Hush, my babe, lie still and slumber, Holy angels guard thy bed,
Heavenly blessings without num-ber gently stealing on thy head.
Verse: 2
How much better art thou attended than the son of God could be
When from Heaven He descended, and became a child like thee.
Verse: 3
Soft and easy is thy cradle Coarse and hard the Savior lay,
When His birth-place was a stable, and His softest bed was hay.
