Christ is the shepherd of His sheep
And lambs like you to His heart he folds,
And safely holds, all safely holds.
Till the dark night dies in the arms of day,
When He kisses my lamb awake to play.
Sleep! sleep! sleep! my baby, sleep.
’Neath a Belgian sky sang this lullaby.
But why; why do the children cry,
As the husband true bids a brave good-by?
O why do the children and women weep