A CRADLE HYMN

Hush! my dear, lie still and slumber, Holy angels guard thy bed! Heavenly blessings without number Gently falling on thy head. 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. See the kinder shepherds round Him, Telling wonders from the sky! Where they sought Him, there they found Him, With His Virgin Mother by. See the lovely babe adressing; Lovely infant, how He smiled! When He wept, the Mother’s blessing Soothed and hush’d the holy child. Lo, He slumbers in His manger, Where the hornèd oxen fed: Peace, my darling; here’s no danger, Here’s no ox anear thy bed.