I’ll tell you a story, Roy,

If you will be very still,

About a beautiful baby boy,

Whom bad men tried to kill, 

And his mamma hid him by day and night, 

Out of their wicked, cruel sight.

But her heart was filled with fear,

As she heard the people say, 

"That Hebrew woman over there 

Hath hidden her babe away;" 

And another plan she sought to try, 

For how could she see her darling die?

She secretly made for him

A cradle, pretty and light, 

All woven with rushes, long and slim,

And she made it watertight 

Then quick to the river's edge she flew, 

And laid him down where the wild flags grew.

For she knew that every day 

A princess, tall and grand, 

With her maidens fair, would come that way;

And the rest was in God's hand 

If weal or woe, she could not tell, 

And she bade his sister guard him well. 

So when the maidens fair

With the lovely lady came, 

The little boat lay safely there,

Watched by Miriam.

And the princess said, "What is that I see? 

Go fetch it, I pray thee unto me."

Now when from his tiny bed

To take him the maiden tried 

'Twas a Hebrew child, they, whispering, said.

And the little baby cried. 

Then the princess lovingly on him smiled, 

And made him her own adopted child, 

By God's own finger led.