Getting up.

Baby, baby, ope your eye,

For the sun is in the sky,

And he’s peeping once again

Through the frosty window-pane;

Little baby, do not keep

Any longer fast asleep.

There now, sit in mother’s lap,

That she may untie your cap:

For the little strings have got

Twisted into such a knot:

Ah! for shame, you’ve been at play

With the bobbin, as you lay.

There it comes, now let us see

Where your petticoats can be:

Oh! they’re in the window-seat,

Folded very smooth and neat:

When my baby older grows,

She shall double up her clothes.

Now one pretty little kiss,

For dressing you so nice as this;

And, before we go down stairs,

Don’t forget to say your pray’rs;

For ’tis God who loves to keep

Little babies while they sleep.