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CLVI

A LULLABY

Sweet baby, sleep! what ails my dear,

What ails my darling thus to cry?

Be still, my child, and lend thine ear,

To hear me sing thy lullaby:

My pretty lamb, forbear to weep;

Be still, my dear; sweet baby, sleep.

Thou blesséd soul, what canst thou fear?

What thing to thee can mischief do?

Thy GOD is now thy Father dear,

His holy Spouse, thy Mother too.

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;

Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

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Sweet baby, sleep, and nothing fear;

For whosoever thee offends

By thy Protector threaten'd are,

And GOD and Angels are thy friends.

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;

Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

When GOD with us was dwelling here,

In little babes He took delight;

Such innocents as thou, my dear,

Are ever precious in His sight.

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;

Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

A little infant once was He;

And strength in weakness then was laid

Upon His Virgin Mother's knee,

That power to thee might be convey'd.

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;

Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

The King of kings, when He was born,

Had not so much for outward ease;

By Him such dressings were not worn,

Nor such-like swaddling-clothes as these.

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;

Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

Within a manger lodged thy LORD,

Where oxen lay, and asses fed:

Warm rooms we do to thee afford,

An easy cradle or a bed.

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;

Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

Thou hast, yet more, to perfect this,

A promise and an earnest got

Of gaining everlasting bliss,

Though thou, my babe, perceiv'st it not;

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;

Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

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