Beyond the tomb.
Sleep, little one!
I’ll cradle thee
Upon my breast.
Thou art to be
A glorious saint
Before the throne;
To sing and praise
Our Lord, our own.
I know it now;
Beyond the tomb.
Sleep, little one!
I’ll cradle thee
Upon my breast.
Thou art to be
A glorious saint
Before the throne;
To sing and praise
Our Lord, our own.
I know it now;