Oh, the little bird is rocking in the cradle of the wind,
       &nbspAnd it's bye, my little wee one, bye;
The harvest all is gathered and the pippins all are binned;
       &nbspBye, my little wee one, bye;
The little rabbit's hiding in the golden shock of corn,
The thrifty squirrel's laughing bunny's idleness to scorn;
You are smiling with the angels in your slumber, smile till morn;
       &nbspSo it's bye, my little wee one, bye.

There'll be plenty in the cellar, there'll be plenty on the shelf;
       &nbspBye, my little wee one, bye;
There'll be goodly store of sweetings for a dainty little elf;
       &nbspBye, my little wee one, bye.
The snow may be a-flying o'er the meadow and the hill,
The ice has checked the chatter of the little laughing rill,
But in your cosey cradle you are warm and happy still;
       &nbspSo bye, my little wee one, bye.

Why, the Bob White thinks the snowflake is a brother to his song;
       &nbspBye, my little wee one, bye;
And the chimney sings the sweeter when the wind is blowing strong;
       &nbspBye, my little wee one, bye;
The granary's overflowing, full is cellar, crib, and bin,
The wood has paid its tribute and the ax has ceased its din;
The winter may not harm you when you're sheltered safe within;
       &nbspSo bye, my little wee one, bye.