ANONYMOUS NURSERY RHYME

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Sing a song of sixpence,

A pocket full of rye,

Four and twenty blackbirds, 

Baked in a pie;

When the pie was opened, 

The birds began to sing; 

Wasn’t that a dainty dish 

To set before a king?

The king was in his countinghouse 

Counting out his money;

The queen was in the parlor 

Eating bread and honey;

The maid was in the garden 

Hanging out the clothes, 

Along came a blackbird, 

And snipped off her nose.