All in the morning early,
The Little Boy in Blue
(The grass with rain is pearly)
Has thought of something new.
He saddled dear old Dobbin;
He had but half-a-crown;
And jogging, cantering, bobbing,
He came to London town.
The sheep were in the meadows,
The cows were in the corn;
Beneath the city shadows
At last he stood forlorn.
He stood beneath Bow steeple,
That is in London town;
And tried to count the people
As they went up and down.
Oh, there was not a daisy,
And not a buttercup;
The air was thick and hazy,
The Blue Boy gave it up.
The houses, next, in London,
He thought that he would count;
But still the sum was undone,
So great was the amount.
He could not think of robbing,
He had but half-a-crown;
And so he mounted Dobbin,
And rode back from the town.
The sheep were in the meadows,
The cows were in the corn;
Amid the evening shadows
He stood where he was born.