RHYMES 1

As I was going to St. Ives,
I met a man with seven wives;
Every wife had seven sacks,
Every sack had seven cats,
Every cat had seven kits;
Kits, cats, sacks, and wives,
How many were there going to St. Ives?

Baa, baa, black sheep,
   Have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir,
   Three bags full;

One for my master,
   One for my dame,
And one for the little boy
   That lives in our lane.

Birds of a feather flock together,
And so will pigs and swine;
Rats and mice will have their choice,
And so will I have mine.