DEAR mother, how pretty The moon looks to-night, She was never so cunning before; Her two little horns Are so sharp and so bright, I hope she'll not grow any more.
If I were up there With you and my friends, I'd rock in it nicely, you'd see; I would sit in the middle, And hold by both ends, Oh, what a bright cradle 'twould be!
I would call to the stars To keep out of the way, Lest we should rock over their toes; And there I would rock Till the dawn of the day, And see where the pretty moon goes.
And there we would stay In the beautiful skies, And through the bright clouds we would roam; We would see the sun set, And see the sun rise, And on the next rainbow come home.