The Mother's Carol

Sing soft and lowYe winds that blowAnd whisper round this quiet shed,Wake not His sleepFor shadows deepAre drawing round His sacred Head.

Sing sweet and highYe birds that fly,But gently trill your tender theme;Lest all too soonYour joyous tuneShould wake Him from some Heavenly dream.

Sing loud and strongYe Angel throngTo Kings and shepherds bear the sign,That peace on earthHas come to birthAnd lies amid the humble kine.

O let Him restIn this poor nest,Where still His Mother softly sings;For well we knowWhat tears will flowEre sorrows crown Him King of Kings.