  I know where some babies are snug asleep, All in a long straight row. And I know that someone is singing to them, Singing soft and low. And all night long the babies sleep And dream baby dreams, you know. And the little stars are listening, too, To the singing soft and low. Shall I tell you where these babies are? You never can guess, I know. And shall I tell you just who it is That is singing soft and low? Why, the little flowers are the babies, Dear, Out in the garden, you know. And the big pine-tree is singing to them, Singing soft and low. |
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