Whisht, Baby! Whisht!
Quick below the cover!
Down into your nest, my bird!
And — do n't — you — dare — peep — over!
For the grey wolves they are prowling,
They are prowling, they are prowling.
And the snow-wind it is howling,
It is howling, it is howling.
Hark!— Hark!—
Out there in the dark —
Ow — ooh! Ow — ooh!
S-s-s-s-s-seee — oo — ooh!
The wolves they are lean,
So-o-o lean, so-o-o lean!
And the wind it is keen,
So-o-o keen, so-o-o keen!
And they seek little babies who are n't sleeping!
But lie you still, my Baby dear!
Lie still, lie still, and maybe you'll hear —
Hark!— Hark!—
Out there in the dark,—
The silver bells and the golden bells,
The swinging bells and the singing bells,—
The bells that are heard but never are seen,
The wind and the wolves, and the bells in between,—
The bells of Iline,
Good Stepan Iline,—
The bells of good Stepan Iline!