. Ursula at home . etcousin Flossie to sleep, and that you still sing for us some-times, for we love it just as much as we ever did. :»(jO Ursula at Home. THE MAMMAS CRADLE HYMN. Hush my dear, lie still and slumber, Holy Angels guard thy bed ;Heavenly blessings without number Gently falling on thy head. Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment,House and home thy friends provide And without thy care and payment,All thy wants are well supplied. How much better art thou attended Than the Son of God could from Heaven he descended. And became a child like thee. >oft and easy is thy cradle, C
. Ursula at home . etcousin Flossie to sleep, and that you still sing for us some-times, for we love it just as much as we ever did. :»(jO Ursula at Home. THE MAMMAS CRADLE HYMN. Hush my dear, lie still and slumber, Holy Angels guard thy bed ;Heavenly blessings without number Gently falling on thy head. Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment,House and home thy friends provide And without thy care and payment,All thy wants are well supplied. How much better art thou attended Than the Son of God could from Heaven he descended. And became a child like thee. >oft and easy is thy cradle, Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay, When his birth-place was a stableAnd his softest bed was hay. :See the kinder Shepherds round him Telling wonders from the sky,When they sought him, there they found him. With his virgin mother by. See the lovely babe a dressing, Lovely infant how he smiled ;When he wept the mothers blessing Soothed and hushed the holy child. JLo ! he slumbers in a manger,Where the horned oxen fed ;. FLORENCE MARGARET AND ISABEL GRIFFITH. ;f( ,:;ARY TILDEN ASTOR, LENOX FOUNDATIONS The Dream. 303 Peace, my darling ; heres no danger,Theres no oxen near thy bed. Twas to save thee, child, from dying,. Save iny dear from burning flameBitter groans and endless crying, That my blessed Redeemer came. Blessed Babe ! What glorious features, Spotless fair, divinely bright ;Must lie dwell with brutal creatures ; How could angels bear the sight. Was there nothing but a manger, Wicked sinners could afford,To receive the heavenly stranger ; Did they not affront their Lord. Soft ! my child I did not chide thee, Though my song might sound too hard ; Tis thy mother sits beside thee,And her arms shall be thy guard. Yet to read the shameful story, How the Jews abused their King ;How they served the Lord of Glory, Makes me angry while I sing. Mayst thou live to know and fear him. Trust and love him all thy clays ;Then go, dwell forever near him, See his face, and sing his praise. Ur
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