In little Annie's garden
Grew all sorts of posies;
There were pinks, and mignonette,
And tulips, and roses.
...
The sun is up, the sun is up,
Sing merrily we, the sun is up.
The birds they sing,
Upon the wing,
...
'Butterflies are pretty things,
Prettier than you or I;
See the colors on his wings;
Who would hurt a butterfly?'
...
There was a little boy,
And he had a piece of bread,
And he put his little cap
On his head, head, head.
...
Sleep, my baby, sleep, my boy;
Rest your little weary head;
'Tis your mother rocks her baby
In his little cradle bed.
...
I have a little doll;
I take care of her clothes;
She has soft flaxen hair;
And her name it is Rose.
...
Here, from this little hillock, in days long since gone by,
Glanced over hill and valley the Sachem's eagle eye;
...
I.
'Stop! stop! pretty water,'
Said Mary one day,
To a frolicsome brook
...
Hail, noble captive! king of birds!
What tongue can tell thy misery!
Were thy dumb sorry put in words,
What heart that would not pity thee?
...
Hark! what sweetly solemn sound
Rises on the morning air?
Shedding gentle peace around,
And stilling busy earthly care.
...