Copyright, 1880, by Chas. D. Blake & Co.
Baby is sleeping so cozy and fair,
While mother sits near in her old oaken chair,
Her foot on the rocker the cradle she swings,
And though baby slumbers he hears what she sings.
Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.
Oh, rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, mother is near.
Then rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, nothing to fear;
For angels of slumber are hovering near,
So rock-a-bye, baby, mother is here.
Grandma sits knitting close by the fire-place,
With snowy white hair And a smile on her face;
The years have passed by, yet it does not seem long,
Since she rocked baby's papa to sleep with that song.-Lullaby.
Dear little baby, their joy and their pride.
Long may he be with them whatever betide;
The kitchen, the cradle, that lender refrain,
In mem'ry will linger that lullaby strain.-Lullaby