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.
WORCESTERSHIRE CAROL
Here we come a whistling, through the fields so green;
Here we come a singing, so far to be seen.
God send you happy, God send you happy,
Pray God send you a Happy New Year!
The roads are very dirty, my boots are very thin,
I have a little pocket, to put a penny in.
God send you happy, God send you happy,
Pray God send you a Happy New Year!
Bring out your little table, and spread it with a cloth,
Bring out some of your old ale, likewise your Christmas loaf.
God send you happy, God send you happy,
Pray God send you a Happy New Year!
God bless the master of this house, likewise the mistress too;
And all the little children that round the table strew.
God send you happy, God send you happy,
Pray God send you a Happy New Year!
If Christmas Day on Thursday be,
A windy winter you shall see;
Windy weather in each week,
And hard tempests strong and thick;
The summer shall be good and dry,
Corn and beasts shall multiply;
That year is good for lands to till,
Kings and princes shall die by skill;
If a child that day born should be
It shall happen right well for thee,
Of deeds he shall be good and stable,
Wise of speech and reasonable;
Whoso that day goes thieving about,
He shall be punished with doubt;
And if sickness that day betide,
It shall quickly from thee glide.
April, June, and September
Thirty days have as November;
Each month else doth never vary
From thirty-one, save February,
Which twenty-eight doth still confine,
Save on leap year, then twenty-nine.
If Saturday’s moon
Come once in seven years,
It comes too soon.
HOLLANTIDE, 1st NOVEMBER
If ducks do slide at Hollantide,
At Christmas they will swim;
If ducks do swim at Hollantide,
At Christmas they will slide.
If New Year’s Eve night wind blows south,
It betokeneth warmth and growth;
If west, much milk, and fish in the sea;
If north, much cold and storms there will be;
If east, the trees will bear much fruit;
If north-east, flee it man and brute.
ST VINCENT’S DAY
January 22nd, Old Style.
February 3rd, New Style.
Remember in St Vincent’s day
If the sun his beams display,
’Tis a token, bright and clear,
That you will have a prosperous year.
Remember, remember,
The fifth of November,
Gunpowder treason and plot,
I hope that night will never be forgot.
The king and his train
Had like to be slain;
Thirty-six barrels of gunpowder
Set below London to blow London up!
Holla boys! Holla boys!
Let the bells ring!
Holla boys! Holla boys!
God save the King!
A stick or a stake
For Victoria’s sake,
And pray ye remember the bonfire night.
LINCOLNSHIRE HARVEST HOME
I rent my shirt and tore my skin
To get my master’s harvest in.
Hip! hip! hurrah!
Harvest in and harvest home,
We’ll get a good fat hen and bacon bone,
Hip! hip! hurrah!
Farmer Brown has got his corn
Well mown and well shorn.
Hip! hip! hurrah!
Never turned over and never stuck fast,
The harvest cart has come home at last.
Hip! hip! hurrah!
February borrowed from fair April
Three days, and paid them back all ill.
First of them was ra’ and weet,
The second of them was sna’ and sleet,
And the third of them was sic a freeze,
The birds they stickit upon the trees.
February fill the dike,
Be it black, or be it white!
If it be white, it’s the better to like.
Oak before ash,
There’ll be a splash;
Ash before oak,
There’ll be a choke.
ESSEX
Winter thunder,
Rich man’s food,
And poor man’s hunger.
When the moon is at the full
Mushrooms you may freely pull;
But when the moon is on the wane,
Wait ere you think to pluck again.
ST CLEMENT’S APPLE FEAST,
STAFFORDSHIRE
Clemany! Clemany! Clemany mine!
A good red apple and a pint of wine,
Some of your mutton and some of your veal,
If it is good, pray give me a deal;
If it is not, pray give some salt.
Butler! butler! fill your bowl;
If thou fill’st it with the best,
The Lord’ll send your soul to rest;
If thou fill’st it of the small,
Down goes butler, bowl and all.
Pray, good mistress, send to me,
One for Peter, one for Paul,
One for Him who made us all,
Apple, pear, plum, or cherry,
Any good thing to make us merry;
A bouncing buck, and velvet chair,
Clement comes but once a year;
Off with the pot, and on with the pan,
A good red apple and I’ll begone!
SPRING
1600
Spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king,
Then bloomes each thing, then maydes dance in a ring;
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
Cuckow, Jugge, Jugge, pu-we to witta woo.
The Palme and May make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pype all day,
And we have aye birds tune this merry lay,
Cuckow, Jugge, Jugge, pu-we to witta woo.
SUSSEX
If apples bloom in March,
In vain for ’um you’ll sarch;
If apples bloom in April,
Why then they’ll be plentiful;
If apples bloom in May,
You may eat ’um night and day.
Through storm and wind,
Sunshine and shower,
Still will ye find
Groundsel in flower.
SPRING
Sound the flute!
Now ’tis mute;
Birds delight
Day and night,
Nightingale,
In the dale,
Lark in sky—
Merrily,
Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year.
Little boy,
Full of joy;
Little girl,
Sweet and small,
Cock does crow,
So do you;
Merry voice,
Infant noise;
Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year.
Little lamb,
Here I am;
Come and lick
My white neck;
Let me pull
Your soft wool;
Let me kiss
Your soft face;
Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Rain, rain, go away,
And come again another day,
When I brew and when I bake,
I’ll gie you a little cake.
YARROW
If the evening’s red and the morning gray,
It is the sign of a bonnie day;
If the evening’s gray and the morning red,
The lamb and the ewe will go wet to bed.
WILTS
The rainbow in the marnin’
Gies the shepherd warnin’
To car’ his girt cwoat on his back;
The rainbow at night
Is the shepherd’s delight,
For then no girt cwoat will he lack.
Rainbow, rainbow,
Rin away hame;
Come again at Martinmas,
When a’ the corn’s in.
Why, I cannot tell,
But I know full well,
With wind in the east,
Fish bite not in the least.
DEVON
The west wind always brings wet weather;
The east wind wet and cold together;
The south wind always brings us rain;
The north wind blows it back again;
If the sun in red should set,
The next day surely will be wet;
If the sun should set in gray,
The next will be a rainy day.
The wind at north or east
Is neither good for man nor beast;
So never think to cast a clout,
Until the end of May be out.
THE MOON
There was a thing a full month old,
When Adam was no more;
But ere that thing was five weeks old
Adam was years five score.
FROM POOR ROBIN’S ALMANAC
1808
SPRING
About the seasons of the year,
Astrologers may make a fuss;
But this I know, that spring is here,
When I can cut asparagus.
SUMMER
Concerning dates, whate’er they pen,
No matter whether true or not,
I know it must be summer when
Green peas are boiling in the pot.
AUTUMN
And autumn takes his turn to reign,
I know as sure as I’m a sinner,
When leaves are scattered o’er the plain,
And grapes are eaten after dinner.
WINTER
Winter is known by frost and snow,
To all the little girls and boys;
But it’s enough for me to know,
I get no greens except savoys.
