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Boys and girls, come out to play.

OYS and girls, oh, hurry away,

The flare of fire is bright as day; Come with a shriek and come with a cry, Come though in terror, come lest you

die; Lose your supper, and lose your sleep, Join the fleeing ones in the street.


Feet of children, you ne'er shall go
By path of anguish or deeper woe,
Wait no instant, away, away!
Less cruel to go, than now to stay —
The Germans are coming,

Away! Away!

Ding, dong, bell,
Pussy's in the well.



The body's in the well! Who


it there? Germans have a care,

Whisper low, for they may hear,
Watch thy child, for they are near;
Who? —'s-sh–I dare not tell.

Ding, dong, bell.

Diddle diddle, dumpling, my son John

Went to bed with his stockings on.
One shoe off, the other shoe on,
Diddle diddle, dumpling, my son John.


OCH! Hoch! Hoch! the Kaiser's son

Went to bed with his stockings on, Drunk with white wine, and with redNot his the wine, nor yet the bed.

Hoch! Hoch! Hoch! now had you thought
So much harm were quickly wrought,
Where those soldiers on their way, ,
In a château, spent the day?

Hoch! Hoch! Hoch! the Kaiser's son;
You may not tell what he has done!

To market, to market.

(New rhymes, but old arguments for those Americans who to-day believe in “business as usual.")

VO market, to market,

The corn's in the ear,
The cotton boll's bursting,

The ship's at the pier.


(Farmer Rich)

of that bridle,
Stand out of the road,
Can't you see I've a job on,

And extra big load?

I don't understand

you, Your words are not plain; Who's “making sacrifice,

While we're bent on gain”?

Your son is a soldier.

What? Mine is for Peace;
And I tell you his business

Is on the increase.

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