Love me little, love me long,
Is the burden of my song.
Love that is too hot and strong
Burneth soon to waste:
Still, I would not have thee cold,
Not too backward, nor too bold;
Love that lasteth till ’ tis old
Fadeth not in haste.
Love me little, love me long,
Is the burden of my song.
Open the gates — the gates of the Temple,
Swift to Thy sons, who Thy truths have displayed.
Open the gates — the gates that are hidden,
Swift to Thy sons, who Thy Law have obeyed.
Open the gates — of the coveted Temple,
Swift to Thy sons who confess and seek grace.
Open the gates — of the armies celestial,
Swift to Thy sons, Judah’ s tearful-eyed race.
Open the gates — the radiant portals,
Swift to Thy sons who are lovely and pure.
Open the gates — of the crown of fidelity,
Swift to Thy sons who in God rest secure.
I
1
Pearl, the precious prize of a king,
Chastely set in cherished gold,
In all the East none equalling,
No peer to her could I behold.
So round, so rare, a radiant thing,
So smooth she was, so small of mold,
Wherever I judged gems glimmering
I set her apart, her price untold.
Alas, I lost her in earth’ s green fold;
Through grass to the ground, I searched in vain.
I languish alone; my heart grows cold
For my precious pearl without a stain.
2
My father has a pair of shoes
So beautiful to see.
I want to wear my father's shoes.
They are too big for me.
My baby brother has a pair
As cunning as can be.
My feet won't go into that pair.
They are too small for me.
There's only one thing that I can do
Till I get small or grown.
If I want to have some fitting shoes
I'll have to wear my own.
Sometimes I,
I go about pitying
Myself
While I am carried by the wind
Across the sky.
There once was a bamboo ladder.
It reached up to the sky.
And the Japanese man
Did tricks on the ladder
And said what a good man am I.
Sing, cuccu, nu. Sing, cuccu.
Sing, cuccu. Sing, cuccu, nu.
Sumer is i-cumin in —
Lhude sing, cuccu!
Groweth sed and bloweth med
And springth the wude nu.
Sing, cuccu!
Sitteth alle stille and herkneth to me!
The King of Alemaigne, by mi leaute,
Thritty thousand pound askede he
For to make the pees in the countre —
And so he dude more.
Richard, thah thou be ever trichard,
Tricchen shalt thou nevermore.
The first day of Christmas,
My true love sent to me
A partridge in a pear tree.
The second day of Christmas,
My true love sent to me
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.
The third day of Christmas,
My true love sent to me
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.
The fourth day of Christmas,
My true love sent to me
Four colly birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.
There was a little turtle.
He lived in a box.
He swam in a puddle.
He climbed on the rocks.
He snapped at a mosquito.
He snapped at a flea.
He snapped at a minnow.
He snapped at me.
He caught the mosquito.
He caught the flea.
He caught the minnow.
But... he didn't catch me!
