Here We Go Round The Mulberry Bush

Here we go round the mulberry bush,
The mulberry bush, the mulberry bush;
Here we go round the mulberry bush
On a cold and frosty morning.

This is the way we wash our hands,
We wash our hands, we wash our hands;
This is the way we wash our hands
On a cold and frosty morning.

This is the way we do our hair,
We do our hair, we do our hair;
This is the way we do our hair
On a cold and frosty morning.

This is the way we mend our shoes,
We mend our shoes, we mend our shoes;
This is the way we mend our shoes
On a cold and frosty morning.

This is the way we scrub our clothes,
We scrub our clothes, we scrub our clothes;
This is the way we scrub our clothes
On a cold and frosty morning.

This is the way we dust our room,
We dust our room, we dust our room;
This is the way we dust our room
On a cold and frosty morning.

Here we go round the mulberry bush,
The mulberry bush, the mulberry bush;
Here we go round the mulberry bush
On a cold and frosty morning.

From Mulberry Bush to Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes

Childrens poems are fun and who knows nursery rhymes for kids better than Mother Goose herself. What better way to explain the importance of poems for kids than to quote from Mother Goose herself.

As spoken by the Ma’am Goose herself:

“My dear little Blossoms, there are now in this world, and always will be, a great many grannies beside myself, both in petticoats and pantaloons, some a deal younger, to be sure, but all monstrous wise and of my own family name.

These old women, who never had chick or child of their own, but who always know how to bring up other people's children, will tell you with long faces that my enchanting, quieting, soothing volume, my all-sufficient anodyne for cross, peevish, won't-be-comforted little bairns, ought be laid aside for more learned books, such as they could select and publish.

Fudge! I tell you that all their batterings can't deface my beauties, nor their wise prattlings equal my wiser prattlings; and all imitators of my refreshing songs might as well write another Billy Shakespeare as another Mother Goose—we two great poets were born together, and shall go out of the world together.

No, no, my melodies will never die, while nurses sing, or babies cry.

Excerpt From: "The Only True Mother Goose Melodies", Munroe & Francis, Boston. 1833

From Mulberry Bush to Nursery Rhymes Fun Home