My grandma used to sing this song to me, but it was a little different, and had one more verse:

Oh, Mother, How pretty the moon is tonight;
She ne'er was so cunning before.
Her two little horns are so sharp and so bright.
Oh, I hope she don't grow any more.

If I were up there, with you and my friends,
we'd rock in it nicely you'd see.
We'd sit in the middle and hold by both ends.
Oh, what a bright cradle it'd be.

We'd call to the stars to keep out of our way,
lest we should rock over their toes,
And there we would stay 'til the next day
And see where that pretty moon goes.

And there we would sit in that beautiful sky,
and through the bright clouds we would roam.
We watch the sun set, and watch the sun rise,
and on the next rainbow come home.