Nicely middle hope next
roam before end hold
1. Dear mother, how pretty
The moon looks to-night!
She was never so pretty before;
Her two little horns
Are so sharp and so bright,
I hope she’ll not grow any more.
2. If I were up there,
With you and my friends,
I’d rock in it nicely, you’d see;
I’d sit in the middle
And hold by both ends;
Oh, what a bright cradle ‘t would be!
3. And there we would stay
In the beautiful skies,
And through the bright clouds we would roam;
We would see the sun set,
And see the sun rise,
And on the next rainbow come home.
(ELIZA LEE FOLLEN )