The New Moon

Dear mother, how pretty

The moon looks to-night!

She was never so cunning before;

The 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'd 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 then I would rock

Till the dawn of the day,

And see where the pretty moon goes.

And then 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.