See the lovely babe a-dressing; Lovely infant, how He smiled! When He wept, the mother's blessing Soothed and hushed the holy child.
Lo, He slumbers in His manger, Where the honest oxen fed; --Peace, my darling! here's no danger! Here's no ox a-near thy bed!
Mayst thou live to know and fear Him, Trust and love Him all thy days; Then go dwell forever near Him, See His face, and sing His praise!
I could give thee thousand kisses, Hoping what I most desire; Not a mother's fondest wishes Can to greater joys aspire.
I like little Pussy, Her coat is so warm; And if I don't hurt her She'll do me no harm. So I'll not pull her tail, Nor drive her away, But Pussy and I Very gently will play; She shall sit by my side, And I'll give her some food; And she'll love me because I am gentle and good.
I'll pat little Pussy, And then she will purr, And thus show her thanks For my kindness to her; I'll not pinch her ears, Nor tread on her paw, Lest I should provoke her To use her sharp claw; I never will vex her, Nor make her displeased, For Pussy can't bear To be worried or teased.
Baby mustn't frown, When she tumbles down; If the wind should change--Ah me, What a face her face would be!
Rub away the dirt, Say she wasn't hurt; What a world 'twould be--O my, If all who fell began to cry!
Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree, Up went pussy-cat, and down went he; Down came pussy-cat, and away Robin ran; Said little Robin Redbreast, "Catch me if you can."
Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a wall, Pussy-cat jumped after him, and almost got a fall; Little Robin chirped and sang, and what did pussy say? Pussy-cat said naught but "Mew," and Robin flew away.
Sleep, sleep, my treasure, The long day's pleasure Has tired the birds, to their nests they creep; The garden still is Alight with lilies, But all the daisies are fast asleep.
Sleep, sleep, my darling, Dawn wakes the starling, The sparrow stirs when he sees day break; But all the meadow Is wrapped in shadow, And you must sleep till the daisies wake!
Oh, hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight, Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright; The woods and the glens from the tower which we see, They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee.
Oh, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, It calls but the warders that guard thy repose; Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red, Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.