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Christmas Waits In Boston
I. I always give myself a Christmas present. And o...

Christmas In The Barn
F. ARNSTEIN ONLY two more days and Christmas would...

Hymn For Christmas
FELICIA HEMANS Oh! lovely voices of the sky ...

Little Roger's Night In The Church
SUSAN COOLIDGE The boys and girls had fastened the l...

Church Decking At Christmas
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Would that our scrupulous...

Why The Chimes Rang
RAYMOND MC ALDEN THERE was once in a faraway count...

Neighbors Of The Christ Night
NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH Deep in the shelter of ...





Cradle Hymn






ISAAC WATTS

Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber;
Holy angels guard thy bed;
Heavenly blessings without number
Gently falling on thy head.

Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment,
House and home, thy friends provide;
All without thy care, or payment,
All thy wants are well supplied.

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 kindly shepherds round him,
Telling wonders from the sky!
When they sought Him, there they found Him,
With his Virgin-Mother by.

See the lovely babe a-dressing;
Lovely infant, how He smiled!
When He wept, the mother's blessing
Soothed and hushed the holy child.

Lo, He slumbers in His manger,
Where the honest oxen fed;
--Peace, my darling! here's no danger!
Here's no ox a-near thy bed!

Mayst thou live to know and fear Him,
Trust and love Him all thy days;
Then go dwell forever near Him,
See His face, and sing His praise!

I could give thee thousand kisses,
Hoping what I most desire;
Not a mother's fondest wishes
Can to greater joys aspire.





Next: An Ode On The Birth Of Our Saviour

Previous: Neighbors Of The Christ Night



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