Upstairs, downstairs and in my lady’s chamber
There I met an old man who wouldn’t say his prayers,
I took him by the left leg and threw him down the stairs.
Cackle, cackle, Mother Goose, Have you any feathers loose?
Truly have I, pretty fellow, Half enough to fill a pillow.
Here are quills, take one or two, And down to make a bed for you.