While I'm away, ma chree,
And you are lapped in sleep,
There's One will watch for you and me,
Whose Path is on the deep.
Fear not the rising wind,
Oie-vie, oie-vie, ma chree;
For He will have us in His Mind,
Who stilled the raging sea.
Fear not the dark'ning night,
For in His Hand we lie,
Who steers us through from dark to light
Oie-vie, ma veen, oie-vie!
The day will break ma chree,
And home my heart will fly;
To see you on the sunlit quay—
Till then, ma veen, oie-vie!
Oie-vie!
THE BABY-BOY CAROL.
Jesus was the Baby Boy
Low in a manger laid,
While holy Angels waiting round
His tender limbs arrayed.
No broidered robes or silken lace
Enwrapped this Baby Boy,
But clad in His pure Innocence
He lay, His Mother's joy.
Child Jesus in the garden played
Close by His Mother's arm;
And watching Angels hovered round
To shield Him from all harm.
No gilded toys this Baby had—
No jewels bright and fair;
The little flowerets in the grass
His only playthings were.
Child Jesus learned His daily task,
His simple childish prayer;
The Angels knelt beside Him, while
He asked His Father's care.
No pictures had this Baby Boy,
No books to make Him wise,
He learned of Love and Charity
From His sweet Mother's eyes.
Child Jesus sang Himself to sleep
Low laid upon the ground,
While Angels brought Him heavenly dreams
And kept their watch around.
Oh may such dreams be ours again,
Nor leave us when we rise,
To brighten all the lingering years
With memories of the skies.