Wee Willie Winkie
Runs through the town,Upstairs and downstairs
In his night gown.
Tapping at the window,
Crying at the lock,
“Are the children all in bed,
For it’s past ten o’clock?”
“Hey Willie Winkie,
Are you coming in?
The cat’s singing purring sounds
To the sleeping hen.
The dog’s spread out on the floor
and doesn’t give a cheep,
But here’s a wakeful little boy
who will not fall asleep.”
Anything but sleep, you rogue,
Glowering like the moon,
Rattling in an iron jug
With an iron spoon,
Rumbling, tumbling round about,
Crowing like a cock,
Shrieking like a I don’t know what,
Waking sleeping folk.
“Hey WIllie Winkie-
The child’s in a creel!
Wriggling off everybody’s kne
Like an eel.
Tugging at the cat’s leg,
Confusing all her thrums-
Hey Willie Winkie,
See, there he comes.”
Weary is the mother
Who has a dusty child,
A small, short little child
That can’t run on his own,
That always has a battle with sleep,
Before he’ll close an eye,
But a kiss from his rosy lips
Gives strength anew to me.
Rattling in an iron jug
With an iron spoon,
Rumbling, tumbling round about,
Crowing like a cock,
Shrieking like a I don’t know what,
Waking sleeping folk.
“Hey WIllie Winkie-
The child’s in a creel!
Wriggling off everybody’s kne
Like an eel.
Tugging at the cat’s leg,
Confusing all her thrums-
Hey Willie Winkie,
See, there he comes.”
Weary is the mother
Who has a dusty child,
A small, short little child
That can’t run on his own,
That always has a battle with sleep,
Before he’ll close an eye,
But a kiss from his rosy lips
Gives strength anew to me.
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