Volume 13 / Part 2 — ROCK-A-BYE.

"Rock-a-bye, babies, upon the tree-top," To her young the mother-bird sings, "When the wind's still, the rocking will stop, And then you may all use your wings." "Rock-a-bye, babies, under the eaves," The swallow croons to her brood, "Here you are safer, my children, from thieves Than if I had built in the wood." "Rock-a-bye, babies, the river runs deep," The reed-bird trills to her flock, "The river stirs only to sing you to sleep, The wind your green cradle to rock!"