The Weeping Babe

 She kneels by the cradle 
Where Jesus doth lie; 
Singing, Lullaby, my Baby! 
But why dost Thou cry? 

The babes of the village 
Smile sweetly in sleep; 
And lullaby, my Baby, 
That ever dost weep! 

I've wrapped Thee in linen, 
The gift of the Kings; 
And wool, soft and fleecy, 
The kind Shepherd brings. 

Now smile, little Jesus, 
Whom naught can defile; 
All gifts will I give Thee 
An thou wilt but smile. 

But it's lullaby, my Baby! 
And mournful am I, 
Thou cherished little Jesus, 
That still Thou wilt cry.

Form: Ballad

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