Spencer the Rover is an interesting example;

In Yorkshire near Rotherham he had been on his rambles,
Being weary of travelling he sat down to rest.
At the foot of yonder mountain there runs a clear fountain;
With bread and cold water he himself did refresh.

As discussed on Mudcat, rather oddly, it appears to have lost some internal rhymes;

It tasted more sweeter than the gold he had wasted,
More sweeter than honey and gave more content.
But the thoughts of his babies lamenting their father
Brought tears to his eyes and caused him to lament.

His children came around him with their prittle-prattling stories,
With their prittle-prattling stories to drive care away.
Now they are united like birds of one feather,
Like bees in one hive contented they'll stay.

Perhaps the words once were;

More sweeter it tasted than the gold he had wasted,
More sweeter than honey and gave more content.
But the thoughts of his babies lamenting their father
Brought tears to his eyes and caused him to lament.

His children came around him with their prittle-prattling stories,
With their prittle-prattling stories to drive care away.
Now they are together like birds of one feather,
Like bees in one hive contented they'll stay.