 | A Little Book of XXIV Carols |  |
3
OUR LADY'S LULLABY
The frost was white in the Winter night,
The bitter snow came drifting deep
Against her tender breast as white
His mother rocked Him. “Baby sleep!
Lullaby loo! sleep sweet!” sings she
Rocking her Baby on her knee.
The bitter snow came drifting deep
Against her tender breast as white
His mother rocked Him. “Baby sleep!
Lullaby loo! sleep sweet!” sings she
Rocking her Baby on her knee.
The angels float on downy wings
Millions and millions flocking here.
Feathers are fine and gentle things
To bed a new-born Baby dear.
“Why should it be, my Dear,” she said.
“That grass is all I have to spread?”
Millions and millions flocking here.
Feathers are fine and gentle things
To bed a new-born Baby dear.
“Why should it be, my Dear,” she said.
“That grass is all I have to spread?”
He would not take the angels' down
Nor silk nor fur to wrap Him in
Nor woollens fine to put Him on
Nor new-spun linen, clear and thin.
“My Babe's a-cold and naught,” she saith,
“To warm Him save the cattle's breath.
Nor silk nor fur to wrap Him in
Nor woollens fine to put Him on
Nor new-spun linen, clear and thin.
“My Babe's a-cold and naught,” she saith,
“To warm Him save the cattle's breath.
4
“Lullaby loo, my Baby Love.”
She swathes Him in the narrow bands.
Lord of the earth and Heaven above
And of the house not built by hands.
“Lullaby loo, my Babe,” she sighs.
“Whom hard-heart men cast out, despise!”
She swathes Him in the narrow bands.
Lord of the earth and Heaven above
And of the house not built by hands.
“Lullaby loo, my Babe,” she sighs.
“Whom hard-heart men cast out, despise!”
He would be born the poorest child
Was born on earth that wondrous night.
Only the cattle kind and mild
Beheld His starry Birth and bright.
“Lullaby” sings the mother still
“Sleep sweet, dear Child and fear no ill.”
Was born on earth that wondrous night.
Only the cattle kind and mild
Beheld His starry Birth and bright.
“Lullaby” sings the mother still
“Sleep sweet, dear Child and fear no ill.”
The angels join the lullaby
The stars sing lullaby so low.
And all the Heaven 's a wakeful eye
Watching an infant's sleep below.
“Lullaby,” sings she, “Baby small,
Who art my God, my King, my All.”
The stars sing lullaby so low.
And all the Heaven 's a wakeful eye
Watching an infant's sleep below.
“Lullaby,” sings she, “Baby small,
Who art my God, my King, my All.”
| A Little Book of XXIV Carols | |