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Poem	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.
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