The maple strews the embers of its leaves
O'er the laggard swallows nestled‘ neath the eaves;
And the moody cricket falters in his cry — Baby-bye!—
And the lid of night is falling o'er the sky — Baby-bye!—
The lid of night is falling o'er the sky!
The rose is lying pallid, and the cup
Of the frosted calla-lily folded up;
And the breezes through the garden sob and sigh — Baby-bye!—
O'er the sleeping blooms of summer where they lie — Baby-bye!—
O'er the sleeping blooms of summer where they lie!
Yet, Baby — O my Baby, for your sake
This heart of mine is ever wide awake,
And my love may never droop a drowsy eye — Baby-bye!—
Till your own are wet above me when I die — Baby-bye!—
Till your own are wet above me when I die.