| Hush, my dear! Lie still, and slumber! Holy angels guard thy bed! Heavenly blessings, without number, Gently falling on thy head. | | 112 Sleep, my babe! thy food and raiment, House and home, thy friends provide; All without thy care or payment, All thy wants are well supplied. | | How much better thou’rt attended Than the Son of God could be, When from heaven he descended, And became a child like thee! | | Soft and easy is thy cradle: Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay, When his birthplace was a stable, And his softest bed was hay. | | 113 Blessed Babe! what glorious features,— Spotless fair, divinely bright! Must he dwell with brutal creatures? How could angels bear the sight? | | Was there nothing but a manger Cursed sinners could afford, To receive the heavenly stranger? Did they thus affront the Lord? | | Soft, my child! I did not chide thee, Though my song might sound too hard: ’Tis thy mother sits beside thee, And her arm shall be thy guard. | | 114 Yet to read the shameful story. How the Jews received their King, How they served the Lord of Glory, Makes me angry while I sing. | | See the kinder shepherds round him, Telling wonders from the sky! Where hey sought him, there they found him, With his Virgin–mother by. | | See the lovely Babe a–dressing: Lovely infant, how he smiled! When he wept, his mother’s blessing Sooth’d and hush’d the holy Child. | | 115 Lo, he slumbers in a manger, Where the horned oxen fed!— Peace, my darling, here’s no danger: There’s no ox a–near thy bed. | | ’Twas so save thee, child, from dying, Save my dear from burning flame, Bitter groans and endless crying, That thy blest Redeemer came. | | May’st 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! | | 116 I could give thee thousand kisses! Hoping what I most desire, Not a mother’s fondest wishes Can to greater joys aspire! | |