Love, come and sit upon my knee,
And give me kisses, one, two, three,
And tell me whether you love me.
My baby.
For this I'm sure, that I love you,
And many, many things I do,
And many an hour I sit and sew
For baby.
And then at night I lie awake,
Thinking of things that I can make,
And trouble that I mean to take
For baby.
An when you're good and do not cry,
Nor into angry passions fly,
You can't think how papa and I
Love baby.
But if my little child should grow
To be a naughty child, I know
'Twould grieve mamma to serve her so,
My baby.
And when you saw me pale and thin,
By grieving for my baby's sin,
I think you'd wish that you had been
A better baby.