When my daughter was little
I used to take her out to show the night
First she keeps her lip tight
Then begins to ask questions so bright.
“Who hung the Moon there in the Sky?”
I used to say after thinking a while
“Why is his lamp blackend, a slight?”
because of the lampblack I used to say
though they were big lies,
“Where all these flying lights come from?”
“From the Stars that glimmer in blithe “.
“Who gave me to you?”
“God , he created you with his all might”
When she grew up and had a baby nice
She streached out it to me with an impish smile,
“This is the baby ,god created with all his might ,
the god just now went out, to register the birth of his child .