Rock, little hammock, the birdies to sleep,
Then I'll give Dolly a sly little peep;
She will not touch them, the dear little things,
With down on their heads and down on their wings.
Very soon, Dolly, their feathers will grow,
And out of their cradle the birdies will go;
High away, low away, out of our sight,
Off to the wood in a family flight!
