Pussy-cat sits by the fire;
How can she be fair?
In walks the little dog;
Says: “Pussy, are you there?
How do you do, Mistress Pussy?
Mistress Pussy, how d’ye do?”
“I thank you kindly, little dog,
I fare as well as you!”
Who saw him die?
“I,” said the fly,
“With my little eye,
I saw him die.”
Who caught his blood?
“I,” said the fish,
“With my little dish,
I caught his blood.”
Who’ll make his shroud?
“I,” said the beetle,
“With my thread and needle.
I’ll make his shroud.”
Who’ll carry the torch?
“I,” said the linnet,
“I’ll come in a minute,
I’ll carry the torch.”
Who’ll be the clerk?
“I,” said the lark,
“If it’s not in the dark,
I’ll be the clerk.”
Who’ll dig his grave?
“I,” said the owl,
“With my spade and trowel
I’ll dig his grave.”
Who’ll be the parson?
“I,” said the rook,
“With my little book,
I’ll be the parson.”
Who’ll be chief mourner?
“I,” said the dove,
“I mourn for my love,
I’ll be chief mourner.”
Who’ll sing a psalm?
“I,” said the thrush,
“As I sit in a bush.
I’ll sing a psalm.”
Who’ll carry the coffin?
“I,” said the kite,
“If it’s not in the night,
I’ll carry the coffin.”
Who’ll toll the bell?
“I,” said the bull,
“Because I can pull,
I’ll toll the bell.”
All the birds of the air
Fell sighing and sobbing,
When they heard the bell toll
For poor Cock Robin.
