The birdies may sleep, but the winds must wake Early and late, for the birdies' sake. Kissing them, fanning them, soft and sweet, E'en till the dark and the dawning meet. The flowers may sleep, but the winds must wake Early and late, for the flowers' sake. Rocking the buds on the rose-mother's breast, Swinging the hyacinth-bells to rest. The children may sleep, but the winds must wake Early and late, for the children's sake. Singing so sweet in each little one's ear, He thinks his mother's own song to hear. |