| GOING TO BED |
The moon is up, the sun is gone, Now nothing here he shines upon; The pretty birds are in their nest, The cows are lying down to rest, Or wait, beneath the farmer's shed, To hear the merry milkmaid's tread. The pleasant flowers that opened wide, And smelt so sweet at morning-tide, Fold up their leaves, as if to say, "Good-by, we'll come another day; And now, dear little lady, you Must sleep, as we shall seem to do." Yes,--here's my pretty bed, and I Will kiss mamma, and say "by, by!" So nice and warm, so smooth and white, So comfortable all the night! And when my little prayer is said, How could I cry to go to bed? |
| --Jane Taylor. |
| TIME TO GET UP |
The cock, who soundly sleeps at night, Rises with the morning light; Very loud and shrill he crows; Then the sleeping ploughman knows He must rise and hasten, too, All his morning work to do. And the little lark does fly To the middle of the sky. You may hear his merry tune, In the morning very soon; For he does not like to rest Idly in his downy nest. While the cock is crowing shrill, Leave my little bed I will, And I'll rise to hear the lark, Now it is no longer dark. 'T would be a pity there to stay, When 't is bright and pleasant day. |
| --Jane Taylor. |
| THE SNOWDROP |
Now the spring is coming on, Now the snow and ice are gone, Come, my little snowdrop root, Will you not begin to shoot? Ah! I see your pretty head Peeping on the flower bed, Looking all so green and gay On this fine and pleasant day. For the mild south wind doth blow, And hath melted all the snow, And the sun shines out so warm, You need not fear another storm. So come up, you pretty thing, Just to tell us it is spring, Hanging down your modest head On my pleasant flower bed. |
| --Jane Taylor. |
| GETTING UP |
Now, my baby, ope your eye, For the sun is in the sky, And he's peeping once again Through the frosty windowpane. Little baby, do not keep Any longer fast asleep. There now, sit in mother's lap, That she may untie your cap; For the little strings have got Twisted into such a knot. Yes, you know you've been at play With the bobbin as your lay. There it comes, now let us see Where your petticoats can be; Oh, they're in the window seat, Folded very smooth and neat; When my baby older grows She shall double up her clothes. Now one pretty little kiss, For dressing you so nice as this. But before we go downstairs, Don't forget to say your prayers, For 't is God who loves to keep Little babies fast asleep. |
| --Jane Taylor. |