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20                                                       SONGS FOR THE THE NURSERY
Back comes the little bird and looks, and in he
flies. Up wakes the little boy, and opens both his eyes.
Sleep, sleep, little boy, little bird's away,
Little bird will come again by the peep of day;
Sleep, sleep, little boy, little bird must go, Round about the world, while nobody can know.
Sleep, sleep sound, little bird goes round, Round and round he goes�sleep, sleep sound.
Do not chew the hemlock rank, Growing on the weedy bank; But the yellow cowslips eat, They will make it very sweet.
Where the bubbling water flows, Where the purple violet grows, Where the grass is fresh and fine, Pretty cow, go there and dine.
LITTLE ROSY.
Rosy, my posy,
You're weary, you're dozy; Sit upon grandmamma's knee;
Songs I will sing you,
Sweet sleep to bring you; Cuddle up cozy with me.
I will sing ditties
Of birds and of kitties� The song of the well to begin;
How young Johnny Stout
Pulled pussy-cat out, When Johnny Green let her fall in;
Of timid Miss Muffet,
Who fled from the tuffet; Of Bobby, who sailed on the sea;
Of Jack and his Gill;
Of the mouse at the mill; And baby that rocked on the tree.
Rosy, my Rosy,
As sweet as a posy� Ah! *now she's coming, I see,
Sleepy and dozy,
To cuddle up cozy, And hushaby-baby with me.
OH, LOOK AT THE MOON!
Mes. Follen.
Oh, look at the moon!
She is shining up there; O mother, she looks
Like a lamp in the air!
Last week she was smaller, And shaped like a bow;
But now she's grown bigger, And round as an O.
Pretty moon, pretty moon, How you shine on the door,
And make it all bright On my nursery floor!
You shine on my playthings, And show me their place;
And I love to look up
At your pretty bright face.
And there is a star
Close by you; and may be That small twinkling star
Is your little baby.
LITTLE BIRDIE.
Alfred Tennyson.
What does little birdie say In her nest at peep of day ? " Let me fly," says little birdie, " Mother, let me fly away." " Birdie, rest a little longer, Till the little wings are stronger." So she rests a little longer, Then she flies away.
THANK YOU, PRETTY COW.
Jane Taylor.
Thank you, pretty cow, that made Pleasant milk to soak my bread, Every day and every night, Warn), and sweet, and fresh, and white.







E-Book - An Annotated Compendium of Old Time American Songs by James Alverson III