Her hair under, over Him spread
His spun-gold coverlet and His bed,
Twined with His little golden head.
She sang and rocked Him to-and-fro
Such songs as little babies know,
With Lullaby Sweet, and Lullalo.
He had no need of moons and suns,
Nor the gold-crested bird-legions,
Singing their lauds and orisons.
The Christmas moon shows a cold beam;