Note 27 — Chapter III · CHRISTMAS POETRY (II)

“Sleep, oh sleep, dear Baby mine, King Divine; Sleep, my Child, in sleep recline; Lullaby, mine Infant fair, Heaven's King, All glittering, Full of grace as lilies rare. Close thine eyelids, O my treasure, Loved past measure, Of my soul, the Lord, the pleasure; Lullaby, O regal Child, On the hay My joy I lay; Love celestial, meek and mild. Why dost weep, my Babe? alas! Cold winds that pass Vex, or is't the little ass? Lullaby, O Paradise; Of my heart Thou Saviour art; On thy face I press a kiss.”{20}