CRADLE SONG For one Born at Christmas
Reading edition
Happy thou, a winter comer, Happier with the snows around thee Than if rosy-fingered summer In thy cradle-nest had crowned thee. Tender is the night, and holy: Little clouds, like cherub faces, Up the moon path, drifting slowly, Vanish in the heavenly spaces. Clothed in splendor, past our earth night, Sphere on sphere is chanting Nowel: Child, thy birthnight keeps a Birthnight Dearest in all Time’s bestowal! He who slept within a manger Guards the pillow thou art pressing— Sent thee hither, little stranger, Blest—to be our Christmas Blessing!