Rock-a-bye, little one, up in the treetop,
Oh, can't you hear the wind singing;
And a light little rustle that never will stop,

Breezes and boughs are beginning.
Rock-a-bye, little baby so dear,
Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye!

Rock-a-bye, baby, Mama is near,
Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye!
Weave him a basket of dreams, little breezes!

Little leaves, nestle around him;
So that he will remember the song of the trees,
When age with silver has crowned him.

Rock-a-bye, little baby so dear,
Rock-a-bye, Rock-a-bye!
Rock-a-bye, baby, Mama is near,

Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye!