Baby, do you like your ride?

Baby on the baa-lamb!

Baby’s mother is beside

Baby riding baa-lamb.

Sisters too are dancing near

Baby,—near her baa-lamb;

On the ground is brother dear,

Almost touching baa-lamb.

Little birdies even stop,

Perching close to baa-lamb,

Now they chirp, and now they hop,—

They have no fear of baa-lamb.

Yet another sister there,

Comes to look at baa-lamb:

Her clothes and shoes are left,—oh, where?

Through haste to see poor baa-lamb.

The summer’s day too soon is past

For children and for baa-lamb;

You see our pleasure cannot last—

Not even rides on baa-lamb.