A Birth-Night Song
The Child is rocked on Mary's knee, Cold in the stall this bitter night, And 'Lullalay-loo,' soft singeth she, 'My little Boy and Heaven's Delight!' When singing stars went up the sky The Prince of Peace oped a sweet eye. His Highness now how small He lies! He to be God and Very God! A Jacob's ladder spans the skies Whereof each rung is angel-trod, And all their carols are of Peace, Though the sick world hath little ease. Come in, poor war-worn folk, and rest; Kneel where the sinless creatures kneel; The Babe snugged warm in Mother's breast, He is your Wound-Wort, your All-Heal Balsam for hurts that throb and smart, Small Rose of Love on Mary's heart. Shut close within His hand so small The sick heart's medicine; not a sword. Come in, come in, sad people all, Here is your ancient peace restored! 'Lullalay-loo,' sings Mary mild, Kissing her God, her Lamb, her Child.
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