Sleep, little Dove, the sky's dark above, The Virgin sang to her infant son; My watch I'm keeping while Thou art sleeping; Swiftly to heaven Thy dreams will run. Sing, holy angels, your sweet lullabies, Smiling and dreaming my little one lies. This humble stable is charitable, Off'ring a nest of which I've nead; Chill night's a danger, but in the manger All in the hay no cold He'll heed. Sing, holy angels, your sweet lullabies, Smiling and dreaming my little one lies. Darker 'tis growing, and the wind blowing, Beats on the roof and bends each tree; Naught need'st Thou fear, O Jesus, my Dear, For, see, ox and ass are both near Thee. Sing, holy angels, your sweet lullabies, Smiling and dreaming my little one lies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GEORGE MOORE by MARIANNE MOORE THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS BIRTHDAY OF DANIEL WEBSTER by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES TO AMARANTHA, THAT SHE WOULD DISHEVEL HER HAIR by RICHARD LOVELACE LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY FOR A DEAD LADY by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |