Soft rain kissing the fallen leaves Night wind harmonizing with whispering trees Of pretty sounds I've heard the sweetest I think, maybe Is when she sings to the baby I look around at riches by which some men measure But all their wealth, I see, can never match my treasures The stillness of the dawn by a mountain stream A bird and his mate dancing through the night on pale moon beams Of pretty things I've seen the sweetest I think, maybe Is when she's holding the baby I look around at riches by which some men measure But all their wealth, I see, can never match my treasures Of fortunes I have seen, the riches I think, maybe Of her sweet love and the baby