HUSH-A-BYE, baby, on the tree-top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,
Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all.

Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green;
Father’s a nobleman, mother’s a Queen;
Betty’s a lady, and wears a gold ring;
And Johnny’s a drummer, and drums for the King.

Bye, baby bunting,
Daddy’s gone a-hunting,
To get a little rabbit-skin,
To wrap his baby bunting in.

Hush thee, my baby,
Lie still with thy daddy,
Thy mammy has gone to the mill,
To grind thee some wheat
To make thee some meat,
And so, my dear baby, lie still.

Sleep, baby, sleep!
Thy father watches the sheep;
Thy mother is shaking the dream-land tree,
And down falls a little dream on thee:

Sleep, baby, sleep!
Sleep, baby, sleep.
The large stars are the sheep,
The wee stars are the lambs, I guess,
The fair moon is the shepherdess:
Sleep, baby, sleep!

Like the rhyme?


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