Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE VIRGIN'S LULLABY (SICILIAN), by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE VIRGIN'S LULLABY (SICILIAN), by                    
First Line: The virgin thus to jesus did sing
Last Line: "sleep now that my tears freely may flow."
Subject(s): Jesus Christ - Childhood & Youth;mary. Mother Of Jesus;women - Bible; Virgin Mary


The Virgin thus to Jesus did sing,
When cradled, she soothed Him to rest:
"Sleep, my Son, sleep,
Sleep, Jesu, my Son,
Sleep, Jesu, my Son.

How perfect Thy form!
How sweet is Thy mouth!
How golden Thine hair,
How beauteous Thy face!
My heartbeats are Thine,
Sleep, oh! sleep soon!

Son, still so youthful and fair,
Light of my heart!
Thou seemest too chill.
Come, hug tighter Thy Mother,
Her heart is so warm;
Sleep, my Son, sleep!

When shepherds came seeking
Their gifts to display.
They offered Thee all
With true love and devotion;
Sleep, ever sleep sweetly,
Jesus, my Son!

To flesh Thou dost turn
In pure love for sinners,
Yet man ungrateful and vile
His sins doth ignore,
With mockery bold and perverse,
Ungrateful remains.

But, Son of my love, heed it not!
Graceless man no tears may afford.
Thy Mother's fond pity doth mark
Thy deep, true abasement on earth;
She weeps when others no cause can perceive.
Sleep, calmly sleep!

Son beloved and revered,
Sleep, free from torment or fear;
In days soon to come
Thy sufferings draw nigh;
'Tis Thy lot to endure;
Sleep, Holy One, sleep!

Oh! torments and woes will be mine
Of martyrdom, all but the death,
What day Thy lips do proclaim:
'Mother, mine, my death is at hand.'
In anguish, I murmur a prayer,
Sleep, Innocent, sleep!

Friends thought so true and devoted,
My Son will desert Thee apace,
And grasp sordid gold
As the price of Thy life.
How wilt Thou it bear?
Sleep now, ever sleep!

Son holy, beloved, and true,
Know'st Thou the pains that await Thee
When Pilate's dark door Thou shalt cross?
Scourgings severe and uncounted
My soul foretells.
Sleep, loved One, sleep!

Son, most graceful and dear,
Then, most truly forsaken and lone;
When thorns a rough diadem make
As round Thy grand brow
They cluster and prick as a crown,
Sleep, lone One, sleep!

To Thy cost and my woe
Three nails shall transfix Thee;
Feet and hands so sacred and dear
To a hard cross must be strained,
What heartbreak will then be mine!
But, sleep, now sleep!

Why weepest Thou thus, my sweet Son?
Come, tell Thine own Mother the cause;
Let her hear the loved voice,
With Thy mouth do but speak,
Why dream of tears and deep sobs?
Sleep soundly, Son, sleep!

Let me weep and lament,
Sad and desolate must I behold
Others condemn Thee, my Son;
Powerless, helpless watch Thee expire;
My heart bursts with sorrow and wailing;
My Son dead, ah! dead!

Then, when Thou'rt dead,
They'll pierce Thy white side--
In pain and in grief I behold
The dread lance they employ;
But now, slumber on yet for a while,
Sleep, beloved Son, sleep!

O Son, so tenderly loved,
For Thee beats this heart;
Grant me that under my grief,
Closed be Thine eyelids and still!
This waiting is bitter to bear,
Sleep, Jesus, sleep!

Come, Holy Angels, come!
Sweet symphonies raise;
Sing Jesus to sleep
With your sweet songs!
And thou, Slumber, come, oh come!
Sleep, Jesu! my All! sleep!

Here comes sweet slumber at last
After tears have been shed;
His eyes are so weary.
They're closing apace,
Now my Son sleeps,
My God, yet my Son!

Now I watch Thee asleep,
I see those sweet eyes in repose,
But one dark day I shall watch
Those eyelids in death,
On a cross with agony fall!
Sleep now that my tears freely may flow."





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