How many fingers has little wee hand?
Four, and a little wee thumb.
Shut them up under the bedclothes tight,
For fear that Jack Frost should come.
How many eyes has the Baby Bo?
Two, so shining and bright.
Shut them up under the little white lids.
And kiss them a loving good-night.
[BIRD-SONG.]
Sweet! sweet! sweet! sweet!
Sing we in the morning,
Sending up to heaven's blue our happy waking song;
Daily, gayly, our tiny home adorning,
Working all so merrily the whole day long.
Sweet! sweet! sweet! sweet!
Sing we in the noontide;
Half the day is over now, half our work is done;
Neatly, featly, the moss and twigs are blended,
Feather, flower, leaf, and stems, all added one by one.
Sweet! sweet! sweet! sweet!
Sing we in the evening;
Happy day is past, past, happy night begun;
Wooing, cooing, we nestle 'mid the branches,
Sinking down to rest with the sinking of the sun.
Soft, soft, soft, soft,
Sleep we through the still night;
Tiny head 'neath tiny wing comfortably curled,
Singing, springing, with the breath of morning,
Waking up once more to all the wonder of the world.