The top it hummeth a sweet, sweet song br To my dear little boy at play - br Merrily singeth all day long, br As it spinneth and spinneth away. br And my dear little boy br He laugheth with joy br When he heareth the monotone br Of that busy thing br That loveth to sing br The song that is all its own. br br Hold fast the string and wind it tight, br That the song be loud and clear; br Now hurl the top with all your might br Upon the banquette here; br And straight from the string br The joyous thing br Boundeth and spinneth along, br And it whirrs and it chirrs br And it birrs and it purrs br Ever its pretty song.