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Rh She waits for day to appear; Then, silently leaves her bed, To find out what her mother says. Her mother sleeps; she lets her be. When mother finally awakes: "Good morning, Mother!"—"It's you, my daughter! Your eyes open this fine morning, Without saying a word: how sweet she is! Come embrace me, little chicken!" I thus have good reason to write: Who does not love little Mary!

Walk, baby, walk; Give me your hand; One, two, three, Baby has taken a step.

1, 2, 3, One, two, three, Let's go to the woods.