Rock-a-bye, baby, in the treetop
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall
And down will come baby, cradle and all
Baby is drowsing, cosy and fair
Mother sits near, in her rocking chair
Forward and back the cradle she swings
And though baby sleeps, he hears what she sings
From the high rooftops down to the sea
No one's as dear as baby to me
Wee little fingers, eyes wide and bright --
Now sound asleep until morning light