sofa

Where my dolly may repose,
Or sit up like a lady;

And her name is Rose.

My doll can move her arms,
And stand upon her toes,

She can make a pretty curtsey,
My dear little Rose.

How old is your dolly?
Very young, I suppose,
For she cannot go alone,
My pretty little Rose....