Rowsty dowt,

My fire is out.

My little maid’s not at home!

 

I’ll saddle my cock

And bridle my hen

And fetch my little maid home.

 

Home she came,

Tritty trot.

She asked for the porridge she left in the pot.

 

Some she ate

And some she shod

And some she gave to the truckler’s dog.

 

She took up the ladle

And knocked its head

And now poor Dapsy dog is dead!

 

Download the words to Rowsty Dowt.