The Child is rocked on Mary's knee,

Cold in the stall this bitter night,

And "Lullalay-loo," soft singeth she,

"My little Boy and Heaven's Delight!"

When singing stars went up the sky

The Prince of Peace oped a sweet eye.

His Highness now how small He lies!

He to be God and Very God!

A Jacob's ladder spans the skies

Whereof each rung is angel-trod,

And all their carols are of Peace,

Though the sick world hath little ease.

Come in, poor war-worn folk, and rest;

Kneel where the sinless creatures kneel;

The Babe snugged warm in Mother's breast,

He is your Wound-Wort, your All-Heal

Balsam for hurts that throb and smart,

Small Rose of Love on Mary's heart.

Shut close within His hand so small

The sick heart's medicine; not a sword.

Come in, come in, sad people all,

Here is your ancient peace restored!

"Lullalay-loo," sings Mary mild,

Kissing her God, her Lamb, her Child.