LULLABY OF THE RAIN-DROPS

’Tis the patter of the rain-drops,Baby dear,Falling lightly on the home-roof,That we hear.Patter, patter, low and sweet,Like the touch of velvet feetComing near.’Tis the patter of the rain-dropsOn the grass,Makes it grow so green and shiningAs they pass.And each leaf upon the treesWaves, like jewels in the breeze,Liquid glass.’Tis the patter of the rain-dropsOn the brook,Makes it dimple, dimple, dimple,As we look:Saying as they run away,“We write records every dayIn Love’s Book.”’Tis the cradle song of summerThat we hear,In the patter of the rain-drops,Coming near.Though the dark skies seem to frownEvery drop brings blessings down,Baby dear.

’Tis the patter of the rain-drops,Baby dear,Falling lightly on the home-roof,That we hear.Patter, patter, low and sweet,Like the touch of velvet feetComing near.’Tis the patter of the rain-dropsOn the grass,Makes it grow so green and shiningAs they pass.And each leaf upon the treesWaves, like jewels in the breeze,Liquid glass.’Tis the patter of the rain-dropsOn the brook,Makes it dimple, dimple, dimple,As we look:Saying as they run away,“We write records every dayIn Love’s Book.”’Tis the cradle song of summerThat we hear,In the patter of the rain-drops,Coming near.Though the dark skies seem to frownEvery drop brings blessings down,Baby dear.

’Tis the patter of the rain-drops,Baby dear,Falling lightly on the home-roof,That we hear.Patter, patter, low and sweet,Like the touch of velvet feetComing near.

’Tis the patter of the rain-drops,

Baby dear,

Falling lightly on the home-roof,

That we hear.

Patter, patter, low and sweet,

Like the touch of velvet feet

Coming near.

’Tis the patter of the rain-dropsOn the grass,Makes it grow so green and shiningAs they pass.And each leaf upon the treesWaves, like jewels in the breeze,Liquid glass.

’Tis the patter of the rain-drops

On the grass,

Makes it grow so green and shining

As they pass.

And each leaf upon the trees

Waves, like jewels in the breeze,

Liquid glass.

’Tis the patter of the rain-dropsOn the brook,Makes it dimple, dimple, dimple,As we look:Saying as they run away,“We write records every dayIn Love’s Book.”

’Tis the patter of the rain-drops

On the brook,

Makes it dimple, dimple, dimple,

As we look:

Saying as they run away,

“We write records every day

In Love’s Book.”

’Tis the cradle song of summerThat we hear,In the patter of the rain-drops,Coming near.Though the dark skies seem to frownEvery drop brings blessings down,Baby dear.

’Tis the cradle song of summer

That we hear,

In the patter of the rain-drops,

Coming near.

Though the dark skies seem to frown

Every drop brings blessings down,

Baby dear.

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