Hurt no living thing: Nor cricket chirping cheerily, I caught a little ladybird I caught a little lady wife That is both staid and gay. Come back, my scarlet ladybird, Back from far away; I weary of my dolly wife, My wife that cannot play. She's such a senseless wooden thing She stares the livelong day; Her wig of gold is stiff and cold And cannot change to grey. All the bells were ringing And all the birds were singing, When Molly sat down crying For her broken doll: Sobbing and sighing For a broken doll, When all the bells are ringing, And all the birds are singing. |