| Trippitty trip, trippitty trip, |
| Round and round we merrily skip; |
| Hippitty hop, hippitty hop, |
| Oh, 'tis such fun we never can stop! |
Up in the clouds little angel hands
Are shaking their beds so the feathers fly.
They flutter down through the frosty air,
Till soft and white on the ground they lie.
Oh, fair little angels, come and keep
A watch while the baby lies asleep!
