Supper.
Reading edition
The little birds are flying, Each to its nesty home, The light is growing fainter, Come, little Cecil, come. ’Tis time to have your supper, Sister Alice has it here, She will feed you, little brother, Then rock you, baby dear; She will sing till you are sleepy, Sing about all kinds of things, Little boys, and cows, and horses, And birdies with swift wings; Of little boats a-sailing Upon the great wide sea; Of little dancing fairies, As tiny as can be; And then when little Cecil Has drooped his curly head, Gone off to visit Dreamland, She will put him in his bed.
