Hush! my dear, lie still and slumber;|
Holy angels guard thy bed!
Heavenly blessings without number
Gently falling on thy head.
Soft and easy is thy cradle,
Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay,
When his birthplace was a stable
And his softest bed was hay.
See the kindly shepherds round him,|
Telling wonders from the sky!
Where they sought him, there they found him,
With his Virgin Mother by.
Mayst thou live to know and fear him,
Trust and love him all thy days;
Then go dwell for ever near him,
See his face and sing his praise.
I could give thee thousand kisses,|
Hoping what I most desire;
Not a mother's fondest wishes
Can to greater joys aspire.
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