| CRADLE HYMN |
Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber; Holy angels guard thy bed; Heav'nly 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. |
| --Isaac Watts. |
| CHORUS |
We see Him come, and know Him ours, Who, with His sunshine and His showers, Turns all the patient ground to flowers. The Darling of the world is come, And fit it is we find a room To welcome Him. The nobler part Of all the house here, is the heart, Which we will give Him; and bequeath This holly, and this ivy wreath, To do Him honor, who's our King, And Lord of all this reveling. |
| --Robert Herrick. |
THE ADORATION OF THE CHILDREN
Gherado delle Notte
| "O come, all ye faithful, joyfully triumphant, To Bethlehem hasten now with glad accord, Lo! in a manger lies the King of angels; O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord" |