Little Lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee? Gave thee life, and [bid]1 thee feed, By the stream and o'er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight, Softest clothing woolly, bright; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice? Little Lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee? Little Lamb, I'll tell thee, Little Lamb, I'll tell thee: He is callèd by thy name, For He calls Himself a Lamb. He is meek, and He is mild: He became a little child. I a child, and thou a lamb, We are callèd by His name. Little Lamb, God bless thee! Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Cock-A-Doodle-Doo! Cock-A-Doodle-Dandy!
Song Cycle by Paul Kapp (b. 1907)
?. The lamb  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Text Authorship:
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), "The lamb", appears in Songs of Innocence and Experience, in Songs of Innocence, no. 4, first published 1789
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "L'anyell", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Thomas F. Schubert) , "Das Lamm", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Bertram Kottmann) , copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- RUS Russian (Русский) [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov) , "Агнец", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
1 MacNutt, Somervell: "bade"
Researcher for this page: Ted Perry
?. There was a naughty boy  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
There was a naughty boy, A naughty boy was he, He would not stop at home, He could not quiet be -- He took In his knapsack A book Full of vowels And a shirt With some towels, A slight cap For night cap, A hair brush, Comb ditto, New stockings For old ones Would split O! This knapsack Tight at's back He rivetted close And followed his nose To the north, To the north, And follow'd his nose To the north. There was a naughty boy And a naughty boy was he, For nothing would he do But scribble poetry -- He took An ink stand In his hand And a pen Big as ten In the other, And away In a pother He ran To the mountains And fountains And ghostes And postes And witches And ditches And wrote In his coat When the weather Was cool, Fear of gout, And without When the weather Was warm -- Och the charm When we choose To follow one's nose To the north, To the north, To follow one's nose To the north! There was a naughty boy And a naughty boy was he, He kept little fishes In washing tubs three In spite Of the might Of the maid Nor afraid Of his Granny-good -- He often would Hurly burly Get up early And go By hook or crook To the brook And bring home Miller's thumb, Tittlebat Not over fat, Minnows small As the stall Of a glove, Not above The size Of a nice Little baby's Little fingers -- O he made 'Twas his trade Of fish a pretty kettle A kettle -- A kettle Of fish a pretty kettle A kettle! There was a naughty boy, And a naughty boy was he, He ran away to Scotland The people for to see -- There he found That the ground Was as hard, That a yard Was as long, That a song Was as merry, That a cherry Was as red, That lead Was as weighty, That fourscore Was as eighty, That a door Was as wooden As in England -- So he stood in his shoes And he wonder'd, He wonder'd, He stood in his Shoes and he wonder'd.
Text Authorship:
- by John Keats (1795 - 1821), "A song about myself", first published 1883
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]Total word count: 478