Old Mother Goose,
When she wanted to wander,
Would fly through the air
On a very fine gander.
She had a son Jack,
A plain-looking lad.
T’was not very good,
Nor very bad.
She sent him to market,
A live goose he bought.
“See Mother,” he said,
“I have not been for naught.”
Jack’s mother came in
And caught the goose soon,
And mounting his back,
Flew up to the moon.
