|THE NIPPER'S LULLABY|
He's run his little legs off and at last he's gone to sleep
Lor what a puffick mint 'o love lies in that little 'eap
He's a bay to be prahd on weighin' not fur off a stone
He's worth his weight in thickuns and 'e's all our wery own.
Refrain: Sleep lightly, dream brightly
Rest until the daylight comes agen
Wake up in the mornin' when the day is dawnin'
But sleep your level best till then.
Jes see 'um of a mornin' as 'e sets up in 'is bed
And sez such things it's wonderful 'ow they all come into 'is 'ead
And he sucks his blessed bottle till it's drier than a bone
Like 'is dad, 'e likes 'is bottle - and he's all our wery own.
And the things that nipper swallers well, you really wouldn't think
If there's a thing he's nuttier on than anything it's ink
Drinks a glass full at a settin' sich a thing was never known
And 'e dines off nails and matches, and he's all our wery own.
He's got a nasty temper, 'like 'is dad' 'is mammy sez
And wotever he's a likin' for that little warmint 'as
He's the ortiest of ortocrats wot sits upon a throne
For 'e does just what 'e bloomin' likes and he's all our wery own
He's got his failin's, which they're spreadin' every day
He's a terror, and no error, when 'e doesn't 'ave 'is way
But there ain't a nipper like 'im, sich a kid was never grown
He's the champion of the lightweights an' he's all our wery own.
It's 'is birthday in the mornin', 'e'll be just a twelve month old
So tonight I blewed some ooftish, the old gal won't dare to scold
'Cos I spent it on a present for his artful little nibs
True, it only cost a penny, but it means more than the dibs.
|Sung by Albert Chevalier|
|Words by Mel B. Spurr - Music by Bond Andrews - 1893|