Who'll sing his dirge?
"I," said the Thrush,
"As I sing in a bush,
I'll sing his dirge."
Who'll bear the pall?
"We," said the Wren,
Both the Cock and the Hen;
"We'll bear the pall."
Who'll carry his coffin?
"I," said the Kite,
"If it be in the night,
I'll carry his coffin."
Who'll toll the bell?
"I," said the Bull,
"Because I can pull,
I'll toll the bell."
All the birds of the air
Fell to sighing and sobbing
When they heard the bell toll
For poor Cock Robin.
My dear, do you know,
How a long time ago,
Two poor little children,
Whose names I don't know,
Were stolen away on a fine summer's day,
And left in a wood, as I've heard people say.
And when it was night,
So sad was their plight!
The sun it went down,
And the moon gave no light!
They sobbed and they sighed, and they bitterly cried,
And the poor little things, they lay down and died.
And when they were dead,
The robins so red,
Brought strawberry-leaves
And over them spread;
And all the day long,
They sung them this song:
"Poor babes in the wood! Poor babes in the wood!
Oh don't you remember the babes in the wood?"