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Isaac Watts - Cradle Hymn
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  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.
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